Author: admin

Well it all started on Dec 10 2022. Logged on to a website and realized my favorite guy on the website was logged in. I decided to send him a message and he responded.

Me: “I fantasize about our paths crossing some day or night. To be bred by you.” (I sent him a photo)

Him: “Dude thanks for submit… damn that arse looks delicious.”

Me: “See me laying there and vulnerable for you.”

Him: “An intruder couldn’t ask for more.”

Me: “What would it take to be my intruder? “I would love to be woken up with you raping me. You wearing a balaclava and your sent of a cigar, I would then, know it is you.”

Him: “It’s hard to call it rape when that arse is begging for it. :😀Besides I’d eat that arse out nice and properly first. Spread those checks and bury my cigar-soaked tongue into that puckering hole.”

Me: “You can post my photo that I submitted to you then I will know you really want my ass.”

Him: “Between puffs I’d spit in there to lube it up nice.”

Me: “Woof, you put your tongue in my ass, you would make me go crazy.”

Him: “You’ll be begging to be fucked by the time I am done. I want your man pussy fucking screaming for my cock.”

Me: “The more you tease my ass, the more I want it.”

Everytime I chat with him, I fantasize about what he tells me as he seems to have this power over me. I don’t think he knows how much I want to cross paths with him. I am writing this on here so hopefully he reads it and knows what I am thinking and wanting. All he has to do now is ask me for my address and email so he can some night, take what could be his. Our chat then continues….

Me: “How far away are you if I was staying at a downtown Chicago hotel?”

Him: “Close… but be hard to not get my husband suspicious. Not proximity that’s the issue I’m afraid.”

Me: “Find you in the alley of the hotel smoking your cigar and I would leave an envelope at the front desk for you with my room key inside it.”

Him: “You know that is my fantasy (as you see from my story) ;😜… although fucking in alley while smoking the cigar would be more exciting.”

Me: “Then I would make sure I am wearing my jeans with the ripped hole in the ass for you as I walk pass you smoking your cigar in the alley.”

Him: “I’d walk up behind you and you’d slow down. I’d catch up and I’d lean in… crotch to arse, head over shoulder with cigar dangling and ask what you are doing in this dark alley. You’d probably hesitate, and in that time I’d reach around and grab your crotch. I’d feel that you were getting excited. I lead you over to wall near dumpster. Push your face into the wall and then probe your hole in your jeans with my fingers.”

Me: “And I would respond by grinding my hole in the ass into your crotch to get you hard and tell you I want you inside me as you suck on your cigar. Then I ask you, what are you doing in the alley besides smoking your cigar?”

Him: “I would need no other cues, with one hand I hold your face to the wall and pull out my engorged cock. I’d then align it with your man pussy and then ram it in hard. I’d stop, cover your mouth while you get use to me inside you.”

Me: “I would try and turn my head so I can taste your lips scented by your cigar.”

Him: “Then I’d fuck you so hard you’d wanna scream but can’t. Too scared to get attention, I’d pound your arse over and over again. Cigar between lips, hands on waist, in and out. You’d be panting, begging me to keep going and stop at the same time.”

Me: “All I would be hoping for is your load squirting inside me so I can take a part of you home with me. If you want to nibble on my neck at some point to mark me so I see your lips on my neck and feel you in my ass.”

Him: “Oh I’d fucking shoot the largest load up you’re arse. Then I’d zip up and casually walk away. You’d clench your arse and run back to the hotel. There you’d let my seed drip out of your arse, clean it up and taste it while you masturbated. Holding onto any sense of reality that this was not just a dream 😉. Hey dude. That was great as always. Love fantasy role play chats. (it made me cum) unfortunately have to go. Hit me up again when both online.”

Me: “I would try and keep your seed in me as long as I could. You made me cum too. Thanks for the hot chat. Love it”

Oh course, I continue to think about him and the scent of a cigar on his breath. Hoping some night he will have planted his seed inside me. I want him!!!

First let me say that as far as the therapeutic objective the massage was a huge success and was intended to be nothing more; but the hot little masseur who was recommended to us exceeded that by far.

It was a week since the pain in my neck and shoulder had started.  Nothing major just one of those “should I really have thought I could do that myself” aftermaths that a middle-aged guy experiences.  I’m over fifty and in great shape; but I’ll repeat that I’m over fifty.  My body has some limits it sometimes makes known to me.

I also have a husband in his thirties in even better shape than I am and with his advantage of (relative) youth; so I have no excuse for digging a trench in our lawn over sixty feet long and then being on my knees wrestling a not flexible enough line and restoring the lawn all by myself.  Even my similarly-aged neighbor across the street recognized the precarious nature of my position and offered help in the form of  his eighteen-year-old son; but no I just went it alone.

Now I know some of you read that and thought the porn plot was the gay daddy on his knees for hours; or the hot neighbor.  Or even the hot teen son.  Or all of the above.  But I assure you that the moaning that Kent walked in on when he found me at our outdoor shower washing a thick layer of dirt off me was not the good kind of pain.

My husband Kent had bern working a deadline and had his attentions on his laptop in his office for six hours straight while I tortured myself.  By the time he found me attempting to clean-up every move I made that involved my right arm, shoulders, neck, or moving my head at all was an agony of twinges and pangs.

Kent shed his own clothes there in the privacy of our lanai and came behind me in the foot-wide rainwater downpour and took over lathering and rubbing the grime off me.  Those moans that came after were first moans of relief; then when he nudged my hole with his huge stiff dick they were moans of need followed by a welcome different pain and ultimately more pleasure than pain as I blew a huge wad all over the teak back splash while he pumped me full of another of his loads of DNA.

“You dug the water line to the new garden didn’t you?” he asked as he kissed my neck while he pulled out of me.  What a buzz-kill!

“You were busy; I wasn’t.  I thought Sasha would see me digging and join in and help; but of course he only digs when we don’t want him too.”  I laughed and then winced; mostly because of my neck and shoulder but Kent had taken-out some frustration on my ass and really wrecked my hole too.

Kent put one of his big hands on my ass and one on my shoulder and rubbed each.  “Where do you need it?”

Honestly his hand on my sore ass was aggravating my ravaged chute; but no way I’d ever admit that.  “You know I always need you down there.  But my shoulder and neck are really wrecked in the not-good way.”

The warm water from the ninety degree day had passed and we were into the cool water of the deep-underground well and hadn’t turned-on the hot water.  Kent readjusted the controls and despite the sweat of the fuck the near-scalding sun-heated water felt amazing.  Almost as amazing as Kent’s hands gently rubbing my neck and shoulders.

Later in the afternoon our doctor “third-guy” was home and had me move and felt around until he pronounced nothing serious.  Easy for him to say.  “But tomorrow will be a lot worse; and it’ll be important for you to keep those muscles warm and stretched or it’ll just extend the healing time.”

We all spent time in the hot tub that night which felt great and terrible at the same time; great for the hot water and the enjoyment of being naked with the two men in my life and knowing what would come later but also terrible because to get my tall frame in a position with the water up to my chin wasn’t comfortable.

They went easy on me afterward; Kent railed Jef while Jef blew me.  Then Jef worked me hard again sitting on my cock and rode me and choked his way through being face-fucked by Kent’s monster cock.  I forgot about the dull ache in my neck and shoulder except for when the thrusts caused Jef to jolt when he was sucking or riding my cock; and the pleasures far exceeded those pains.

But Jef’s prediction was painfully accurate; I could barely move in the morning.  Jef and Kent were up early as usual; Kent to give some time to Sasha outdoors and Jef to get to the hospital for another punishing shift.  When he kissed me goodbye he reminded me to keep my muscles warm and stretched and suggested I call my physical therapist.

Turned out that my PT was away in Tampa until the following day.  He offered to call the office he owned and ran to make sure one of his people worked me into their always packed schedule but I told him to enjoy his away time and I could do that for myself.  The office wouldn’t be open for another hour.

Then a buddy of ours texted that Kent had told him about my ailment.  After Josh finished teasing the “old man” about “over-energetic exertions” with my “boy-toy husband” he told me he had “just the guy” and texted me the number for a masseur he had used often.  Perhaps that should have been my warning; Josh is a wild boy and the smart money should have been on non-therapeutic uses for the masseur.  I’ll plead the pain as impairing my reasoning.

The text exchange was brief.  Knox Austin would accommodate me on Josh’s recommendation; Josh was a “very loyal client” he told me.  We loved Josh but that should have been the alert again; Josh’s loyalties were ninety-seven percent to his own hedonistic pleasures.  When I asked for his address he sent it but suggested he come to me to make it more comfortable.  Another alert went unnoticed.

I told Kent about the appointment when he came in to offer me breakfast in bed.  I opted for a brotein breakfast and reminded him that Jef may have learned to take a face-fucking from my husband but I am the master monster cock wrangler in this house.  I didn’t care that my neck and shoulder were screaming; I went to town on him in the best position I could find and had a very healthy breakfast helping indeed.

Kent reciprocated by taking me into our wet room and lathering me while I stood and minimized movements.  He was attentive but not insistent when his prolonged lather-laden ministrations to my limp dick, heavy balls, and wanting hole didn’t perk “Big Al” up.  And then while he was drying me the message came from the gate to our watches that Knox Austin was on his way to our house.

Kent helped me dress in a t-shirt and shorts and did the same in time for Ring to alert us of the car in the drive.  Kent, Sasha, and I met the masseur at the door.  NOT what I was expecting.

First things I noticed were a) Knox was a much littler guy than we are and b) he wasn’t toting a massage table. I’m just about six feet and my husband is almost three inches taller than I am;  Knox was at least a half-foot shorter than I am.

Second observation was that he was built exceptionally tight and very muscular; his stature was small and he was very lean but heavily muscled like a short-stop as opposed to a catcher or out-fielder. Either way baseball player builds are my weakness; my husband has a pitcher’s powerful upper body build and a wrestler’s strong legs.

Knox looked to be about zero percent body-fat, and his muscles were from feet (in sandals) to neck.  All of this was easily visible in short workout trunks and a tight tank top.  He was also deadly handsome in a college varsity MVP sort of way; his smile could easily grace magazine covers.

Our visitor was enthralled with Sasha who intercepted him in the front hall with us.  His cursory greeting to us as he stepped in and kicked off his sandals was a poor second to the attention he lavished on our exuberant Siberian Husky.  Knox was on the floor with him and shared a few minutes of pets, cuddles, compliments, and fur-baby talk while we watched and waited; until Kent interrupted the love-fest by saying two things I had been thinking.

“Is Knox your first or last name?  Just curious with two names that could be first names; and surely you get asked this all the time.”

“It’s my first name sir,” he said respectfully.    “And yes; I am asked to clarify that fairly often sir.”

I snorted.  Kent was older than the masseur but no way was he a “sir” presence; not yet anyway.

“It’s Kent,” he said simply.

“Sorry sir.  I mean … Kent.”

“And I see you haven’t brought a table,” Kent continued.

“I have one in my car but usually for outcalls I use the client’s bed.  It’s usually more … it’s easier that way.”

Those alerts did not go unnoticed; for Kent or for me.

“I see,” Kent said and turned to me with a grin.  “I suppose I’ll leave you to it then,” he said with an undisguised wicked pleasure.  He gave me a surprise ravishing kiss and headed toward his office.  Looking back at Knox he said, “Take good care of my husband,” and walked off.

I was having second thoughts; and third and maybe fourth.  Then Knox moved to just in front of me and put both of his strong hands gently up on my lower neck and shoulders.  “Is it both sides or one?”

His hands simply rested on me; almost a caress or maybe it was a caress.  His hands were very hot and immediately soothing.  He was a small man and more than half a foot shorter than I so he was looking up at me with intense but compassionate light brown eyes.

“The right more than the left; but both depending on how I move.”

Then an indisputable caress on my right side.  The heat from his small hand intensified beyond my expectation and filled me with the possibility of relief.  I moaned before I realized it.

“Let’s get you comfortable and get to work,” he suggested with that continued gaze and the very gentle heat-filled caresses.

“Okay,” was all I could say.

Knox smiled and slowly removed his hands; he let each trail down over my pecs and used his thumbs to circle my nipples a few times before he removed his hands from me.  He turned and retrieved his back-pack from where he’d dropped it during his tete-a-tete with Sasha.

Still smiling up at me he asked, “Lead the way?”

“Oh uh sure,” I stammered out.

I went to our rooms and through to our big king-sized bed; Knox followed until we were by the bed and then put his pack on a chair and bent to open it.  His little ass was incredible in his work-out shorts; and as short as they were I could see his jock-strap straps on each cheek when he bent over.  My pain wasn’t enough to over-power my dick’s reaction.

NO!  Stop that! I chastised myself.  But my plumping dick was having none of it.  CRAP! I thought to myself.

I stood lamely watching Knox take a couple of towels and more jars and bottles out of his pack and put them on Kent’s bed-side chest on one the towels he laid-out carefully.  I then watched him pull out what looked like a folded white sheet and with what appeared to be choreographed moves he shook it open and covered most of the bed.  He moved quickly around the three sides and around me and had the sheet smoothed and straightened and had the many pillows we use all off and stacked on the other of the chairs.

I hadn’t moved from where I’d stopped when I led him into our bedroom.  Knox smiled and said, “Time for me to take away all your pain, stress, and cares.”  He walked toward the chair and in a very quick move he pulled down and stepped out of his workout trunks and jock-strap and then pulled his shirt over his head just as quickly.

OH FUCK!  As the full view of that perfect jock butt materialized my dick roared to full attention.  His rippling back muscles, big bouncing shoulders, and his guns sealed my fate; I uselessly put my hands in front of my crotch which caused me to wince with the pain in my neck that shot through my right shoulder and upper arm.

Knox folded his shorts and shirt neatly and turned in time to see me wince; he quickly glanced to my attempt at modesty and smiled momentarily.  Then he advanced on me.

Knox’s body was exquisite in every way except two: he was hairless and his dick and balls were tiny.  He clearly shaved his crotch; his skin appeared naturally smooth elsewhere but there it was clearly shaved.  And say what you will about my next observation: his dick was so small as to he distracting and his balls likewise.  Boyish.  His dick being uncut had the effect of making it appear all the more diminutive; the size of my pinky at best.  And having the thickly developed muscular thighs of a gymnast framing the area accentuated the boyishness of his attribute all the more.

Having reached me he told me to, “Relax and let me help you off with this.”  He’d taken hold of my t-shirt and was gently lifting my arm and pulling the shirt to free first my left then my right arm.  My raging dick was tenting my shorts obscenely but was then unobscured.  Knox gently pulled the shirt up my torso careful to apply gentle pressure to keep my arms in place; he stood on his tip-toes and reached up and had my shirt freed without any significant twinges which I appreciated.

He folded the shirt and placed it on the bench at the foot of the bed.  Then he turned and without so much as a warning pulled down my shorts, dodged my dick when it swung free, and had me stepping naked out of them.  He folded my shorts and placed them with my shirt and turned to me.

Knox hadn’t commented or given any sign of reaction to the vast scar down my torso from my three open-heart surgeries two years ago; my “racing stripes” as I call the wide swath of discolored scar tissue.  Nor had he done anything more than dodged my missile of manhood when it snapped free of my shorts and almost decked him.  But now he turned and placed one hand flat on my scar and smoothed his way down to my abs where it fades.  Then he let his hand continue to my rock-hard dick, encircled the base barely with his small hand, and stroked it once from root to tip while caressing my big hairy balls with his other.

I stood stock still feeling very naughty.  I had started the day seeking a physical therapist for a treatment; here I was with an escort!  Knox snapped me out of my introspection.

“You’ve been through it.  And you’re a stud besides.  I can see why your husband is such a happy man.”  He stopped there looking up at me so close I could feel his breath on my pecs.  Then when the tension was about to make me blurt something (ANYTHING!) he said, “Let’s see if I can take your pain and tension away.”

“I … I hope I can release it.  I MEAN … I hope I can let the pain go!”

I laughed and winced and flinched from that which caused me to pull my balls away from Knox who hadn’t let them go.  That caused me to suck in a breath before he released his hold on my jewels.

“Maybe we should get to the massage Al,” he suggested and motioned to the bed.

“How do you want me?” I asked.

The masseur was suddenly all business despite being naked and having just felt me up.  “Lay on your back sideways across the bed with your head at the edge on that side.”  He motioned to the chair with his pack; he’d moved toward it and was putting the pack and his folded trunks and tank on the floor.  “I’m going to pull this chair closer and sit and begin to work your neck that way so you can relax completely.”

I should have cared that my hard dick was jutting into the air when I got on my back; a missile launch came to mind.  But honestly laying down across the bed was a relief to my pain and I sighed when I was situated.  I’d seen the masseur carefully arranging another towel on the chair.

“Just relax and don’t move with me.  I will manage with my own strength and you don’t use a muscle.”

I did make an effort to relax my body; and didn’t so much as turn my head when I heard a cap pop on one bottle and two jar lids being unscrewed.  Then I felt his hands touch the sides of my neck with cool slick lotion that smelled of peppermint.  I immediately thought his touch was far too gentle … until he moved his hands on down under my shoulders and began to apply pressure and to massage my neck from base to my scalp.

“That’s it.  Just let it happen,” he said in a softer voice.

He didn’t need to tell me.  The slight coolness of the lotion and the perfect pressure and motion of his hands had me completely submitting.  I began to drift; it was so relaxing to have the pain lessen.

I vaguely heard Knox move a jar on the chest as he’d briefly reduced his contact with me to one very active and efficient hand; then I felt warmth when the other hand rejoined the first.  I couldn’t help but to moan … almost sexually because the warmth offsetting the coolness was so dramatically soothing.

Knox said nothing and continued with the strokes under and on the sides of my neck for countless minutes.  Then I noticed that somewhere along the way he’d broadened his path to begin including my shoulders; first the cool lotion then the warm cream.  When the cream started on my shoulders he integrated my neck again and worked me from traps to neck and back over and over.

I tangibly felt the pain leaving; and the relaxation progress to groggy bliss.  I was only vaguely aware when he worked all the way down one arm and hand and then back all the way to my neck and spent a long time doing my entire right shoulder.  Then he did my left side the same way and I floated somewhere in blissful unawareness of everything but the relief and enjoyment of his touch.

When the masseur stood and began working the front of my shoulders and upper pecs I sighed a long moaning exhale    When he reached my nipples and used the cool peppermint I felt bolts of electricity in my balls and still-soaring hard-on.  When time came for the warm cream on my nipples I felt my balls simmering and working to a slow boil after the earlier jolts.

I opened my eyes briefly when Knox was beginning to work my abs and his sac was brushing over my forehead and down past my nose.  I had already felt his sweat drip from his face and forehead onto my skin; I’d imagined it sizzling on my scar and felt it drip through my dense chest hair.  His boyish balls and tiny dick flopped and dragged over me … pleasingly.  When I inhaled he smelled like a jock who’d started out squeaky-clean but was working up to a boldly masculine aroma of his sweaty exertion.

There was a constant flow of pre-cum down my shaft; I was certain there was a puddle in my bushy pubes.  And as I thought about that Knox reached my lower abs with his arms outstretched and his body over mine and his dick and balls passed over my lips.  I’m only human … and male; I opened my mouth and took all of his maleness in my mouth easily.

“Mmmmmmmmm,” he hummed but changed nothing of his pattern of long body strokes, occasional replenishment of cool and warm unctions, and pressures.

I felt him harden in my mouth; he was not much of a grower.  I had free range to tongue his mini-boner and balls all together; it seemed only fair to have many parts of him in play as his hands roamed my entire upper body front and the back of my neck and shoulders.

I wondered if Knox’s nipples were sensitive and if they’d make his hard-on jerk like him rubbing and tweaking mine did my raging fuck-bat.  I would have to break the lay-back-and-don’t-move rule to find out because his motions went from outstretched over me to essentially standing straight and back again.

Knox got to my groin and spent a vast seemingly eternal period massaging me there.  Around my dick, in my pubes, hard, soft, and everything in between.  He finally slowed and took me in his two hands and held me that way; throbbing but not stroking.

“If I’m right your pain is gone and I could have you face down; but this,” he gave my mighty boner a squeeze that made me jolt with excitement, “Would make that uncomfortable.  We can go a couple of directions here.  I can take care of THIS,” he squeezed me again, “And there are a couple of options to that itself. After that you could turn over comfortably and I could give your shoulders and neck another round and take care of the rest of you.”

I still had his pea-sized balls and hard miniature dick in my mouth and was really in no position to reply.  But he’d paused without presenting the other “directions” and seemed to need prompting.  Fortunately I could open my mouth wider; after all I was trained to take my husband’s huge endowment!  “An uh-her digehuns?” I garbled around his parts and then went back to sucking and licking him aggressively.

Knox chuckled and gave my bone another squeeze before releasing it.  “I’d hoped this one would be the way we went,” he said and gave my throbbing manhood another squeeze.  “But the other choices are I can work your legs while you’re on your back; and we’ll end up where we are now.  Or you can turn over and risk an injury that would be a terrible shame; and I can pretend your beautiful manhood isn’t being maimed from contortion under you and try to make you forget that pain by giving your shoulders and neck and then your legs and back a great workout.”  He paused and I hadn’t paused sucking and licking his dick and nuts.  “But either way you’ve got to stop sucking me soon or I’m gonna nut.”  For the first time his tone was insistent; still he made no move to pull away.

We were both startled by Kent’s voice from the side.  “Don’t stop Al.  And you just stand there and let go Knox,” Kent said in his deep voice nearing us as he spoke.

I make it my mission to grant whatever my husband asks of me so I went to work in earnest despite the challenge of the little I had to work with.  I felt Knox leaning down on me more and then felt Kent’s chin against my forehead and felt Knox tense and then shiver.  Kent was tonguing this boy’s hairless hole.

“Oh fuck I’m so close to nutting.  Oh fuck if you don’t … OH FUCK!”  He shouted the last and grabbed hold of my hard-on again like he was holding on to avoid bringing swept away.  “Yaaaaaaaaaaaa!” he cried and tensed and then shuddered.

I felt torrents of his seed flood my mouth.  Where that much came from with navy beans for balls I had no idea; but the shots were forceful probably owing to the little cock and force of shooting high volume through it.

He was moaning and writhing through the many shots; I knew Kent was still eating him out and hadn’t slowed his efforts.  Finally the boy tried to free himself of both of us and begged.

“OH GOD SOOOO sensitive.  PLEASE!”

He was pushing at my chest and I let his meager manhood fall out of my mouth.  He almost vaulted to the side off me and away from Kent.  Then he turned and put his hand on my shoulder very gently despite it shaking.  “SORRY!  I hope that didn’t hurt you!”

“I’m feeling great Knox,” I told him.  Then I grabbed my hard dick still waiving in the air.  “Well maybe I need some attention here,” I said with an needy grin first at the massage boy and then at my husband looming above him.

Knox looked at my hard-on and licked his lips; I’m certain it was involuntary.  “I uh I don’t do this with clients.  Mutual touch is the limit.”

Kent laughed.  “Well that ship sailed when you let loose your swimmers in my husband’s mouth!  Now you know as well as we do that you’re going to ride my husband’s hog while you blow me.  Don’t we?”

“I just want you to know that I usually only give a happy ending with my hand; and I never ever cum myself.”

I looked up at Kent from my comfy position on my back on our bed; I still had the delicious taste of the masseur’s big load on my taste buds.  “Hon I really don’t want him to do anything he doesn’t feel comfortable doing.  He’s already made me feel so much better.  You above all people … “

Kent shut me down before I could fully reference his own past as a sex worker.  “He wants it; look at him.  He can’t take his eyes off your big dick beckoning him to climb on.  He’s shaking he wants it so much.  Tell him Knox.  Tell my husband that you crave his cock deep inside you.”

“I want it.  But I don’t want you to think I’m a whore.  I didn’t come here to have sex beyond a hand job; giving one.  That’s all.”

“This is boring.  I don’t know how you could even stay hard with this drivel,” Kent growled.  Then he turned and stomped out of the room.  As he was passing through our sitting room he yelled back, “Do whatever you two want; I’ve got a tennis match anyway.”

Knox looked at me wide-eyed.  “Al I’m SO sorry.  This didn’t turn out anything like I expected.  I’m so sorry I caused you and Kent to have words.”

“The good news is that my hard-on is a bit less insistent.”  I carefully turned myself over to be face-down; without bending or breaking my cock.  “And you’re amazing at what you do.”  What I didn’t tell the masseur was that my husband’s tennis date was more than two hours away.

Knox wasted no time going to work on my shoulders and neck from that angle.  Within a minute or two I was floating again.  In another twenty minutes he’d worked his way to my glutes; my dick was hard as a pipe again and angled uncomfortably between me and the bed creating an epic wet spot on his sheet and probably on ours underneath.

He worked my glutes and teased my crack and eventually my hole and taint and brushed my balls until I was panting.  His miniature junk grinding into the back of my head was … interesting.  But then he went to the other side of the bed and began working my feet; any heavenly sensation paled by comparison to his foot massage.

First my left then my right; I was in a blissfully dazed state when he worked my ankles and then my calves.  He got on the bed and pulled my foot up bending my knee and really worked my lower leg.  First my right and then he crawled around and did my left in the same way.

And what he did with the back and front of my knee?  Who knew how sensitive and erotic a knee could be?  Now I did!

Then he gently lowered my left leg to the bed and carefully pulled it to the side bending my knee and went to town on my left quads and hamstrings.  And even the extreme sideways angle didn’t prevent the back of his hand rubbing my hard-on repeatedly; I whimpered when he finished and replaced my leg straight out and went to the right side.

The right upper leg was as transcendental an effect as the left.  Only this time when we’d gotten to the point where his hand would stop brushing my drooling dick he swiped over the slick head and then stroked me a few times with my pre for lube.

“Oh god!” I hissed.

Knox spoke for the first time in a long while.  “About that ride … “

“I’d prefer to pound you into oblivion!” I told him.

“I’d prefer to be able to shit without a bag afterward,” he replied crudely.  “I’m clean by the way.  And you know I’m vaccinated.  But I was tested a week ago.  And whether you believe it or not I hadn’t been with anyone for over four weeks then; now it’s over five about six weeks.”

I turned over onto my back.  “So if it’s a hand job get it going!”  My dick was waiving like a metronome.

“Oh no!” he protested.  “I’m gonna ride it.  Only I’ll control the stretch and the pace and the depth.”  I reached and grabbed his entire junk into my hand and pulled him not once but twice.  “Whoa dude; EASY!”

He took the not subtle hint though and reached over and got one of the jars of cream.  He offered it to me.  I looked at him.  “It’s gonna take a ton of this to get THAT in,” he said with a strong glance toward my dripping dick.

Knox put the jar in my hand and turned around and presented his hairless pink hole to me.  To be perfectly honest the shaved hole wasn’t very appealing to me; if he’d been naturally hairless that would have been fine.  But to me body fur shaving is the same as de-masculation.

Not that it stopped me!  I took a glob of the cream and brought my fingers to his hole and smeared it over and around it.  The boy moaned and moved his ass around like he was trying to get my fingers inside; so I pushed in at his opening with my thick middle and index fingers.

“Ahhhhhh SHIT!” he cried as I forced my way inside his tight opening.  He didn’t pull away though; he pushed back.

“Glad I didn’t miss the fun,” Kent’s voice boomed from the doorway.  When I turned I saw he was naked and half-stiff.

Knox turned and looked over his shoulder now fucking himself on my slicked fingers. “Holy fuck!” he cried.  “What the fuck happened at this house?  Some mutant elephant cock ray was unleashed on you?”

Kent chuckled and I worked my ring finger into the boy along with the others with some but not much resistance now.  “Good boy!” I told him.

“FUCK that makes me hot!” he moaned.

“Me stretching your boy-hole?”

“That.  And you calling me ‘boy’ while you’re prepping to own my boy-hole.”

“I already do own it, boy!” I snapped at him and jabbed in faster and deeper.  “And now I’m about to use it!”

With my fingers still inside him I pushed him with my other hand.  He got the hint and with some difficulty because he was still impaled got himself turned and positioned with his feet on either side of my waist directly over my jutting hard-on.  I gently pulled at his waist and removed my fingers just as my tip made contact.  The gape was enough; my wide-spread head was half in him.

I pulled him down and gave him no chance to relax; I wanted him to take me while the first few inches of his channel were stretched loose.

“FUCK you’re BIG!”  His face was screwed tightly and he was biting his lower lip.

“Truth boy; but I can tell your hole can take it easily and more!” I told him as I pulled him down until he had over four of my inches inside him.

For the first time he resisted; and I didn’t force him farther.  It was just a moment but it was apparently what he needed; the clench he had on my dick relaxed and he plunged down with a plop.

“FUCK!” roared the boy.

I was looking down my torso at him and I’m sure I only imagined seeing the outline of my cock poking out from behind his abs.   I couldn’t continue to watch; Kent had stepped up and had his hairy nuts directly over my mouth and my nose in his hole.

While the boy began to ride my dick I went at Kent’s hole with gusto.  I wasn’t aware he was so ripe; he tasted like a man should and I suckled on his big balls one by one and then got my head back and my tongue up in the hairy hole.  While Knox rode my long dick up and down and moaned and swore Kent began riding my tongue.  I didn’t bother to stop to think that my neck didn’t hurt at all … though I was straining to get my tongue farther up in him and later was exceptionally sore under my tongue.

I’d learned once that some men had their tongue frenulum cut or did it themselves to increase their tongue’s reach.  What I’d read said that it was generally believed but was unconfirmed that Gene Simmons had the procedure.  As the boy rode my length up and down I wished I’d had that done so I could get more of me inside my own man.

Kent was praising my hole-eating and bucking and grinding on my face with abandon.  Knox was now riding me hard and fast and moaning continuously and threatening to cum; I could feel his body shudder each time I pummeled his love nut and suspected he really was close.

“Do it BOY!” Kent goaded him and accentuated the word for his enjoyment.  “Show me what ya got inside you!”

And about then the boy’s pussy clenched TIGHT around me as his bucking became erratic and his cries turned to a wail.  I felt some hot splashes as he continued to spasmodically piston himself on me and his channel clenched rhythmically and matched the cadence of the splats.

“Amazing!” I heard Kent say and surmised he was witnessing what I’d experienced when I’d sucked down the boy’s first load.  How did those tiny balls produce so much?

“Now boy get your mouth on this and take my load; we’re ready to show you what real men’s loads are!”  I suspected this boy knew LOADS about men’s loads.

I felt the angle change and combined with the effect of the clenching I was ready.  I took control of his hips and began slamming up into him and grunting.

“Yeah boy; my man’s about to fill you and so am … unnnnnnggggggghhhhhhh!”

Kent’s words devolved as his ass clenched and then he was wracked with spasms as I felt him pumping himself out with my tongue still in his hole.  For me I was over the edge and planted in him as deep as I could blasting my load upwards into him.

We were all quiet for words and were just grunting, hissing, and moaning as the boy took his fill of us.  I finally felt the boy sit up straight again and knew Kent was finished and had released him.  I was done too but still planted inside him.

Then I heard a slap and felt Knox jolted while still impaled on my dick; he yelped loud.  “How was that boy?” Kent asked him.

I hear Knox groan as he pulled himself up the length of me until my fat head plopped out.  “Amazing sir!” Knox said simply but so infused with meaning.  “May I massage your neck some more Al before I go?”

It surprised me; I suppose I thought this was the epic happy ending and he’d be hurrying to get on his way.  “I won’t say no to it,” I answered as Kent dismounted also.

Kent bent down and kissed me lasciviously.  When he broke the kiss just before I passed-out from him taking my breath away he said, “Damn I taste good on you!” and chuckled; as did I.

Then he went out the French doors to the lanai and left them open just enough for Sasha; he predictably bounded through and followed Kent outside.  “THERE’S my buddy!” I heard him say.  My world was right there.

Knox spent nearly another hour working my shoulders from various positions. The last was me sitting on the chair (the masseur had drawn the sheet off the bed and then asked for some towels as the sheet was “moist and slimy” in places; I momentarily reflected that we were as well) with him standing behind me.  That was the best as he directed me to let my head loll and he supported my neck with his hands.   

When I finally asked him if he wasn’t wiped out and his arms about to fall off he said he wasn’t but he said he knew he stunk of sweat; he could smell himself.  I rather enjoyed the miasma.  Okay you caught me; I fucking loved the stench of sweat that hung in our bedroom.

I offered him a shower and pointed into our bathroom as he was stuffing the sheet and creams and lotions back into his bag.  I was enjoying his ass bent over and leaking my DNA; and I was fantasizing about taking him in the wet room under the sprays.

Knox declined though and said he’d clean up “thoroughly” at home and got into trunks and tank top.  I asked him if he forgot his jock strap; he held it up.  “Nah but it needed washing already; I just didn’t want to smell that rank in the Uber.”

“Maybe you should leave it here and put it on my bill.”

The masseur looked at me for a moment with a sly grin. Then he tossed the jock-strap to me and I brought it to my nose.  It definitely had been used … well used.  I inhaled deeply and my dick began growing again.

Kent materialized at that right moment and had his phone and was still naked.

“Venmo or Zelle?” he asked standing there in his god-like naked glory.  “And am I paying you for an encore while I go play tennis?”

“Uhhhh wellll … “ Knox stuttered and looked at him.

Yeah I feel that way often.  Then he continued and I realized my middle-aged fixation on Kent might not be as novel to a contemporary of his; particularly one who was in his profession and saw enough men that he was bound to come across a few hotties like my husband.  I chuckled at my own pun.

“Truth guys,” Knox finally got out.  “I’d feel like a totally unprofessional guy if I took money for what we did here today.  And I have to be able to look myself in the mirror.  I can’t take your money.”

“Al!” Kent snapped so sharply that I jerked to attention; fortunately without pain.

“Jesus!” Knox explained.  “He needs to moderate his motions until the tissues have all settled down!” he admonished Kent.

Kent looked duly chastised.  “Al hon,” he said overly solicitously, “Did Knox’s massage help?”

“Help?  He made it all go away; every bit of the constant pain and tension and the jabs when I moved.”

“Yeah.  And you massaged him for almost two hours … net of our … horseplay.”

Knox looked down at Kent’s magnificent dick hanging in all its soft glory and then at mine.  More to himself he said, “Horse is the right word for it.”

I laughed but Kent was determined.  “Al do you have his payment address?”  I didn’t and told him so.  “Knox,” he said sternly, “We don’t barter sex.  You did a job and we’re paying you for that and maybe for the strap Al is huffing on; for the sex you’ll get a sweaty hug and maybe if you’re lucky a parting grope.  Now AirDrop me your payment address and rate.”  It was a command that Knox couldn’t ignore.

Knox had his phone in his hand and did as Kent asked.  “Zelle would be awesome; I don’t have to pay for that.  But I’m sorry I gotta book guys.  I ordered the Uber to pick me up at the gate since it couldn’t get in; and what seemed like an eternity is now just under ten minutes until it gets here.  I gotta get walking.”

“Nonsense,” I told him and walked around them and headed for my discarded shorts and t-shirt.  “I’ll drive you to the gate.”

As I put lifted my shirt they both called, “Let me help you with that.”

“No need,” I said and painlessly but very carefully pulled my t-shirt on.  “See what you’ve done for me?” I directed to Knox.  “Now about that grope before we go.”

On the drive back up from the gate after he left Kent said, “Not so bad eh?”

I took my eyes off the road long enough to give him a disapproving and totally insincere glance.  “Life with you is always good babe.”  He reached out and I took his hand and then got out so Kent could get to his tennis match.

By the time I come home with dinner, I am not the least bit surprised to walk into a dark abode. My Husband works from home and has everything he needs to do his job in his upstairs office. His TV to watch Bloomberg and his many computer screens for day trading. When the Markets close for the day, he goes for a change of scenery by skipping over the main level to retire to his beloved “man cave” down in the basement.

I can hear the slight muffles of his farts whiff up the stairs as I transfer the piping hot food I bought from its container and put it neatly on a plate. I walk down the stairs with it stopping at the wooden bar to make him his drink. It is Thursday. This means it is a Steel Helmet night, a drink that consists of equal parts vodka and coffee liqueur, cream, and Galliano liqueur on top to go with his meal.

The media concave where I find My Husband is dark yet illuminated well by the projector that fills the humungous wall. He is watching his much-loved porn. It is always porn, if not mostly. I think nothing of it anymore as I sit his plate down on the table next to his chair. He gets his most divine inspiration from his cyber porn collection via his many profiles across various sites. I smile at the many wonderful ideas he will have in store for me later. That smile swiftly dissipates when I recognize the dark arm arching over the bent white rear brandishing off its shaven ball sac with a large loop marked and centered over the delicately shaven butthole.

It is my rear up there. My dicktoy for the night making an H and an E with his marker around the circle. He begins to write other nasty and degrading things across my milky white flesh before I am spread eagle with a shock wand attacking my boi-clit, leaving me completely horrified to watch.

More than that, My Husband isn’t just sitting in some of the other leather chairs scattered about the room. He is in the sleek leather recliner, the one that cuffs his thick legs and nurses his hot dog-rolled neck with heavy padding and speakers along his ears so he can hear the slightest pin drop in the background of the vivid display. I know better than anybody My Husband hears me laughing and begging for my boi pussy to be wrecked. My then-master—the cameraman—vowing he and his group of merry thugs will do just that.

I never hid my past from My Husband. But this—this scene plastered on the wall in our house was never meant for his eyes.

Look at the amateurish camera angles, I want to scream.

And while the camera wasn’t hugely expensive, the quality rivals that of a professional lens with its crisp frames.

This happened long before I really knew my role, I telepathically tell him through his thick unwavering skull looking at the horsehair flogger come across my small bare nubs.

***

My daddy and his granddaddy were racists. Those old controlling Confederate flag-waving jerks always yelling about their First Amendment Rights. When my great uncle executed his for his love for big black dick, I followed suit. Ran off with the first black man I ever laid lust on. I lucked up on a man that was both strikingly handsome and quite the charmer. He was also a master that owned a bunch of slaves. He introduced me to the joys of sex in and around his river cabin. I quickly discovered I loved it rough; even when he shared me with some of his more seasoned slaves as their just reward.

My boi clit tingled for the whip of his cane. It itched more relentlessly for the slapping of his hard charcoal black skin against my ivory hide, the skins and the strap-ons of his slaves, that forever brought my boi pussy to quakes with every soulful plunge.

Shortly after my master let me go, my slave-brother gave me a number to an old master of his. The old master wasn’t taking on any new slaves, so he referred me to a mistress that handed me over to a so-called master-in-training by the name of Derk, the beautiful asshole. I showed him my obedience and he wanted nothing more than a sissy to mess over without the finesse or the delusion of something more. He used my insatiable need to get fucked against me with his friends, videotaping many of our escapades before passing me around to stranger men in various places doing the same thing. It was only after a very long haul lying in the back of a pickup, I ended up on the doorstep of this older gentleman that lived alone in a trailer park.

I assumed the sole purpose of this man was to be another notch in my boi snatch before he passed me on down the line. Right away, he proved different than the others. He wasn’t ugly or grotesque, as I wasn’t really turned on by short fat translucent men with coke-bottled glasses. He swiftly changed my mind by delivering on every filthy thing he said he was going to do to me. He not only left all my openings throbbing for more after he was done, but he took the strongest line of care with me than any man had ever done before. As if he couldn’t be as good as he was if I wasn’t good and turned on. I never felt in danger, so to speak, but he was the first man to ever make me feel safe. With those things tied together, it made me want to serve him more, serve him better than any man that had ever used me before. He cleaned me up and claimed his rightful place as my master.

A couple of years later, while taking an elaborate whip to my pierced boi clit, he asked me what was my greatest wish. In a blubbering mess, I told him he was through and through, but failed to stop there, begging to be his boi wife slipped out, his exclusive cumdump, ‘til the end of time.

That was ten years ago when he did me the honor. Back when he was just getting use to retirement from the mechanic yard for the county and up for the challenge of using his big country cock to satisfy a poor sissy that had been thoroughly used before. Back when all he could afford was a spiked dog collar than a simple wedding ring. And long before watching that informercial that afforded us a more than comfortable lifestyle.

“Cunt.” My Husband growls angrily on his leather padded throne after the scene of me happily blowing bubbles of cum with my mouth fades to black.

My boi pussy prickles at the crass title, his term of endearment for me. It let me know he is always thinking about my cabbage patch as I always do his hefty slab of tubesteak with its enormous set of potatoes. All the same, I stand still and stone-faced beside him waiting on his direction. I get ready to grab his utensils and plate to feed him when he raps his thick stubby fingers against the armrest. I know this is my universal cute to stand in front of him and get undress.

After a decade of marriage, he knows my body well, every square inch that makes me fidget, and I his. Yet I undress slowly like he is a stranger holding me hostage, a deviant pervert, that I am unsure what lewd plan is on the horizon.

My Husband like the many men before is black, though he looks completely white. Everybody he meets mistakes him for a white man, even my homophobic daddy, as I laughed in his face and told him the truth before he finally disowned me. It is called passing, my coworker Jonquinette explained, with his very fair skin and ginger brown hair whitening by the strands and these dull eyes that froth of sea foam.

He thoroughly inspects me without touching, motioning me to turn around. With my rear clearly in his face, he rubs his old calluses over my jiggly buns, giving then a playful swat practically in synch with the next clip on the screen. The jolt makes me look at the assorted network of whips he has in the corner. It is his intimidation tactic. And his flogs and his paddles and his canes and his belts have a way of extracting a different shriek out of my throat, My Husband knows better than best his gruff hands are the very things that make me slick and wet for him. His fingers make nice with my boi pussy and sweet spot inside, and his chunky thumb brusquely inserts itself in my snug ungreased abyss.

I am hit with a flashback. A teaser from yesteryears of the countless pairings of me that used to saw into each of my openings during a three- or moresome. It pales in comparison to My Husband pulling his sticky digits and slapping my warm boi pussy with these maddening clusters of thuds that turn me on with no climatic resolve.

He pulls his hand away after I let a moan mistakenly escape from my lips.

“Cunt.” My Husband growls after five long minutes of stewing in his silence. “Dinner is getting cold.”

I turn around. I go for his plate, and then he tells me, “…but it’s your duty to get me comfortable first.”

I look down at him. Not at the glasses covering his green eyes, because I know better than this, he is hypersensitive to this, but at the bulging midsection that makes up the better part of his stout frame, sitting there looking back at me commandingly as I know what he expects out of this boi cunt.

Comfortable means comfortable.

I descend to my knees at his large oiled-stained boots. I grab one of his thick legs out of its padded cuff and carefully undo his boot. I take it off following his sweaty tube sock to reveal a big fat foot that doesn’t quite seem to go with the rest of his body. My puckered lips are subservient just the same kissing the top of his foot before I suck his toes with the eagerness of popping sweet kernels of kettle corn in my mouth, submissively doing the same with his other leg, foot, and toes.

He quickly moves to his feet. I undo his belt and denim jeans, pulling them down first, and then take in the slow pleasure of unwrapping his revved-up cock. I pull his shirt over his Buddha belly and over his head before I make my way down on my knees, neatly folding his clothes at his feet.

“Hands,” he commands loudly.

He doesn’t want me handling his food after I touched his feet, of course. I head back over to the bar and wash my hands thoroughly for thirty seconds before I am allowed to come back to his plate right at his side.

“Light duty, Cunt,” he growls.

Usually, it is my pleasure to hand-feed him every morsel, putting the fork under his thin graying moustache and his concoction of the same color against his lips, but with “light duty” he isn’t interested in me doing that right now. My pleasure is whatever he commands of me next.

“Knees, Cunt.”

I oblige hesitantly, getting down on my knees. He takes one hand to my face and gently caresses it. Then, without warning, he slaps me with the other hand, hard, again and again. This is his way of getting me in line. Letting me know this isn’t a game for him, to reduce me to the nothing I was when he first laid eyes on me. His cock bobs against my whimpers and my boi pussy betrays me with a violent cliff of twitches that reminds me of the first time he fucked me.

“Back on your feet, Cunt,” he adds, pulling me by the hair with one final slap.

The first part of my foot routine is to let him know I worship the ground he walks on. This, of what he is asking me to do now, is almost biblical, as I fetch him a tub of warm water to wash his feet while he eats and watches porn.

My Husband knows I enjoy doing this favor for him, too. He just doesn’t have the slightest of clue how much. I dare not look up at him while he does this. I do however sneak a couple of peaks at him while I dry and begin to rub his feet tenderly. He has a funny, but admirable shape to his stout frame. His chest is alabaster and flat and near hairless with spiky dime-sized nipples that is almost identical to the same whiteness as the rest of him. His belly is large and round. His cock long and awkwardly thick like an unpeeled plantain not evenly stuffed, with the two together making up the eyeless head of an albino Mr. Snuffaluffagus.

I giggle in my head at this sometimes. My savior, my dream beau, my knight and shining armor. My other senses quickly kick in with this voracious untapped appetite that makes me want to crawl out of my burning skin because he is all those things, the master of my domain.

“Cunt,” he growls after he sits his cleaned plate back on the table.

I continue to rub the soles of his feet unfazed. Not as an act of hesitation, but as I try not to be so obvious in how he still makes me feel after all these years, this urgent need to orgasm without touch.

He raps his fingers against his knee this time. He smirks coyly when his eye catches mine, patting his upper thigh.

I crawl into his lap like he wants me to. I brace myself for his harsh hand to come across my rear. I get his hand, but not in the fashion I expect. His fingers are itching at my boi pussy again, against the tender folds of the outside and the again roaming my insides. My Husband knows well how to get me going: pure, unadulterated manic finger-fucking, like a musician fine-tuning his instrument. I want to scream a release at this first touch of orgasm. I can’t. If I do, he’ll stop, proving his undying point that I’m still the dirty little whore that filmed that movie. Shamefully, I am. Back then it was about my love of dick, any dick. About making one of those big ugly cunt-stretchers whimper like a little bitch in heat and crawl back under its hood after extracting its most cherished prize—its seed. From the time I met My Husband, however, I’ve refused to be anybody else’s slutty cock-hungry whore but his.

I try to hold back, muffle my screams. It is futile. My boi pussy is wet against his fingers again, and my second wave of orgasm coerces me to shut my eyes and forget I am not to screech.

My Husband lets out a pleasing grunt. Bringing his soaked fat fingers to my mouth, forcing me to suck the juices he created out of me. I feel this is my place.

It is not my place, he subtly explains.

He shows me my place with his calluses coming hard across my bare rear. Once, twice, three times more. Enough! He pauses briefly to my excitement and wild breathing. Then, he comes down hard against me over and over again until I am numb and stinging and surely bright red back there.

“My cock, Cunt,” he barks after my last glorious yelp.

His cock, my spine tingles. Just on cue, I feel his cock pulse with an unsteady beat against my flat tummy.

My runny juices are moistened against his thigh as I roll off him with strangling sobs. It isn’t from the punishment he put on my rear. This is the pent-up climax he hadn’t shattered yet.

I know my place. This isn’t about me. If I play my cards right, it surely can be.

“Come back here.” He growls, thumping his knee. “Cunt.”

I look at him, sitting there like a small giant in his chair. He feels like he is a thousand miles away, somehow. He gives me his first real tattling smile of the night as I crawl back to him on hands and knees.

“Open your filthy mouth, Cunt.” He growls again.

I shiver.

I wrap my hand around his cock with many inches to spare, to enjoy, to take fully between my parted mouth. I look up to find his lips are parted, letting out a soft betraying groan. He doesn’t often do this on a whim for me. He wants me to work him as his boi wife. I know the video has played its part in this. I take it from there, concentrating on rubbing my tongue against his now-leaky tip, aiming for another sound to betray his body.

“Balls,” he commands, snatching me by my hair.

I hold his cock above my head just like he likes and slurp his balls, cherishing each of them like flavorful grapes in my mouth.

“Oh, fuck, Cunt,” he grumbles.

Soon enough, he guides his cock back into its rightful place. I try to gain the lead on this one, taking him back into my mouth; sucking him hard and deep as I can take him down the gullet. I can’t fully explain it. It is something empowering about taking this most prized possession and making him weak in my mouth.

He showed his dominance once again, pulling me off him. He gets out of his chair and walks away. My Husband appears to be abandoning me. That is until I see the leash and feel the dog collar he has obviously slipped around my neck to tug me along.

On hands and knees, I follow My Husband down the hall to the other rooms. If we were to make love, it would be done upstairs in the comfort of our marital bed. It is not. This is a fuck he is going for, much like it was in the video. He has his rooms down there. Dungeons, if you will. Mostly hard and cold and dark encased in brick and cinderblocks where his devices and chains hang from the walls and ceilings. It looks like a place where hostages are kept. He leads me into the room where the padded platform is and ropes dangle just above the pad.

He ties my wrists upward to the ceiling, and my ankles the same, so my legs are spread wide and up in the air. I prepare my mouth for a gag, a soft gag bar preferably, but he makes it well know he wants to enjoy my screams as he oils up my rear.

He holds me steady against the tension of the ropes, coming up behind me. He plays with my boi pussy while my boi clit squirts hoping it is an excellent distraction from his cock burrowing its way deep into my wrinkled chute and fucks me hard and silly.

***

A few hours later, I sit down at my computer. I am naked with painfully sore thighs and a raw anal cavity still squishy of a third barrel of My Husband’s creamy-battered penis-crafted brew. I see another email from that bastard Derk, my former tormentor. He recently got wind of our small fortune. He thinks he deserves a cut of the action for bringing My Husband and I together. He has followed through on his ominous threat of posting old videos of me online, and vows to post more if we don’t pay him his fee.

The only email he has doesn’t belong to My Husband. It is mine under My Husband’s name, in honor of his respective ownership of me. The bastard Derk has made me work really hard to download these clips off some of those “lame” sites just to upload them again onto My Husband’s favorite porn sites hoping he’ll catch wind of my boi cunt being humiliated for the entire world to see.

My Husband loves seeing me at my sluttiest. Even after ten years of marriage, he believes strongly he can reform me from the whore I was to the cock-hungry boi cunt he always thought I could be.

My Husband hadn’t seen nothing yet compared to the hardcore arsenal I know Derk still has in his collection.

My boi cunt itches at the possibilities of being stretched out by My Husband.

Now, if only I can only get that dumbass bastard to give me everything he has…My Husband still has a long way to go if he expects me to live up to my full potential.

He is a worm digger. I am a fruit picker. He is a white man, and I, a latino. He is carefree and self-employed, and I, just an illegal trying to live the American dream.

We ended up meeting by the bay. When our eyes met, we knew our lives would never be the same again. This is how our tale began.

My name is Carlos. I come from a South American country, Brazil–a third world country. I came to America to make money and if lucky, stay here and try to live the American dream.

My work is very simple. I pick apples from morning til evening. I work very hard to save as much money as I can.

Apples are gentle to hold but heavy as well. I pick each fruit, and put it into a cloth bag. When the bag is full, I deposit them into the back of a large cart, pulled by a tractor. When the season for picking fruit is over, I’ll do like the others, and dig ditches. It’s a dirty and heavy job, but they say the pay is good.    

Seldom do I have free time left. Adriano, Luan, and Manolo like to go to town on Saturday nights, to drink beer, cruise, and dance in low-reputation bars where people my kind go to. I stay home and try desperately to save every cent I can. I even scrub the bottom of a peanut butter jar with my spoon, mix water to my dish detergent, anything to save money. I also have a hobby to fill my time, something that doesn’t cost me anything.

Adriano gave me his used camera. The LCD screen was cracked and he wanted to sell his camera. As no one wanted it, he offered it to me. I looked at the Canon camera and returned it to him.

“I can tell you haven’t much saved, Carlos. Well, you can have it. It’s a gift.”

“Oh, thank you Adriano!” We hugged. I had tears in my eyes. He also gave me five blank DVDs for storing my photos.  

Now, in my free time, I take photos. Like I said, it’s a cheap hobby. When I want to download the photos, I borrow his old laptop computer. Then I record my photos onto a DVD. I pay $.50 for doing this. At first he didn’t want to get the money. But I said it was just fair, for I used his equipment.

One day, I heard that not far from here, there was a lovely place, where you could go by bike to fish. Many latinos go there secretly. I love fishing too. Maybe I could join the guys and find out more about this place.

My gay latino acquaintances are too tired or drunk to wake up early on a Sunday morning. Instead, I go there with Bernardo, a stocky quiet man. He likes catching birds and building wooden cages for them. He says that back in Venezuela he had many birds and used to make a living by selling them. He also said he left Venezuela because, well, during the fight, he had to defend himself and, the man tripped and ended up breaking his own neck.   

Once, he gave me a nice little cage and a shy smile. I thanked him and took a photo of him. He looked at the screen and smiled. He said he was looking older now.

Adriano said that Bernardo was interested in me. “I don’t think so, because he likes girls,” I said. He’s got many cheap adult magazines at his place. Once I saw him entering the bathroom with a magazine. We all use the same collective dark bathroom.  

“Carlos, you’ll like this place. We can catch fish and cook them, like the Americans do.” I remain quiet, peddling and worried not to damage the bike I borrowed from Adriano.

We get on a beautiful road with flowers all along it. Then we reach the forest, which Bernardo tells me, hides the bay. I nod. We hide our bikes in the woods and take a walk in a long winding and slippery path.

“This is so beautiful!” I can hardly believe it. The bay! I take a photo and ask Bernado to take a picture of me. He doesn’t like to have his picture taken.

“We can go fishing, but we’d better watch for the Americans. If we see them, we’d better run, otherwise, you know.”

“Yeah, deportation.” This is the feared word among us. We walk along the bay and I shoot many photos. Suddenly, we hear noises. People are coming our way. Bernando and I hide.

“We’d better go home now.”

“Of course.” I don’t even turn around, in fear the Americans see us.

On the next Sunday, very early in the morning, I invite Bernardo to go to the bay again. He says he’s afraid of being deported and stays in his dark room. I can hear a girl giggling as he closes his door.

Anyway, I want to go there again. So, I borrow his bike and go there by myself. This time, I don’t seem to find the spot we took the last time. I just know the bay should be in the back of the forest. Then I hide the bike and walk into the woods. Big mistake!

The big stones and rotten fallen branches of trees make the walk almost impossible. I’ve obviously taken the wrong turn. Wherever I look, I see trees and rocks. Everywhere I turn to, looks the same to me!

This place is isolated and no one will ever find me. I start to tremble and sit on the ground. I wish Bernardo were here with me. I know I cannot shout for help, for the Americans will hear me. Nobody can know I am here. I begin to cry. Then I remember my grandmother’s teachings, “When you’re in danger, ask the Virgin Mary for help. She’ll surely help you if your heart is pure and your need is great.” I close my eyes and recite a silent prayer to the Virgin.

As I walk a long way up, I think I hear someone not too far from me. I have never been so happy to hear a human voice again! Yet, I must be careful. I brush some branches and see a white American taking a leak. My heart skips a beat. If he sees me, I’ll surely be deported. He’ll report me to the authorities!

The man is tall, strong, white, and he has a goatee. He’s also very hairy, for he’s not wearing a shirt. I think he must be in his early thirties I think. Someone calls his name.

“Bob, stop jacking off and let’s go catch worms!”

“Is that a way to talk to your boss, Rick!” Both men climb the truck and move away. Now I can breathe again. I can still hear their words vividly in my head, as I peddle my bike back to our shack as fast as I can.

“Did you see, boss?”

“What?”

“The authorities are paying for each illegal immigrant that you turn down to the police! That’s $1,000 bucks! Cash on the spot! This is much more than we get in this mucky job!”

“No way, man! They’re not doing no harm to us. We need fruit pickers and, well, worm diggers too. There’s plenty for everyone in America.” I wipe my tears as I peddle back home. I feel confused. I feel I need someone to talk to. That scene cannot be wiped away from my head. Yet, Bob was a kind man. I can tell he was different from the others.

“You’re already back?”

“Yeah,” I lower my head. “Thanks for lending me your bike.”

“Well, don’t tell me those cursed Americans were there again.”

“Don’t say cursed, for not every American is like that.”

“Ok.” We drink a lemonade and Bernardo talks about Caroline, the girl he met at the fruit plantation. He seems happy and talks about their future plans, and even marriage. I also think of Bob, the American guy I saw. But I know I cannot speak about him, for he is a man, and an American. My heart is nearly bursting with a new feeling I don’t know how to describe. I just know that this feeling started when I saw this kind man today.  

On the following weekend, Bernardo does not want to join me again. He also lets me use his bike. I know Caroline has spent the night with him at his place.

I peedle and reach the forest. All this time, I think of the events from last week. I mean, I think of the white American man, Bob. I wonder if I’ll ever see him again. Perhaps not. Suppose I see him; yet I know I can’t let him see me. I daydream of meeting this man again as I enter the woods. I hum a song so as to not feel scared of being here alone. It’s a church hymn that I learned in our old church. It tells you to hold God’s hand, for He’ll help and support you. Suddenly, I think I hear someone shouting. I panic. Could that have been a bird? No, it was clearly a man!

They must have seen me riding my bike on the road! My heart skips a beat. I throw myself on the ground and hear another cry for help.

Wait! Someone is crying for help. Or maybe it’s someone pretending to be calling for help, but in reality, cops ready to take hold of us, latinos!

Anyway, I listen again and, well, by his voice, I can tell he’s an American. He is not like us, who have an accent. Moreover, we always say  ‘God’, ‘Jesus’, and the ‘Virgin’, when we speak. I know I must run away at once, before it’s too late.

As I am making my way back to my bike, I hear his cries again. I know this time is for real. He really needs my help. But I just cannot help an American, otherwise, I’ll be in trouble.

What should I do? I kneel down and start praying for this man. I’m sure the Virgin will protect and take care of him herself.

I am about to make my way back, when I hear his loud cry for help. I take a deep breath and turn around. I need to help this man! I feel the Virgin is telling me to trust in her and do what is right in my heart.

After a brief pause, I hear him and look around. Then I see a sort of cliff, but not so deep. It’s a sort of large hole. To my surprise, I find the same man from last week, Bob. I could be mistaken, for almost all Americans look the same: blue-eyed, tall, big, and hairy. I think he must have slipped as he stepped on some loose stones and fell into this small precipice. Even though this place is not too deep, he might have broken an arm or a leg. I get close to the edge. He sees me and our eyes meet for the first time.

“Thank God someone is around!” He is covered in dead leaves and dirt. “Help me, please!” I don’t say a word and try to get to where he is. “I slipped and fell into this hole. I don’t feel I’ve broken anything but, I cannot move my legs.” I can see from his eye that he’s much relieved to see me now.

“I-I’ll see what I can do sir.” I see no sign of blood on him. I feel for his strong muscular legs. Nothing, no broken bones. I offer him my hand and help him get on his feet. He’s a heavy man, but not chubby, just a strong one.

“Oh, boy! Can’t believe this happened to me.” His lips are trembling and so are his big hands. “Say, let see if we can make it to the truck. I need a warm coffee right now.”

“Were you here a long time, sir?”

“No, I guess half hour.” I notice he’s got a minor cut on his head.

With much effort, we manage to come out and reach his truck. He gives me his keys. I open the door and take the large thermos with coffee. I try to open it but cannot, for I’ve never had a thermos this beautiful in my life. He gently shows me how to do it. His large hairy hand brushes against mine. I then pour the hot drink and offer it to him. He drinks quickly and smiles.

“Better drink in the world! Mind you, my coffee is the best one around here!” He smiles for the first time. He offers me some. I sip and burn my lips and tongue. “Careful! Now you won’t be able to speak for the entire day! Hahaha!” We both laugh. “Say, you saved my life young man.” He puts his heavy hand on my shoulder. I smile and then, point to his cut on his head. He takes his first-aid box and I help him dress his cut. “Ouch! Damn this cut!”

“You’re lucky it’s just a small cut, sir.” I really admire his beautiful deep-blue eyes looking at me.

“You can call me Bob. By the way, what’s your name?” I look down. I feel his heavy hand on my shoulder. “I see. You’re a latino, aren’t you?” I nod. I feel as if I should run, now that Bob is ok. And yet, I feel his warm presence much comforting. I turn around and wipe my eyes. “Hey, you’re crying! Don’t cry, hey, come here.” He wipes my tears away, but more keep on coming.

“My name is Carlos, sir.” I feel bold, but I cannot stop my tears from falling.

“Bob! Call me Bob, if you don’t mind, my sweet angel.” He smiles. I look up and meet his kind deep-blue eyes. I can tell he is being sincere.

“I-I saw you last week, sir, I-I mean, Bob…”

“You did?”

“Yeah, you and your friend.”

“Sure, he’s my partner. We catch worms together and split the money.”

“Bob, will you turn me down to the authorities?”

“And what makes you say that?”

“I-I heard you talk about the money. A thousand bucks is a lot of money, Bob.” I look down again.

“No, why would I do that? You’re my sweet angel and saved my life!” I force a polite nervous smile. “Here, drink some more, but be careful this time not to burn your sweet lips and tongue.” I blow my coffee and sip. “Now you feel better. Well, like I said, you’ve just saved my life and I owe you one. And that means, I won’t hand you in. Actually, an idea just occurred to me now. Say, would you like to make a few bucks and catch some worms with me, my sweet angel?”

“But, are you’re ok? I mean, shouldn’t you go to a hospital to have your legs examined?” He shakes his head.

“I’ve never felt so well in my entire life. I’m a tough guy. Anyway, my partner didn’t come today and I really don’t want to waste a day’s  worth of worm money. And this way you can know the bay and I can show you my secret spots. What do you say?” I cannot hide my excitement.

“In this case I accept.”

“Good, one thing is for sure, I’m not going back to that place by myself! I need someone to go with me. For you never know what can happen to you. Even to a big guy like me!”

Bob helps me to put on the long rubber boots. I manage to walk clumsily, but after a while, I can even run on a pair like those! Then we head towards the bay. The view is just lovely and I gasp in excitement. Bob takes my hand as we enter the muddy area. My hand is small, and his are big, warm, and hairy. Then my feet get stuck, but Bob teaches me how to go about on the mud. He also gives me a tool with long teeth and teaches me how to dig and find worms. I find it really amusing for the mud is soft and there are many worms around. And in no time, we find many!

On our way back, Bob’s leg gets caught and he falls in a muddy pool.

“Damn it! Now I’ll have to take a shower again!” I help him get up and we go up to his truck. “I’m starting to get cold. I’d better strip and put on some fresh clothes.

He shows me a large gallon of water. He’s going to use it to shower. He lifts it as if it weighed nothing. Then he tells me to control the flow by holding the neck and covering the mouth with my hand.

He loses no time and removes his shirt, exposing his massive hairy pecs and strong arms. He removes his dirty jeans, and stays in his white cotton briefs. I notice the large member under his garment. Finally, he removes his socks.

“You can let the water out, my angel.”

As he is taking his shower, his hair sticks to his white body and I admire him all the more.

Inevitably, I cannot help but notice his large manhood under his briefs. I also notice his massive hairy thighs and calves. His feet are big and hairy too.

“That’s it, my angel!” He raises the big water gallon and takes a towel to dry. Then he puts his towel around his thick waist.  

“What about some more coffee, Carlito?” We both smile as he shakes his head and sprinkles water all over us.

“Stop it, Bob! I don’t need to take a shower as badly as you.”  

As we finish our drink, Bob insists I go with him to the place he sells his worms to: Betty’s Bait Store. He says the owner is his friend and will never do anything to hurt me. I feel afraid, but I know Bob is a man who keeps his words. I end up accepting and we climb on his truck.

The ride is pleasant, for I see the other side of the bay and the wide open area, where us latinos would never dare to cross. I see many trucks and lots of people entering a big store. A sign says they have bait for sale. I help Bob carry his buckets into the store. He seems to know everybody there. He is also a very smart dealer and gets some good money for his catch: $360.

Back to his truck, he offers me half the money, which I of course refuse. He insists and I end up accepting $50. I don’t want to take out his money, for I know he’s got his own expenses to pay. He drops me by the woods. He takes my hand and smiles to me.

“You’re my guardian angel, Carlito. I’ll never forget what you did for me today.” I smile. “So, be here next week! Same time!” I smile and wave to him as he drives away.

The ride back home is pleasant. I feel confident and realize that I’ve gained something else, more precious than this $50 bill: the realization that friendship can happen, even between an illegal latino and an American citizen.

“You didn’t catch anything, did you, Carlos?” Bernardo asks, while smoking a cigarette.

“No, I didn’t. But I’ve got something to tell you, Bernardo. As I went to our place by the woods today, I saw an American man.”

“Ok. You’d better keep away from them. They only mean trouble.”

“Do you think all Americans are the same?”

“Of course they are! We’re here in their country, taking away their jobs, making our money, and being illegal. They have all the reasons in the world to hate us!” Caroline comes out and Bernardo gives her a kiss. “She’s the only American I can trust.”

“I’m Mexican, you fool! My mother is Mexican, and a housekeeper. My dad, her big boss, is Texan. He just had fun with her and when he got bored, he told the authorities to take her away. In the meantime, I was born in Mexico.”

“See, Carlos. This is how Americans will treat you. And look at her, she’s got American blood running in her veins, and see how she’s been treated!”

On the following week, very early in the morning, Bernardo finds me fixing my things on Adriano’s old bike. 

“Going fishing so early in the morking, Carlos! And you didn’t invite me?”

“Well, I thought you and Caroline,” Bernardo now fixes his bike.  

“Well, you might have already heard, but, Caroline was a sweet pretty girl. She went to this bar and, this American guy came to her, and paid her a drink. He touched her and she slapped him on the face. There was a fight and some cops came.”

“I-I’m sorry to hear that.”

“But I think she’ll try to come back to America again, though it’ll be much harder for her.” He lights a cigarette. “Well, at least, now I am free to go fishing and catch my birds.”

“I-I don’t think I’ll go with you today, Bernardo.”   

“No? But you’re up so early! Where are you going then?”

“Bernardo, I’m going to catch worms with, Bob.”

“What?”

“Last week, well,” I explain to him the whole story. Bernardo sits on a stone.

“Carlos, this guy is going to be waiting for you with cops! He’s no fool. Who doesn’t want to get $1,000? Mark my words! This Bob is just like any other Americans!” Bernardo enters his unit and slams the door. I call him back, but he doesn’t come out.

I persist and knock on his door. It’s pointless. I think of Caroline, Bernardo, the cops, and Bob. I cannot do this to Bernardo; to pay bad for what good he’s done to me. At the same time, I know Bob is going to be waiting for me. I feel sorry for my kin, working here, in this land of riches. I feel I don’t deserve anyone’s trust and friendship anymore.

I look at Bernardo’s small cracked window. He’s drawn the curtains up. I have nothing more to do here. I hesitate and walk aimlessly towards my bike. There’s only one thing left for me to do.

As I ride my bike, I feel this anguishing bittersweet taste in my mouth. I feel sad for losing Bernardo’s friendship, but also anxious to meet Bob. Maybe Bernardo was right when he shut me off his house. I don’t deserve his company anymore. I’ve already made up my choice. I surely deserve to be deported, just like Caroline.   

As I continue peddling, a police car races past me and disappears at the distance. I have to stop for a moment and wipe my tears. There’s still time for me to hide behind a bush. Perhaps go back and tell Bernardo he was right in the end. But something, in my heart tells me to go on. Whatever happens, I must trust in him.

I continue peddling. As I reach the forest, far at the distance, I see his truck. I peddle faster and my heart beats happily. I don’t care if the cops are there, hidden behind the bushes. At least I’ll take a last look at him. Then I can live a happy life back home, knowing we did have some good times together before the betrayal. I see him waving and bitting a grass stem. I smile and wave.  

“Carlito! Nice to see you again!” We hug. “You’ve been crying?” He wipes a tear from my face. I nod.

“Bob, I must tell you something.” He spits out the grass stem.

“Sure.” He looks down and we both sit by the edge of the empty road. This man looks bigger when he’s sitting.  

I tell him the whole story. I talk about Caroline, Bernardo, of his slamming the door shut and drawing up his curtains. I even mention to him the scare I got seeing the police car race by me on the road, and also fearing a betrayal.

As I tell him my story, I feel his strong hand on my shoulders. He kisses my head and I see a tear in his eye too. This strong confident man, crying because of my stupid tale, of our misfortunes, which have nothing to do with his distant world.  

“I-I really feel sorry for Caroline. I really do, my Carlito.” He purses his lips. “And I understand how your friend Bernardo must be feeling. And by no means, you’re not betraying your kin, Carlito. You’re just being caught between realities that are quite harsh to live in.” I nod silently. “But what has hurt me the most, was that you thought,” he looks away. I put my hand on his big shoulder.

“Bob, intimately, I know you’d never do such a thing. The Virgin told me to trust you.” He turns to me and smiles.  

“Then you made the right choice by trusting the Virgin, my friend.” I nod. “You’re also a great friend, Carlito. And a decent one, to open up your heart and share your feelings with this stranger.”

“You’re not a stranger to me, Bob. You’re also a friend, if you allow me to call you that.” He grins.

“I’m glad to hear that, Carlito.” We embrace and I feel my heart at peace. Deep inside, I know I’m doing the right thing. I just hope that Bernardo may one day understand the way I feel about this whole situation.

   “Well, are we going to catch worms today or not, Carlito?” We both smile.

Bob and I go to another secret spot of his. On this particular one we find a lot of worms. At the bait store, he amasses $415! All people’s attention are turned to us. He says he’s got the exellent catch because of my help.

He then says he wishes to celebrate by taking me to his place. He warns me that his house is old and dirty, for he is a bachelor. His older brother used to live with him but they used to fight all the time; then he left.

“You see, Jeremy is a cop and a year older than me. So, he thinks he can boss me around, “Bob do the dishes! Bob clean up the toilet! Bob bring me a bottle of beer! Bob, the laundry pile is getting high and I have no fresh underwear to put on!’” He stops the truck by some rusty gate.

“Bob, what does this sign mean?”

“KEEP OUT, PRIVATE PROPERTY? It means, keep you ass out of my property if you’re not invited.”

“Oh, I see.” After we cross the gate, I see in the back, among green lush tall trees, his large old house. “An American house!” I gasp. He chuckles.

“Yeah, what did you expect, a German house? Ahahahaha!”

“There are two floors! You must be rich, Bob! And you said you live here alone!”

“Me rich? You’ve got to be kidding me, my friend! A worm digger and construction worker like me barely make ends meet.” He chuckles. “I bet you make more money than I do picking apples and other fruit, Carlito!”

“Me? I think I get paid well, but, we get discounted a lot, Bob.”

“Fuck! I bet those job coyotes exploit you, don’t they?” I nod. “Anyway, you’re right I live like a king in this big place. Better thing in the world! You can shit with your door open, walk in your briefs or naked in the house, burp, and no one to bug or boss you around.” He stops the truck.

“Your flower beds need water, Bob.”

“I know, Carlito. But hey, I’ve got two jobs and have no time for even showering or wipping my ass!” I begin to laugh. “What’s so funny, Carlito?”

“You said you’re so busy that you don’t shower or wipe your ass! Ahahaha!”

“Hey, I like to see you laughing!” I also notice the cobwebs on the ceiling, walls, everywhere I turn to. The old couch is covered in dust. The front porch is filled with dead leaves. “Come in! You don’t need take your shoes off!” He opens the door and we enter his large and dark living room. I can hardly believe how big it is.

“An American house!”

Seldom have I been to an American house. Only once, when I was told to fetch wood for this American family who was in charge of the workers. But I wasn’t allowed to go inside. But I saw through the window their beautiful living room. Other than that, only in the movies.

Bob then invites me to his large and messy kitchen. He washes his hands in one of the two sinks he has! I also wash, and he hands me a dirty tea towel to dry my hands.

He opens his fridge and I gasp, for I have never seen so much food. I look around the wall covered in cupboards. In one he opens and takes out a porcelain plate. I see stacks of them. I gasp as I see its full contents: saucers, cups, bigger plates, bowls, even porcelain teapots. He opens another one and I see a lot of silverware, knives, forks, spoons, spatulas, ladles, tongs, skewers. He takes a large tin and takes a loaf of bread and cuts in thick slices.

He prepares a large sandwhich. He puts roastbeef, cheese, mayo, mustard, pickles, a lettuce leaf, and tomato slices. He hands me my plate of sandwhich and I cannot believe how big that is. He hands me a glass of milk and we sit by the messy kitchen table. He eats in big bites and smiles. 

“Aren’t you eating, Carlito?”

“This sandwich is too big for my mouth, Bob.” He chuckles.

“No wonder you’re so slim. You’ve got to open your mouth like this!” He opens his big mouth. I bite my sandwich and feel the delicious taste. It taste so much better than the cheap bologna and sliced bread kind I always eat at home. One slice per sandwich. The package then lasts me a whole week. When I’m lucky, I have a cup of instant noodles. I chew the soft tasty bread, the sauces, and the pickle. “Do you like it, Carlito?” I nod, chew my food, and swallow.

“Yes, Bob.” I explain to him what I usually eat at home.

“What? Two slices of industrialized bread and a slice of bologna? No mayo, mustard, pickle, lettuce, tomato?” I shake my head. “And what do you drink? Apple juice?” He chuckles.

“No. I drink tap water. But they said it’s not good, for the water tank is not clean. But I boil it first. I can’t afford to buy juice.”  

He finishes his sandwich, while I’m still in the middle of it. He takes an apple pie from the fridge and a pot of cream.

“I hope you still have some space left for dessert in your big bird’s stomach, my little friend.” He slices his pie and puts some cream at the top. He then brews some coffee and pours that in a large mug with milk and sugar. He eats and drinks merrily. “How old are you, anyway, fifteen?” He drinks his coffee and has cream on his moustache. I take a cloth and dab it for him. He chuckles. “You’re like my mother, Carlito!” He chuckles again.  

“I’ve just turned eighteen last month.”

“Holy fuck! You’re just a child! Oh, what manners! Congratulations on your birthday, Carlito!” He gives me a big hug. “Oh, boy! When I feel you in my arms, you’re so slim and small. You’re so vulnerable and fragile, Yet, you’re strong and courageous. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here, so far away from your loved ones. I really admire you for that. By the way, where’s your family? Are you here on your own?” I shake my head.  

“I’m from a small poor town in Brazil.

It’s hard to find jobs there, and we’re scared of violence. I have four brothers; my two older ones were killed by drug dealers.” I look down.

“Where they involved in trafficking or smuggling drugs?” I nod.

“Smuggling it, Bob. They had no choice. Mom and dad were desperate and wanted to send us abroad at all costs. My little sister was too young to come. So, they managed to borrow some money to give to a famous coyote, who especialized in working with illegal immigrants. With the little money I got from the sales of popsicle, bananas, candies, and recyclables, we got part of the money. But this coyote said I could pay to his company when I got to America. I came with some people from my town, but we all got separated. Some travelled in the back of trucks, boats, trains. Anyway, I have only one good friend here, and his name is Bernardo. I know other people, but they never stay long in the same place, you know.”

“Jesus, what a mess! I know as a fact there are lots of illegal workers all over America. But hearing that from one, about your struggles and stories, gives me a different perspective, Carlito. How long have you been here?”

“It’s been almost a year. I-I haven’t spoken to my folks for that long. We only send each other letters, which is cheaper.”

“Christ! You can’t be serious? I haven’t spoken to my brother since yesterday, and I’m already missing that son-of-a-gun! He’s my only family around. Both my parents are already gone. We have no contact with our relatives. Jeremy sometimes gets invited to a cousin’s place. They wouldn’t want to see me. Not after I broke that son-of-a-gun’s nose and lower jaw.”

“But why did you do that, Bob? Isn’t he part of your family?”

“Part of my family my ass! He called me a fag and I taught him a lesson. Anyway, except of Jeremy, I’m almost flying solo, just like you, my friend.” At last I finish my sandwich. “I don’t suppose you have room left for dessert, do you?” I shake my head. “Good, now we’d better wash ourselves. Otherwise, how are we going to take a nap.” He calls me upstairs.

The stairs are wide and I gasp as I see so many paintings on the wall. He walks along the hall and opens his bedroom door. I cannot believe how big his bedroom is! I touch his large unmade bed and the soft sheets. I look at his night table, chairs, large mirror, large closet, a dresser, a mat, lamps, a ceiling fan. He opens another door and says it’s his bathroom.

“You have your own bathroom in your bedroom!” He chuckles again.

“Well, yeah. I guess this house must look like a mansion to you. Do you like it?” I nod.    

Then, he proudly says there are four bathrooms in the house! He calls me and I enter the large lit bathroom. I cannot believe it when I see a bathtub, a large stone sink, golden faucets, a large mirror, a shower place, a lot of bottles of cologne, shampoo, cream, conditioner, shaving cream, shaving lotion, Vaseline, and other toiletries. He turns to me and remains serious.

“Do you want to shower with me, Carlito?” I feel his large hairy hands on my shoulders.

“Yes, Bob.” He removes his stained white cotton sleeveless shirt. His arms, shoulders, and neck are hairy and tanned. His heavy muscular chest is white and covered in hair. His belly is large and also white and hairy. He helps me remove my own brown shirt. He licks his lips and smiles. He then undoes his buckle. I like the silver buckle and notice the cowboy pattern on. One day I hope to buy a nice belt just like his one.

He undoes the button of his denin pants and lowers his zippers. I look at his stained jeans. I bet it’s the original model, and not the thin cheap kinds we get back home. He lowers his jeans and shows his large stained white briefs. I notice that everything in his body is big. He lifts a leg then the other, but remains in his stained white socks. He lowers his large briefs and I notice it’s partly soiled. I look at his cock and gasp.

“Your cock is different, Bob.” He chuckles.

“What do you mean, different?” He takes the long fat sex and gives it a shake. He also holds his large balls. “Let me see yours then!” He folds his arms and smiles. I feel conscious of him watching me strip. I bet he’s already figured out my jeans are just a cheap imitation. I drop my thin old jeans, and my briefs. “You’re uncut! Like most latinos! Ahahaha! That’s what you meant by different!” Now I understand the difference.

“Why are you looking at me funny, Bob?”

“You’re so young and slim. C-can I touch you?” I nod. “Do you want to touch me too?” I nod. “Then why don’t you touch me? Don’t be shy, here, feel my chest, and belly.” He licks his lips and moans.

“You’re a big man, Bob. You have a big neck, your shoulders are so big. You arms are very strong. And your chest is so strong too.” He approaches me and takes me in his arms. I feel his warm firm body pressed against mine as he kisses my head.

“I-I guess I’m a faggot after all. But who wouldn’t, having a young naked angel, ready to be taken.” He smiles. “You don’t want to kiss me, boy?” I smile and kiss him lightly on his mouth. He takes my cheeks with both large callused hands and kisses me again. I feel his large tongue invading my mouth. As he embraces me again, I feel his cock pulsing and pressing hard against me. My cock also responds and it also gets hard. It’s the same burning feeling I have when I jack off at home, thinking of Bernardo. “Shall we take a shower, my love?” I smile.

“I like it when you call me love.”

“And you don’t love me?” I smile and shake my head. “No?” He frowns his thick brows.

“I like you, as a friend. Bob. And the first time I saw you, I couldn’t take you out of my mind. The second time that we met, when I helped you come out of that hole, I just realized that I could become friends with an American. Then, back to fruit picking, I was happy for I had met a nice American man. I knew then that not all American people were mean. I felt proud of being with you. I felt I would suffer if I ceased seeing you. I missed you all week and longed to see you again.”

“Oh, Lord! So you thought about me!” I nod.

“Yes, Bob. But why do you say you love me? We can never be together. We can never be like those people in the movies, who fall in love with each other, then get married.” He chuckles.

“You’re already thinking of marriage, Carlito?” I look down. He clears his throat and apologizes. “I’m sorry, Carlito. I didn’t mean to sound disrespectful and hurt your feelings.” I nod.

“Bob, when I was in Brazil, I grew up with the other kids, playing on the streets. Then I used to see teens holding hands. Once I saw them kissing, just like in the movies. Then as I became a teen myself, I also used to dream of meeting someone special, going out together, having ‘quentão’ during the cold nights.” I explain to him quentão is a drink made of sugar cane liquor, sugar, cinamon stick, clover, and ginger heated in a pan. “Then we would visit each other’s families, go to church together, get engaged, get married, and then, have sex.” He looks down and folds his arms.

“We also do these things here, Carlito.” He smiles. “I suppose you’re the old-fashioned type, which I find very special.”

“But some people in my town skip some of these steps and just wish to have fun and sex before they get married. And some never get married.”

“You mean, have fun and sex for the sake of it, just like I’m proposing to do to you?” His voice dies down.

“But with us, it’s something special. You’re an American, I am a Latino. We come from different worlds. And our future is very uncertain. In my heart, I feel you’re,” I look down. He lifts my chin. “You’re the right man for me, Bob. You’re different and kind.” I smile.

“And you’re just the sweetest child I’ve ever met, Carlito.” He grins and strokes my face. “In the past I used to think of girls, just like my brother. But I never got to go out with them, for I felt too clumsy and shy. My friends think I’m just shy, an introverted, a homebody. But, intimately, I’ve always known that I’ve loved young mans. And the first time I saw you, I felt like a hungry wolf before his easy prey.” He shakes his head. “I felt I needed to grab and take you by force. I wanted to just make you do things for me, rape you, and abandon you by the ditch. But then, I saw how fragile and innocent you were. It wouldn’t be acceptable for a big man like me to do it. I also have my conscience and morals, Carlito. And yet, you see, I’m a dirty, isolated, clumsy, and idiotic man in American standards. No wonder my brother is always pulling the wool over my eyes.” He takes a towel and covers his big waist. Then, he takes another one and covers my body. “I must confess something to you, Carlito. Oh, boy, have I suffered with you in my head all night long. Just last night, I’ve came in my briefs three times in a row in bed, thinking of this moment. Oh, boy! I suppose I’m cursed. You’ve cast a spell on me. I can’t take you off my mind.” He smiles while his tears begin to fall. He then kneels down and hugs me. “Carlito, please, don’t say you have no feelings for me. I wouldn’t be able to take it. It would break my heart to see you go and become indifferent to me. I’d feel sad, lonely, and would not be able to love anybody else in the world.” I kiss his head and ask him to stand up.     

“Bob, can you take me back to the forest now, please?” He nods.

“Of course, Carlito. But, I’ll let you shower first, my friend.” He exits and closes the bathroom door. I shower quickly and dry. I hear him showering in another bathroom. I get dressed and open the door. Then Bob comes out of the other bathroom. He still has tears in his eyes.

We go downstairs quietly. Throughout our drive, none of us say anything.

“Will I see you again, my love?” Bob’s voice is low, and I perceive a longing and aguish in its tone.

“Bob, tell you what. Please, I want you to give me about a month to think about us.”

“Thirty days? For what?”

   “I want you to take these thirty days, and, think about what we’re doing, our risks, our lives, and the obstacles that will surely come ahead.” I cover his mouth before he says anything. “Don’t say anything now, Bob. In one month, in September I’ll be here on the first Sunday. If I meet you, I’ll know. If you don’t see me, you’ll also know, and you’ll be released.” He nods. I turn my back and ride my bike away. I hear his truck driving away. Not once have I looked back. I arrive at my unit at night.

“Carlos, where have you been all day?” Bernardo is worried. “Where you with your American friend again?” I nod. “I suppose you have no more time for your latino friends, do you?”

“Bernardo, I think I love him.” He enters his small hut and slams the door again.

The work is hard. Bernardo doesn’t want to talk to me. I keep on saving every penny I can. Only Adriano has seen Bob’s photo, the only one I have of him. I hold the printed photo and kiss it. I wanted to pay him for the photo. Adriano said it was a late birthday present. Bob looks proud holding his bucket of worms in one strong hand, and a fork with long teeth on the other. He smiles confidently and seems to be saying something. I forgot what he said then. Perhaps he didn’t say anything, I don’t know.  

On the following weekends, I realize Bernardo is going fishing or trapping birds, but I pretend I don’t see him going to that dear place. Instead, I stay home and confide my feelings to my small diary. I also pray for the Virgin to protect Bob.

I hear a few people talking outside. They’ve just come back from a party.

On a Saturday night, I ask Adriano if I can join them to this latino party. But I warn him that I’m not going to spend a penny there. I’m just going to watch. We all climb the back of a truck. Bernardo is surprised to see me there, and doesn’t talk to me. He is talking with this very young and beautiful girl, Vera. Adriano says she’s just sixteen. I go back to the truck and decide to wait for the boys to come back.

Then at the distance I see his familiar truck parking. He gets off and walks towards the beverage stall and buys a beer. Gosh, he looks so handsome, manly, and confident. He’s a big man and draws attention of a lot of young latinos, who wish to make some easy cash. He takes the hand of one acquaintance and goes back to his truck. Then they drive away. I shut the glass of the truck, for I don’t wish to listen to the music anymore.

He is pursuing his own happiness. But God, why can’t I?

As the boys return to the truck, I wake up.

On the following week, we work hard in the fields. Then something unexpected happened. Everybody is talking about it. “You don’t know what happened? The older bastard and Vera ran away!” I shake my head in disbelief. 

But it can’t be. Bernardo even left his bike in his hurry. Her folks are desperate but cannot do anything, much less call the police.

The boys are planning to go to another party on Saturday. As usual, I stay home, knowing tomorrow is the first Sunday of September.

I go to sleep early and wake up early. I clean my small lodging space, count the little money I have in my pocket, for the most part is in the hands of Mr. Ramirez, who says he’s sending it to my family in Brazil for me.

I prepare a simple bologna sandwich and eat it. I drink water and decide to take a nap. I then wake up at three P.M. I go out and sit under the shade. A few people are smoking and talking about their families abroad. A man plays his guitar and sings about his fishing town in Venezuela. I hear some people say that Vera is living in a far away town. They also say that Bernado is going to be a father.

At five P.M., my tears begin to fall for I feel part of me being torn apart. At seven P.M. I finally enter my small unit and prepare an instant noodle cup for dinner. I set my improvised table made of crates, and eat, not tasting my food.

At eight P.M. I hear voices of the boys outside. Then I hear a knock on my door. That’s very odd, for I never get visitors in the evening. Besides, we all retire early to bed, for we all got work to do early on the next day.

I open the door and it’s Bob! He is holding a small black box in his hand.

“Bob! How did you?” He has tears in his eyes. 

“I had to go to this latino party and talked to one of the boys. I paid him several beers and he ended up telling me where most workes lived. I-I’m sorry, Carlos, but I had to do it, for I felt afraid I’d lose you.”

“I-I saw you that night.”

“You can ask Juliano, Carlito. We just drank beer and I, just asked him information on how to get to you, then left.”

“Bob, I can’t do this. You have a beautiful life ahead of you, why just throw it away because of someone like me?” I wipe my persistent tears. “I can’t drag you to the gutter with me. You and I would suffer when the authorities found out I’m an illegal worker. Think of the pain when we are separated. I won’t be able to bear it.”

“I-I know, my love. This is why I’ve made inqueries. You see, my brother is a cop. I’ve already spoken to him about it, about us. He, well, the bastard laughed his head off when I told him I was a fag.” He bites his lips. “Well, he said in this State of Maine, gay marriage is legal. And to give you a green card, you’d have to leave America and apply for a citizenship while you’re in Brazil. It all takes about one month at the most, for my brother has connections in the police and immigration. Carlos, please, say you want to take this risk for me, for us. I’m most than willing to endure one more month away from you, but for a nobler purpose.” I smile and hug him. He lifts me from the ground.

“Bob, even if we were never to be together again, I’d never forget you.” I wipe his tears. He wipes mine. “And I am willing to take the risk.” I can hardly believe what I’m saying. He smiles and kneels down before me. He opens the box and smiles.

“Carlos, will you accept me to be your husband?” I cover my mouth and nod.

“Bob, I do!” He puts the gold ring on my finger.

My trip back to Brazil has been meticulously arranged. I turn around and wave, as Bob blows me kisses. His brother escorts me to the Hancock County-Bar Harbor Airport with my passport. The American Airlines ATR 72 turboprop engine takes off and I marvel at the lovely sight of the ocean and island. This short flight takes me to Portland International Airport.

There, I board the huge American Airlines airplane, which takes off at night for Brazil. I watch the city lights, and wipe my tears.

Bob, my dear Bob! Take heart! A month should go fast.

Feeling tired, I close my eyes and fall asleep. In my dreams, I hear a baby crying and his mother sothing him with a lullaby. When I open my eyes and look out the window of the airplane, the pilot announces that we’re already flying over Brazilian territory. Later on, we’re about to land in the Guarulhos International  Airport.

My parents and sister are waiting for me. I cry and hug everybody. My heart beats for them, and also for someone who’s so dear to me, and living so far away from here.

As instructed, I go to the American Embassy and hand in all the documents Bob and his brother had provided for me. They ask me for two weeks to process the papers.

Oh, dear! Though a month went so fast, it also felt like an eternity!

Now, with the proper documents from the American Embassy in hand, I’m ready for my new journey back to America.

“Son, you take care of yourself and honor this man, Bob. Send him our love.” Mom, dad, and my sister hug me.

The huge American Airlines plane takes off smoothly and I look at the lovely Guarulhos City lights. I close my eyes and cannot wait to see him again.

The flight is smooth and I doze off. When I least expect, the pilot announces our landing in Portland International Airport.

As I get off the plane, I pass through emigration with all the documents in hand. Soon after, I take the familiar American Airlines ATR 72 plane.

As it flies over Beals Island, my heart beats fast. We approach the ocean, and at last I see the runway. Thud! We’ve landed safely.  

As I get off the plane, my legs and knees are almost giving way. I feel the wind on my face and smell the ocean in the air. I walk towards the airport. I look for my luggage and follow the others towards the exit. The automatic door opens and Bob shouts.

“Carlito! Oh, God! My Carlito! My love!”

“Bob! Oh, Bob!” We hug and kiss. His brother also hugs me.

“Jesus, how can I get a latino boyfriend too?” Jeremy asks.         

“I missed you so much, my Carlito!”

After a bit over one hour on the road, I see the familiar country road. I smile as I see the large sign: KEEP OUT! PRIVATE PROPERTY! Next to another red sign: FOR SALE, and SOLD, in yellow, just overlaping the red sign.       

Later I need to ask Bob the meaning of this new sign. His brother drops us off and helps with my luggage. We hug him and he drives away. I wonder where Bob’s nice truck is.

“At last, you’re back, my love!” He carries my big suitcase to his house. My entire life and all that I own is in this old suitcase.

“Bob, I feel like I’m in the middle of a dream.” He smiles.

“Gosh, I don’t know how I managed to sleep in the past few days! I was so anxious to have you back! I was so scared they would deny you entry or you’d get cold feet and wish to turn your back on me.”

“I’d never do such a thing, dear.” I notice his house is dark, though it’s still morning. I notice a lot of papers on his dining room table. I follow him upstairs and he puts my suitcase on our bed.

“Carlito, I hope you won’t mind, but I’ve got to go back to work. There’s food in the fridge.” He hugs and kisses me on the mouth. “I shall be back by eight P.M.” I nod. We walk downstairs and he takes a helmet. I hear him riding his motorbike and wave.

As I am taking a shower, I think of my family so far away. I think of the hard farewell at the airport, the plane leaving Brazil for good, and smile. I open my eyes and turn off the hot water. I dry in a stained towel and notice a wilting flower in a small vase.

Poor Bob, he forgot to put water in the vase. I open my suitcase and get dressed. The house is still and quiet. I check his large closet and find the space assigned for me. I hang my few clothes I have: pants, shorts, T-shirts, shirts, and two pairs of shoes. I put a small portrait of my family on the night table.

My parents are smiling. Only my youngest sister is on mom’s lap. The rest of us are standing. I then look at Bob’s portrait, and pay attention to his beautiful mother, handsome dad, him, and Jeremy. They were still kids. I also take out a dear photo from my wallet. It is almost crumpling from so many kisses, talks, and prayers recited before it. He kept me company during these thirty days away from him. I stroke the photo and put it on the night table.   

I take a few food items I’ve brought along: Brazilian candies, so that Bob can taste them. I also have my small pink plastic rosary my Aunt Casuko, who is a nun, gave me. “Always trust in the Virgin,” she told me.

Then I put the empty suitcase temporarily under the large bed. I find a piece of paper under it. It’s hard to read, for the paper was crampled. I can make out some values scribbled in pencil. It lists his property and his passenger truck.

I take out my small pocket dictionary. I need to find out what FOR SALE and SOLD mean. I look it up for the word and read the definition. The penny finally drops and I close the dictionary.

Oh, my God! Now I know where he got all the money to pay for my round trip, all the expenses with the emigration, lawyer, and what-nots! Bob has basically sold everything he had to bring me back to America.

No wonder he’s working until late! As soon as he gets back, I need to speak with him about this. I’ll find a job and return him the money. Now that I’m basically an American citizen, I’ll work hard and pay him for every cent he’s spent on me!

He can’t go without his truck! In the fall and winter he won’t be able to get around! And where will we live after he sells his dear old family house?

As I have plenty of time in my hands, I begin to do some work around the house. I start with the kitchen. I scrub, wash, rinse, sweep, wipe, mop, and put everything away. I don’t think his stove and oven have ever got cleaned. Neither has his fridge.

I move to his living room and do a thorough job cleaning up everything. I do the windows and the window sills. I move to both bathrooms and do a thorough cleaning.

I collect a large pile of dirty laundry to do later. Before I stop for lunch, I take his towels, tea towels, wash cloth and underwear and soak them in a concentrated mixture of soap and water. Then I start scrubbing and using the old brush to wash each article thoroughly. His white briefs are all stained. I have a hard time to make them white again. Then I finally rinse and twist. I finish my first batch and carry the large plastic bucket to hang out the laundry. His towels now look spotless. His tea towels are now clean. All his pairs of briefs, ten in all are immaculate.

I leave his pairs of socks soaking in the soapy mixture. Then, I’m tackling the next batch later. I have a small sandwich and drink some milk for lunch. Then I have an apple.

After my lunch, I go back to cleaning this house. Now I tackle the stairs and the upstairs rooms. I dust, wipe, and vacuum. Then I go to our bedroom. I change the bedding and realize that even the clean sheets in the closet are stained.

I sort the sheets, pillow cases, and towels in a pile. I clean the windows, wipe the furniture, sweep the floor and mop. I move to the other rooms and bathrooms. I take a break and have some coffee in the front verandah.

Then, after my short break, I tackle his laundry again. I scrub his socks and wash them thoroughly. I hang them later. I also do the bedding and scrub them hard. Some, which are badly stained, I leave in the large bucket with a concentrated soap mixture. The rest I hang on the line. I just hope it won’t snap with the weight of so much laundry that I did this morning.

Just then, a car pulls on the road. I recognize his brother Jeremy right away.

“Hi, Jeremy, dear!” He shades his eyes.

“Jesus! Look at all my brother’s briefs and socks! Fuck, have you been doing his laundry all morning?”

“A lot of his clothes are stained, Jeremy. By the way, come in. I’ll make you some coffee.”

“Thanks.” He enters the house. “Fuck! What happened to this place?” He takes off his sunglasses. He inspects the furniture, the staircase, the kitchen, the bathrooms, the windows.

“Don’t tell me you did all this by yourself?” I smile and pour the hot water in the filter to brew his coffee.

“Yes, Jeremy. I had nothing to do all morning, anyway.” He smells the air.

“Wow, I can tell this is real coffee!” I hand him his mug.

“Yes, Jeremy. I’ve brought some fresh ground coffee from Brazil.”

“Jesus! This is what real coffee is supposed to taste like!” I offer him some cookies. “This kitchen is spotless! Look at this fridge! And the stove! None of them were ever cleaned before! Bob always wiped them superficially. Nothing like what you’ve done, Carlito!”

“Jeremy, I need to talk to you about something serious.” He eats a cookie and drinks his coffee.

“Yes, Carlito. What is it? You don’t want my sloppy brother anymore and wish to live with me instead? At least my house is cleaner. But not like this one.”

“No, dear. I need to know how much Bob has spent bringing me back to America. He must have spent a fortune in airline tickets and the legal papers to bring me here.” I tell him of the crumpled piece of paper that I found under the bed, and the SOLD sign in front of the house. He drinks his coffee.

“Well, I guess he won’t get mad at me if I told you this. Anyway, about the airline tickets, he didn’t spent much, if at all. I’ve got hundreds and hundreds of air miles and simply used them to get the tickets. You know what air miles are?” I shake my head and he patiently explain that to me.

“So, that takes care of the airline tickets. About the legal papers, well, I work for the police and have many contacts in government bureau. We got everything for almost nothing. The only part that Bob had to work hard was to, well, prove to the government that he could be your sponsor. He had to provide proofs that he had sufficient funds to support you here. So, what he did was something simple. He sold his car and the house to put the money in the bank. You see, as your sponsor, he is legally responsible for you and your living expenses in America. He has to prove to the emigration authorities that he has enough funds for both of you. This amount of money has to remain there for at least three months in the bank. This is how come he’s sold all he owned to get the papers ready for you. As the bank issues monthly reports to him, he hands them to the government authorities. After this period, he will be able to use this money to buy his car and house back again. He had to wreck his brains to find someone willing to do this for him. I couldn’t because I’m close to kin. But we had a friend who was willing to buy his truck, and later, sell it back to him. After much effort, he convinced his old boss to go along with his plan. Mr. Hunter then bought the house and signed all the papers for him. He did all this just in time. After an auditory in his bank account, he was granted permision to be your sponsor, Carlito.”

“Geez, Jeremy! I feel so bad for having being the reason for all this hassle and brain-wrecking experience to you all! I’m sorry, my friend!” He smiles and eats another cookie. 

“That’s all right by me. I’d do anything to make that mother-fucker happy and settled for life.” He checks his time. “Well, I’ve got to go now. I came here to drop off one of my trucks for him. He can drive it for three months until he buys himself back his old truck. I’m not charging that bastard a cent for that, only beers.” He chuckles. He thanks me for the coffee and cookies and drives his truck into the property. He takes his motorbike that was in the trunk and rides it away.

Geez, I cannot imagine how tough it must have been for poor Bob to come up with all these ideas to bring me back to America.

I collect his dry briefs and towels. Some of the sheets are already dry. I manage to scrub and make the remaining laundry spotless and immaculate. I hang them and bring the rest into the house. I look for the iron and find one covered in cobwebs. I hope it still works. I plug that in and surprise, it works! I iron his briefs, towels, shirts, pants, night shirts. I fold everything and put them away. I notice some of his socks have holes in them.

Now, where would I find his sewing stuff, if he has them at all? After checking for a while, I find them. I sit in the front porch and begin darning his socks. I also fix a few holes of a shirt under the armpits. I hear a motobike and it’s Bob.

“Hi, my love!” We kiss. He looks around as if in disbelief.  

“Hi, dear! Guess what? You brother was here again and brought you his truck!” He turns to the vehicle and opens a big smile.

“That son-of-a-bitch kept his word!” He inspects the truck. He opens it and takes the folder with documents and the key. He smiles to me. “I tried to come here earlier, but I was too caught up at work. Anyway, I suppose he’s told you everything, hasn’t he? I know how officers are and I also know that bastard!” I nod.

“He has, Bob! But don’t blame him, dear. I was the one who asked him about everything, dear.” I tell him about the crumpled piece of paper under the bed and the sign in front of his house. “Bob, I don’t know how to thank you for all that you’ve done for me to bring me to America.” We kiss.

“That was the least I could do for you, my love.”    

“Do you have time to have some coffee, dear?” He is looking at the huge amount of laundry left to dry. He looks at the windows and the clean verandah.

“Don’t tell me you’ve done all that on your own?” I smile and kiss him.

“Oh, yes, dear. I had nothing to do in the morning anyway.” I take his hand and enter the house.

“Holy Jesus! Look at this place!” He walks around and laughs. He enters the kitchen and I pour him his coffee and serve him some cookies. “Holy fuck! Even the fridge, stove, cupboards, everything is shining and spotless!” He cannot sit still and walks in the house with his mug of coffee. He climbs the stairs, admiring everything.

As he enters the bedroom, he sees the piles of freshly-ironed clothes on our bed. “Jesus! Look at my briefs! They look like they’ve just came out from the store!” He checks the bathroom. “How can a slim young man like you do all this in one day?”      

“Dear, it wasn’t so difficult. American houses are so easy to clean; the surfaces are smooth and dry easily. Not to mention the strong formula of detergent for the laundry that removes all stains.”

“Listen, my love! I didn’t want you to come here to be a servant, a maid, but my husband, remember?” I smile.

“Of course, dear.” His cell phone rings. He checks the call.

“I’m sorry, Carlito. I must go back to work. They need me there. Did Jeremy tell you about my owning a construction business?” I shake my head.

“No, dear.” He bites his lower lip.

“Well, I suppose he hasn’t had time to tell you everything. So, now I run my own constructing company. My old boss bought this house from me and also kindly offered me to take over his small business that wasn’t doing so well. He basically handed it down to me without charging me much. That means now I have to be on top of everything and run around like crazy. I’m going to earn incredibly more, for I’m taking in projects to build and repair houses.” He takes a cookie and moves to the door.    

“Bob, dear, I don’t want to see you working like crazy just because of me.” He kisses me.

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll be fine and you deserve the best. I’ll see you tonight for supper!” He drives away and disappears on the bend of property.

For the rest of the day I do some work in the yard. To my delight, I find an old abandoned vegetable garden! I clean it and pull out the weeds. I water the remaining plants and smile. I bring a large bucket and pull up some radishes and carrots. I pick up some cucumbers, green onion, parsley, tomatoes, kale, green beans, snow peas! I even find some heads of lettuce too!

What a blessing to have your own vegetable garden! I’ve always wanted to have one to cultivate plants, flowers, and veggies. Now I have one!  

By the time I return to the house, it’s beginning to get dark. Geez, what time is it? It’s seven P.M. already!

I collect the rest of the laundry. I’m glad that even Bob’s jeans dried! I have now two large piles of clothes to iron! I rush to the kitchen and start preparing dinner. I find some potatoes, veal, onion, and the greens I brought from the yard.

In no time, I manage to make a nice vegetable and meat cassarole and mashed potatoes. I also make a salad. At seven forty-five I see the headlights of his truck coming home. I check the meat and it’s basically done! Dinner is ready! I just didn’t have time to shower yet.

“Babe, your Bob is home!” He shouts.

“Welcome home, dear!” He smells the air.

“The house smells incredible, my love!” We kiss.

“It was just something simple that I made. You take a shower and I’ll serve dinner as soon as you you’re done.” He grins and takes my hand.

“I’ve got a better idea, my love.”

In no time, we’re upstairs in the bathroom already stripping. It reminds me of that time I came to his house for the first time. However, this time I feel ready and know this man well.

No sooner have we stripped, we begin kissing. I feel his strong warm hairy arms around me. I feel his broad shoulders, hairy back, furry barrel-chest, belly and hard cock. His tongue invades my mouth.

“Bob, I love you!” He smiles and looks into my eyes.

“Babe, I’ve waited so long for this moment! I love you too, Carlito!” He smiles. “Now, let daddy teach you a few tricks.” He smiles.

“All right, daddy.”

“On your knees, babe! Have you ever sucked a cock before?” I shake my head. “Fuck! How lucky I am to get you, my angel!” He stands in front of me, his feet planted wide apart. He folds his arms behind his waist. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, babe.” 

“But I want to do that for you, dear!”

“All right. But if you don’t like it, you can stop anytime, all right, my love? Don’t forget I’m Bob, you husband and won’t do a thing to hurt you.” I nod. “All right, now, all you’ve got to do is lick the tip of my cock. See it’s already oozing pre-cum. Yes, babe. Take it with you delicate hands. Don’t worry, it won’t break. Yeah, oh fuck! This feels amazing! Yeah, lick the mushroom head like a cat would do. Yeah, lick around the edges. And don’t worry, precum is not poison and won’t kill you. At least I haven’t heard of anybody dying from eating it. Fuck! Oh, yeah! Now, you can put it in your mouth. Just watch for your teeth, babe. You don’t want to hurt you daddy’s cock. Yeah, careful and, ohhh! Deeper. Try not to take in too much cock at once! Otherwise you’ll gag. Breathe calmly as you suck and use pressure. Yeah, grab my nuts. They’re big, I know. Yeah, pull them. You can also lick my big balls if you want. Fuck! Fuck! This feels amazing! I haven’t had someone blow my cock in a long long time!” He moans and gasps as I suck his cock.

“Oh, yeah! Don’t stop now, babe! Keep on sucking! Fuck! Fuck! Oh, FUUUCK!” He cries as his cock spurts jets after jets of hot semen! I don’t know what to do with it. “You can drink it, babe! Or you can spit it out if you don’t like the taste.” In doubt, I drink some and the rest, I cup in my hand. The problem is that his cock doesn’t stop spurting his hot semen. Then I decide to drink everything and lick his cock clean.

“Bob, did I do everything correctly?” Instead of answering me, he pulls me to himself and tongue-kisses me.

“I love to lick my own hot cream from your mouth, my sweet boy!” We kiss and I feel his large hairy and callused hand taking my hard cock. He looks into my eyes and smiles.

“Can big daddy have your cum too, babe?”

“I-I guess so, daddy. I’m sort of nervous and don’t know what to do. To be honest, this is my first time, Bob.” He kneels down and begins to suck my cock. I close my eyes and feel his thick lips and big tongue. He wraps his huge hands around my buttocks.

“Fuck! You’re an angel! Your fucking smooth body is so fresh, young, and pure!” Try as he might, I end up losing my erection. He stands up and smiles and kisses me.

“I-I’m sorry, Bob. I guess I’m too nervous right now.” He smiles.

“Chill, my boy! Daddy is ok with that.”

He turns on the water and we shower. He hands me the shampoo bottle and I wash his hair for him. I feel his scalp and gently wash his hair. Then he rinses and we kiss. I take the pink soap bar and I rub his muscular hairy body. He moans as I rub the sponge all over his broad back.

“That is just amazing, Carlito. You have such gentle hands.” He moans. I soap his buttocks, pubic hair, muscular legs, and big feet. I scrub his hairy firm buttocks. He tells me to wash his crack. I soap it and wash it. The I move to his forest of pubic hair.

“Take my junk, Carlito. Wash the glans and my balls well.” He moans as I take his big genitals. I scrub his hairy muscular and solid legs, knees, round solid calves, tough shins, and big feet. His toe nails are long and needs trimming. I shall do them some other time. Then he rinses his body. 

“Now, it’s my turn to wash your hair, my boy.” He smiles and pours shampoo on his big cupped hand. “Oh, boy, you’re a child!” He massages my scalp and hugs my wet slippery body. “A child from heaven! An angel!” He rinses my hair and we kiss. “I’m so fortunate to have found a real gem, a diamond!” I smile.

“You sound so poetical, Bob.” He embraces and kisses my head.

“That’s because daddy is happy, Carlito.” Then he takes the soap bar and sponge in hand. He washes my body. Then, he rinses me and runs his lips over my neck, back, chest, and moans in ecstasy.

“Now, I want you to feel my body. Yeah, run your hands around my neck, my chest, armpits, back, buttocks, dick, nuts, thighs. You can go lower if you want. Now, my boy, look into my eyes. With your gentle hand, take my big cock, feel how hard it is right now. See how you make your Bob’s dick hard?” He smiles and I smile too. “Let me take yours too, my boy.” He takes my hard cock and thrusts it gently. “Oh, I see that you’re hard again. Now, babe, what daddy wants you to do is, we’re going to thrust each other’s cocks simultaneously. I’ll thrust your cock with my hand, and you’re going to thrust mine with yours. Can you do that? Use both hands if you need to.” He looks into my eyes and smiles. He kisses me and moans. He grunts and whispers some obcenities in my ear. I thrust his cock while he is thrusting mine. Suddenly, I feel a strong feeling and the burning lust I have for this powerful big man just erupts without my expecting it. It gushes out and I moan. His eyes widen and he rolls them. He gasps and moans loudly. I moan too and feel his large hand thrusting my cock.

“Bob! Oh, Bob! I love you! YESSS!” I cum!

“FUUUCK! AHHH! YESSS!” He shouts and tongue-kisses me. He takes me in his arms and strokes my wet hair. “Daddy is quite proud of his boy! I’m so proud of you, my love!” We kiss. “I’m feeling exhausted now, but I’m feeling at the top of the world, my love!”

We rinse again and he cleans my cock, pulling back my foreskin. He says he wishes he also had his foreskin around the head of his big cock.

Then we come out and dry each other. He puts on his white cotton briefs. He says he likes to wear his briefs around the house. I put on my shorts and white T-shirt.

“Our first dinner together, my love!” He lights a small candle. I bring the vase with some flowers that I’ve picked earlier from the forgotten garden. He smiles and asks me to say grace. My eyes light up and I say grace and thank God for everything.

“You’re the only one who can make me pray and eat salad, my love.” He eats it and likes my dressing.

“Bob, dear! I can’t believe you have this land and the yard with the vegetable garden!” He smiles and takes my hand.

“This land, house, truck, everything is yours too, my love. In time, I’m going to see that we’re properly married. How do you like that?” We smile.

“That would be fantastic, Bob!” We finish our salad and I bring the veal and vegetable cassarole. He helps himself to the mashed potatoes and veal.

“Wonderful! What a delicious dinner you’ve prepared for us, babe!”

“I’m glad you liked it, dear.”       

“Tomorrow is Saturday. I’ll find some time and take you out to a big supermarket, a clothing store, and my own little office. It’s small and messy. But it’s my own business, and I feel proud of it. What do you say?”

“I-I can’t believe it, Bob! In the past, we only went to a hidden grocery store and at night. We were afraid of being caught and deported. I can’t believe this is going to happen! You’re taking me to an open public place during the day!” I have tears in my eyes.

“This is our new life, Carlito. And believe me, your Bob here is the one who’s getting the better end of the deal. For you’re a real angel, my love, quite rare to find.”

“I’m no angel, Bob. I’m just Carlos. And I feel eternally grateful for everything you’ve done for me. You’re a very special and noble man who keeps his word. I’m so lucky to be your lover, friend, and partner!”

We finish dinner and he helps me clear the table and do the dishes. As both of us had a long tiring day, we retire to our bedroom.

Bob says he’s sleeping in his briefs. I sleep in my shorts and sleeveless shirt. We lie in bed and I rest my head on his strong furry chest. He puts his arm around me.

“Good night, my angel, and welcome to your new home.”

“Good night, big daddy! And may the angels watch over our sleep and protect us, always.”

“Amem!” And he shuts off the lights. 

Devin went home with a sore butt and a sore butthole. Peter’s message really sink in. Young Devin is new to the world of work, and having been used to doing whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, he learned the hard way that just isn’t the case in corporate America. He knew he’d fucked up, and he was unsure if this job was the right fit for him.

As the hours went by, Devin wasn’t ready to make any tough decisions just yet. He needed more time. It was nearing his 8pm showtime. His ass still bright red and some lasting welt marks, he knew he couldn’t just show up tonight without explanation. 

Once Devin turns on the lights and the camera, he’s always ready for action. Stripped naked, completely hairless but the hair in his head and under his armpits, he sat on his desk chair and slowly stroked his cock into the camera. Other than moaning in self-pleasure, Devin never really spoke into the camera before. His body had always been enough to attract a good-sized audience. 

He began to recognize some familiar screen names, Peter, Mr. Longwood. Axel, and even Hugo were online already. Devin nervously moved the camera from his cock to his face.

”Good evening, gentlemen. I want to thank each and every one of you for supporting me. I’ve really enjoyed performing for you as much as you have enjoyed watching me perform. Tonight, I need to confess something to all of you. I’ve recently taken a new corporate position. I was a very naughty boy, and I was caught taking a huge dick up my ass in the men’s room earlier today. Instead of firing me, or writing me up, another form of punishment was administered. It’s probably best if I show you.”

With that, Devin slowly turned around in his chair, got onto his knees his torso to the back of the chair, and he displayed his bruised butt for all those men to see.  He reached back and rubbed his sore ass.

He spoke louder now because his face was opposite the mic, “yes, I have a sore ass. I was bent over management’s desk and belted until I learned my lesson. I bet many of you wish it was you that was there doing this to me. Maybe it was one of you?”

Devin was feeling cheeky tonight, and knew that Peter would enjoy the attempt at the shout out. He went even further, and began to show off his puffy pucker, “and that’s not all, this hole toon a huge dick afterwards as part two of the punishment. This hole fucked by a big thick dick, and guess what fellas, (sticking his finger deep inside, some semen began to drip out),  I’m still carrying his load in me all day. 

Then he turned back around, moved the camera back onto his dick and with his eyes closed, fixated on the feeling of being fucked stupid, he fired off a series of cum shots from his dick right onto his chest! He’d not cum so hard in weeks. 

After his show, his phone buzzed like crazy. He was so surprised to see it was Axel calling. 

“What’s up, bud?”, Devin answered. 

“Holy fuck. That was hot! Steven and I were watching in bed together. We’re both hard as fuck. Would you consider coming over? We both have fantasized about fucking you together. We’ve never shared a hole before and would be honored if you’d let us do it with you.”

Devin said, “Well, we wouldn’t be fucking around on company time. Even though I just came a few minutes ago, I’ve seen Steven’s pictures on your desk. I’d be down to fuck around with the two of you.”

Axel sent Devin his address and Devin hurried over. 

Axel lived in a condo a few miles away. When he parked and walked up to the ground floor unit, Axel answered the door in a loose fitting pair of shorts, his cock hard, shirtless. “Come in. Steven is still hard and in bed!”

Axel walked behind Devin down the hall into the bedroom. Steven was propped up by a pillow, his blonde hair and blue eyes captured Devin’s attention. He screamed of twinkiness, rather thin, smooth just like himself, but surprisingly well hung! Given Axel was all top, Steven, who was versatile, didn’t get to fuck ass often. 

Devin stripped at the side of the bed and got between Steven’s legs and took that hard dick straight down his mouth until Steven’s smooth balls were against his chin. Steven shaved his pubic bush completely, accentuating his shaft length even more. 

While nursing on Steven’s dick, Axel wasted no time and began to shove his face right into Devin’s crack. Devin hadn’t been rimmed many times before as gay sex was still somewhat new to him having still been a virgin until 3 days ago. He moaned over Steven’s cock, the vibrations  caused that cock to spew out little droplets of precum. 

Steven reached over to the nightstand next to the bed and pulled out a brown bottle. Devin was so busy sucking cock, he only heard the sounds of something being inhaled but didn’t realize what was happening until Steven offered him the bottle. Unsure of what to do, Steven did it for him. He held the bottle up to each nostril and told Devin to take some deep inhales.

Devin’s body tingled, his head throbbed a little but his body began to feel so good, as the rush passed through him, he began to suck Steven with more fervor and he felt Axel’s tongue deeper in his relaxed asshole. A hunger like no other came over him.

This time he grabbed the bottle himself, took a couple of hits and said, “I need this dick inside me now! I have to have it!” Steven’s dick was so wet Devin sat up and mounted it, sinking his craving hole down all the way, relieving the need to be stuffed. They both shouted, “ohhh fuck yeah!” as Steven raised his hands up over his head and watched Devin pleasure himself with his cock, bouncing up and down.  Axel stood over them, his cock right in front of Devin’s mouth. 

Axel grabbed the little brown bottle this time and after taking some hits himself, the bottle was passed down to Devin, who then passed it to Steven. Devin was out of control now. “Come on man, give me both those dicks. Fucking fill my fucking hole!”

Steven pushed Devin down so their chests were flush against each other. Axel poked his cock in from behind, once he found just the right place, his cock popped right inside. “Oohhhh my! Holy fuck!! Wow! Oh fuck!!!” Devin was shouting out uncontrollably. 

“Is this what you wanted? Sharing my fucking hole! Come on, show me what you got!”, the usually calm voiced Devin demanded. 

Axel responded in kind, “fuck yeah! This is what we fantasized about all fucking week. And now we’re doing it for real. Feel both those big dicks stretching out your hole? I can feel Peter’s load in there you faggot whore!”

Steven pulled Devin’s lips to his and they made out while he stayed hard and was the perfect anchor dick for this. Axel fucked him so hard but it felt too good. He wasn’t gonna last long. It was a dream cum true to share an ass with his boyfriend. All the poppers and that hole felt too good. Axel began to shout out, “I’m blowing my nut right inside that ass! Take my load fucker! Fuck yeah, feel me pumping that load in you! Feel our cocks I there! Oh fuck man, you’re a natural. The way you take dick, you were born to take dick not be some corporate asshole!”

Devin was lost in the moment to let those words resonate at the moment. When Axel’s softening cock fell out of his hole, Steven wanted to fuck that load deep inside him. He pushed Devin onto his back, Axel pulled Devin’s legs back and spread out those cheeks so Steven could fuck him deep. Devin cradled Axel’s cummy cock into his mouth and rubbed it all over his face as Steven’s hips pistoned, the sounds of a wet pussy not unnoticed, “oh fuck man, my cock loves this wet cummy hole. Fuck, I’m gonna blow my load right into that cunt! Fuck! Fuck! Awwwww fuck!!! Awwwwwww!”

Steven shoots big loads. When his cock pulled out Devin’s taint was covered with wet cum.  It was his turn to blow now. With Axel and Steven beside him, each toon a nipple in their mouths and gently bit them while Devin jacked himself off, his load flying in all directions and splattering everywhere!

After coming down from the poppers high and their orgasms, Devin began to dress and he asked Axel, “Do you really think I should quit? Do you think I’m better at taking dick than accounting?”

”Listen Devin, I only said that in the heat of the moment. But I do think you have a special talent. The camera loves you. Men of all ages love you. Accounting will always be here, your youth…that hot ass, that cute face, you could make a terrific living with that while you can. That’s all I’m saying.”

They kissed goodnight and Devin left their condo unsure of what was next. If only there was a sign…

Wilson shook his ass and made his phat cheeks clap for the camera, losing track of time as he saw the view count of the livestream go up as more and more money rained into his bank account. It wasn’t until the stall door to the handicap stall was kicked open and his burly boss Bryan was yelling his ear off that he realize he had been in the bathroom for an entire hour. 

“Shit!” Wilson mumbled under his breath. 

“Oh shit is right, you fucking dumbass! Where have you been? Miss O’Conner is out there waiting for you to help with…the….” Bryan trailed off when he noticed what Wilson was doing. 

“What the fuck is this?” 

Wilson tried to come up with an excuse, but his mouth wasn’t working and all that came out was a garbled, jumbled mess of sentences. 

“Save it! I can’t believe this is what you’re doing on company time—this is COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE! You’re—!”

Wilson cut off his supervisor before he could utter those dreadful words. 

He had already been fired from so many jobs that this was the last one that would take him, especially with his piss poor credit score. He was also so behind on rent, he was about to be evicted if he hadn’t let his old creepy landlord jerk off to his twerking ass one night. He can still remember the 60 year old weakly jizzing all over his phat black dumpy. It was gross but also exhilarating, his dick was so fucking hard that he came within seconds of getting back to his condo. 

“Wait!” 

Bryan’s eyebrow rose in interest, “What?” 

“Maybe we can work something out…” 

Wilson tried to continue speaking but couldn’t get the words out. Was he really going to offer his ass up to Bryan, his dickhead boss and a family man of one. Eventually he decided to go for broke, because he really didn’t want to bribe his landlord again, who he suspected wanted to fuck his hole next and he wasn’t about to do that. 

“I’m waiting!” 

Wilson sighed, “I’ll let you play with my ass okay?” 

“What the fuck are you talking about, you sick perv!?” 

“I know you like big butts, I see you staring at my ass on occasion when I reach up to the top shelf, because my ass jiggles like Jello when I drop back down. And I also caught you licking your lips when I bent over in front of you that one time. I know you like this big ass, boy.” 

Bryan gulped loudly, the front of his pants getting very tight as his dick sprung to life. 

“Fine, but I’m spanking that wobbling wagon of yours.” 

“Cool, just let me turn this off real quick.” 

Bryan rushed forward and snatched the phone out of Wilson’s reach. 

“This is how this is going to go slut. I’m going to record all of this and you’re going to let me smack those big meaty cheeks of yours like a good fag okay?” Bryan got real close, their lips were almost touching. 

Wilson silently nodded his head in defeat at the submissive position he was in. 

SMACK

Bryan harshly swatted at Wilson’s behind, already leaving behind a warm red hand print. 

“And that’s for calling me ‘boy’! You fucking cockslut!” 

“Now lean against the wall, ASS OUT!” Bryan loudly ordered. 

Wilson assumed the position, sticking his ass straight out for Bryan. 

Bryan didn’t waste time, grabbing a handful of Wilson’s ass and sliding some thick fingers in between the dual globes of fat there. Wilson let out a low moan when Bryan’s fingertips glided over his hole, before doubling back and tapping on his tight puck. 

“Fuck…daddy.” Bryan paused for a second at hearing that come out of Wilson’s mouth and then let loose on his employee’s ass. 

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK

“Say it louder bitch!” Bryan ordered while taking a break to quickly unbuckle his belt and unzip the fly of his dirty blue jeans. 

“Daddy! Oh fuck Daddy! Punish my naughty little ass!” Wilson knew what Bryan liked, because he was like most of other guys that he played around with. Turning on the charm and act of being a slutty cock-addicted slut. 

Wilson even thought that he could probably milk some money of the man too, seeing as he was the son of the store’s owner. 

“Louder bitch!” 

SMACK SMACK SMACK

Bryan pushed his pants down around his ankles and slapped his precum wet cock against Wilson’s red hot buns. Making sure to smack his cock against the left cheek then the right, before letting it slide into Wilson’s deep ass crack so his naughty employee could feel it throb there. 

“FUCK ME HARD DADDY!!!” Wilson yelled at the top of his lungs, knowing that someone could definitely hear him. 

Bryan growled deep and thrusted only three inches into Wilson’s tight hole, using some of his precum to lube his thick but short cock. Wilson grunted in pain and pleasure, feeling himself get stretched real good.

“FUCK DADDY OPEN ME UP GOOD WITH THAT THICK DADDY DICK! FUCK!!!” 

Bryan slapped Wilson’s ass again, grabbing some of Wilson’s shirt as he pushed further into the tight wet warmth surrounding his dick. It felt so fucking good, especially since he hadn’t gotten any pussy for a while. His wife was pregnant again although he had suspicions that it wasn’t even his kid and she was never in the mood, just bitchy and hormonal. It was a total drag. Bryan was so close to getting head from the twinky teen next door, because of the major case of blue balls he had for weeks. So as he entered Wilson’s willing, submitting pussy—he fucked it like a animal needing to breed. 

Thrusting quickly and hard, his full balls smacking against Wilson’s ass echoed off of the walls. 

“Fucking take it like a good little fag! You big butt bitch!” Bryan muttered, letting all of his sexual frustration out on Wilson’s ass. 

“Twerking so obscenely during work hours, you naughty cunt! If you needed some dick you could’ve just asked…fuck! Would’ve given you this dick whenever you needed it!” 

Wilson had to admit that Bryan’s dick felt good, not the biggest he had ever taken but not the smallest. Definitely the thickest so far though. 

“Daddy, cum in me please! I need that cum in me deep. Fucking creampie in my ass, impregnate me daddy!” Wilson moaned, his own dick leaking all over the inside of his silk briefs. They would definitely need a wash after this.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK 

Bryan slapped Wilson’s ass four more times as he neared his climax, even thrusting even harder into Wilson’s hole trying his best to reach the slut’s prostate but went over the edge before he could. 

“TAKE IT ALL BITCH!” Bryan roared as his blue ball problem finally ended as he fired numerous loads deep into Wilson’s well-used cunt. His ass creaming around Bryan’s throbbing, pulsating cock. 

“Fuck…” Wilson groaned as Bryan’s rapidly softening dick slipped out. 

Both were breathing hard, Bryan leaning against the stall partition trying to control himself. His eyes were closed then he felt a familiar but different warmth around his semi-hard cock. 

He opened them and glanced down to see Wilson gently licking and sucking all of the cum and pussy juices from his dick. 

“Such a fucking slut.” Bryan chuckled with a slight tired grin. He ran his hand through Wilson’s hair before stopping the livestream as Wilson finished cleaning his dick and went to give Bryan a good ball wash. 

Bryan jumped a little, feeling his dick throb back to life when Wilson teased his tongue over Bryan’s sweaty hairy taint. 

Eventually, Wilson finished up and started to get dressed as Bryan did the same, but before either left Bryan whispered something to Wilson and walked out feeling very light on his feet. 

Over the next few days, Bryan would meet up with Wilson for a quick fuck and suck as a way to alleviate the consistent pressure of cum in his balls, while Wilson got promoted and became a star employee at the store. Of course, anyone that heard Wilson’s screams from the bathroom knew how a terrible employee like him soared through the ranks so quickly like that. 

---

Hope everyone enjoyed this short story, I wrote it within a day and decided to not edit much of it, so there’s probably going to be some mistakes here and there. But still, hope it was good enough to get your rocks off. Leave any comments or constructive criticism below, they are greatly appreciated! I am still working on new Adam’s Troubles stories, Super Jock Sluts, and a second part for Rude Houseguest, so those will be coming out soon! Stay tuned! 

Round Two in Daddy Arbitrator’s Hotel Room

Round One in the bank, Bart Williams slid off the bed.  He saw his yellow briefs pointing outward.  He reached inside his pouch and adjusted his thick 8″ cock.  He felt wetness and knew he was leaking pre-cum.  He put his fingers to his lips and tasted the salty cream.  Jay Pritchard was one hot piece of ass.  An ass Williams wanted to own.

The arbitrator went over to the hotel room fridge and pulled out two plastic bottles of water.  Throwing one to Jay on the bed, he said “Drink up boy.  One more fall and you get fucked into my headboard with,” he paused with a grin, “my smoking gun.”  The chairman snorted at his own joke and took a big swig of water.  He looked down at his sweaty smooth chest and six-pack.  

Jay opened the water bottle and downed a few gulps.  He hadn’t expected to be dominated by the older alpha—especially given his height and weight advantages.  But he had often seen smaller wrestlers control larger ones.  He looked at his jock pouch and saw a wet spot.  Evidently, his cock enjoyed the older alpha’s display of dominance.  Pritchard knew he needed to regain his swagger.  He was determined not to become a bitch boy for the older alpha male.

The arbitrator turned back to the fridge to store his water bottle.  The younger lawyer saw his opening.  He leaped off the bed and wrapped his right bicep around Bart’s neck.  “Aaaagggghhhh!” grunted the chairman in surprise.  Jay ground his jock-covered hard cock into the older man’s crack as he applied his choke hold.  “Like that Bart, my big dick near your hole?” taunted the younger lawyer.  Using his 6’4” muscled frame, the blonde-haired alpha male yanked Williams backwards to the bed.  The silver-haired arbitrator tried to pry Jay’s bicep from his throat.  He was beginning to feel dizzy.  Fuck, the cocky alpha male was trying to sleeper him.  But not quite.  Jay loosened his hold and transitioned to a reverse bearhug, wrapping his arms around Bart’s mid-section and squeezing tight.  “Uuugggghhhhhh!” groaned the chairman as he gasped for air.  Jay lifted Bart off his feet and flung his body onto the bed where he rolled onto his back.

The cocky alpha followed and jumped onto Bart’s 46” chest pinning the arbitrator’s shoulders with his knees.  Bart looked up helplessly at the white jock pouch.  Jay was hard as a rock.  His mushroom head protruded from his waistband.  The younger lawyer cupped the back of Bart’s head and smashed his face into the sweaty bulge.  “How’s that smell, Bart?” sneered Pritchard.  The chairman inhaled the manly scent.  His 8” cock was so hard his cock head also peeked above the waistband of his yellow briefs.  Jay reached back with his free hand and dug inside the yellow briefs until he had the arbitrator’s big balls in his hands.  He clawed into them and twisted hard.  Bart gave a muffled shriek into Jay’s package as he was manhandled.

Jay finally relented for a moment.  He released Bart’s balls and let his head fall back to the bed.  He then pulled down the front of his jock pouch and hooked it under his balls.  Bart could only stare upwards at the thick 7.5” cut cock.  A pearl of pre-cum appeared on Jay’s slit.  The younger lawyer snorted.  He grabbed his shaft with his right hand and bitch slapped the arbitrator’s face with the head of his cock smearing his pre-cum on the older male’s face.  Bart could feel his own pre-cum pooling in the ridges of his lower abs.  Jay then pressed the head of his cock into Bart’s lips.  “Want a real alpha’s cock, bitch?” he said.  The chairman’s eyes rolled back.  Full of lust, he did want the cock in his mouth and throat.  He began to open his lips but Jay, laughing, pulled his dick away.  “Nothing but a slutty whore, Mr. Chairman?” he smirked.

The younger lawyer reached back and grabbed both of Bart’s 33” quads.  He raised them and rolled the older alpha over into a tight ball.  “Aaaarrrgggghhh!” cried the chairman.  He could make out Jay’s hard cock looming above his face.  A few drops of pre-cum hit his nose.  He was pinned tightly.  He saw no way out of Jay’s dominant hold.  “I giveeeeeeeee!” he screamed.  Jay snorted “Not accepted bitch.”  “Pleaseeeeeeeee!  I submit!  I submit!” came the desperate cry.  “Such a pussy jobber!” Pritchard exclaimed and let go of the hold. 

As the chairman’s legs fell to the bed, Jay still sat on his chest with a satisfied grin.  He slowly stuffed his thick dick back into his white jock strap.  Seeing his pre-cum on Bart’s nose, Jay dragged a finger across the jizz then fed it to the arbitrator.  With a pleading look, Bart’s tongue licked the younger male’s finger clean.

(To be continued.)

I woke up from a nap and looked at the clock and it was 9:30 pm, I wouldn’t normally nap so late in the evening, but I was so tired after doing my homework, and I knew I planned to be up pretty late. I felt refreshed from the nap, so I decided to do my workout routine, which was push-ups, sit-ups, and arm and leg exercises with weights.

Now it was about 10:15, and I started to have butterflies in my stomach. I went ahead and showered, I so wanted to jerk off in the shower, but I knew I shouldn’t, so I didn’t. I dried off, and was looking at myself in the mirror, wishing I was more muscular, I’m 5’10” and weigh 135, I do have some muscle tone, but overall just a skinny guy.

I put on my running shorts and a t-shirt and decided to review some of my school work even though I couldn’t concentrate on it, but I’d have time in the morning too since my first class at the community college wasn’t until 11 am.

I went ahead and got online to see who else was on to chat with, and I had plans to chat with this one guy I’ve been chatting with for the last couple of weeks. Ryan messaged hello and we chatted a bit, he asked me if I went for a run tonight, and I said not yet but that I was going to in a bit.

He was surprised I was going so late, but I often did, it’s nice to have the high school right near my house so I could run the track even if it was late at night. Ryan said he was getting ready to go to bed since he had to be up early, so we said goodnight to each other.

Alan popped online at 11:30 just as he said he would, so I sent him a message saying hello Sir. Alan said, hello boy, are you ready for your midnight run tonight? I said yes Sir, I have my running shorts on, a t-shirt, and my socks and running shoes are right here to put on.

Alan then went over my instructions for my midnight run, and he asked me when I jerked off last, and I told him yesterday as he told me I couldn’t at all today. It was 11:45, and Alan said he was logging off, and that he would see me in a little bit.

I put my socks and running shoes on, drank a little bit of water, and took off jogging for the high school, it was only ½ mile away. I got to the tennis court gate, took my shirt off, and hung it on the gate as Alan told me. I went down the steps to the track and started my midnight jog.

I was on my 4th lap, and my t-shirt was still on the gate, but then when I rounded the 5th lap, I saw that my t-shirt was gone, so I went up the steps to the gate, and took my running shorts off and put them on the gate like I had been instructed.

I went back down to the track, running with just my running shoes on. I rounded the first lap and my shorts were still on the gate, I was just hoping no one else would have the idea to run the track since I was naked, but I’ve only ever seen one other person run the track late at night before.

I rounded my second lap, and I saw that my shorts were gone, so I went up the steps, and went to the gate, then went back to the tennis courts as instructed. I was at the back of the courts, facing the fence that faced the woods, I was standing there for what seemed like 10 minutes.

I heard footsteps, but I didn’t turn around as instructed, the footsteps were getting louder as they were getting closer, and at this point, I was feeling pretty nervous. The footsteps stopped, I’m still standing there facing the fence and he tells me to put my hands behind my back, so I do as he said.

He ties my hands behind my back, then I felt something go over my head, it smelled like my soap and deodorant, so I figured it was my t-shirt. My t-shirt was tied around my head to blindfold me, he had it secured on my head so I couldn’t see anything, and he told me to turn around so that my back was against the fence.

I turned around as he said, and then he told me to get on my knees, so I did. I’m there on my knees, naked, just wearing my running shoes, hands tied behind my back. He then tells me that I will have to earn my shorts and shirt back, otherwise, I’d have to jog back home naked.

I hear him undo his belt, and pull his zipper down, and then I hear him lower his pants. The next thing I know I feel his dick on my lips, so I open my mouth and feel his dick go into my mouth. I start to suck on his cock, but he tells me to stop, so I stop, but his dick is still in my mouth.

He tells me to close my mouth but to not suck on his cock. He told me he had to piss, and that he wanted me to drink his piss. I felt just a little piss come out, and it was warm, then all of the sudden his piss really starts to flow, and I swallow it as fast as I can, surprisingly it was not that bad, pretty much tasted like warm water with bitterness to it.

I manage to swallow most of his piss, what I couldn’t get down leaked down my neck and smooth chest. His piss had stopped, so now he told me to start sucking his cock. I sucked his cock, and it was getting bigger and bigger, I could taste some precum too, his dick wasn’t huge but it wasn’t small either, a couple of times his cock touched the back of my throat and made me gag a little.

I was sucking on him for just a couple of minutes, but then I felt his cum exploding in my mouth, I swallowed some but then he pulled his cock out and shot the rest all over my smooth chest. I’m still on my knees, hands cuffed behind my back and still blindfolded, he tells me to stand up. I told him I was going to have to piss soon, and he told me not to yet.

He told me to stand with my back against the fence, and then he tied my cuffed hands to the fence. He told me that I did good and that I earned my shorts and shirt back, but that he wasn’t done with me yet. He then tied my ankles to the fence, I told him again I really had to piss, but he told me not to.

He started fondling my cock, and it started to get a little hard, but I had to piss so bad now, I was a little embarrassed because even though I was getting hard, I was still pretty small since I had a smaller cock.

I asked him if I could please piss, and he said not yet, he then untied my t-shirt from my head, so this is the first time I’ve seen Alan even though we have been chatting for almost a month. For an older guy, 48, he was in pretty good shape, I’d say he was about 6’ tall and 185 pounds.

He put my t-shirt on the ground in front of me, and then put my running shorts with my t-shirt, then he told me I could piss, and I really couldn’t hold it any longer so I let it start streaming out, and since I was still bound to the fence I couldn’t keep my piss from soaking my shirt and shorts. So I earned my clothes back, but they were soaked in my piss.

He then started stroking my cock again, and I got hard quickly, and I tend to cum very quickly too, to the point that it embarrasses me. He’s stroking my cock like crazy, and I’m breathing hard and trying to hold off cumming, but my cum shoots out, I cum a huge load and I’m so sensitive after cumming, but he keeps on stroking my cock I can hardly catch my breath.

He finally stops, and my cock is oozing cum. He unties my hands, and without a word walks away. I untie my ankles from the fence, and I wring the piss out of my shorts, luckily my running shorts are nylon, so they aren’t too gross to wear home for my jog home, I chose to leave my t-shirt behind. I’m so tired from the night that I just walk home instead of jogging. 

51

You bought a building?

I opened my eyes with difficulty.  The lids stuck together.  I wanted to rub them, but my arms wouldn’t do as they were told, so I settled for blinking several times.  I tried to look around, but my head wouldn’t move any more than my arms.  My whole body felt like it was trapped in wet cement.

The little bit of the room that I could see without turning my head, told me that I was flat on my back in a windowless, plain white room, with plain white furniture, and a light panel ceiling.  I was struck with a crazy fear that the adventure had reset, like a time loop in a science fiction movie.  I worried that I was waking up on Solum for the first time.

I couldn’t feel Shawn and wondered where he was.  I wondered where I was and why my body wouldn’t do what I wanted it to.  ‘Maybe a waking dream.’ I thought.  The last thing I remembered was Shawn’s worried face and David Bowie singing ‘Heroes.’

I heard the sound of a door outside of my field of vision as it opened and shut.  Someone entered the room I was in.  The person was humming snatches of unfamiliar music as they made the sounds of doing something routine.  Whoever it was sang a few words here and there between the humming.  The voice was very big and very deep, a full-throated bass voice.

The body that owned the voice appeared in front of me.  It was a man with a wide, friendly face, thick black hair brushed straight back, brown eyes with flecks of gold in them, rich olive skin, and a lean, sinewy build.  He wore light green hospital scrubs.  He lifted a glass tablet from somewhere next to me and scrolled through it.  I tried to speak, but my voice cooperated about as well as the rest of me did.  After a great effort, I managed a gargled hiss.

The brown eyes with the gold flecks in them shot passed the edge of the tablet to lock onto mine.  The man lowered the tablet from his face and smiled.  His features were medium-heavy, appropriate for his wide face.  His lips were full, his smile warm and genuine.

“Welcome back, Mister Incolumitas.  This is the Doctrina University Hospital in Epistylium.  I am Doctor Altrix.  Don’t try to move or speak.  Your body is restrained and there is a breathing tube in your throat.  You have been in a coma and on life support for eleven days.  It seems you used too much magic.  Your body consumed all of your fat, most of your voluntary muscle mass, and more than half of your bone density.  When you were brought in, you weighed less than one-hundred pounds.  We’ve been waiting for you to regain consciousness before starting the rebuilding process.”

The man’s face became grave.  He took a heavy breath like he was going to give me some bad news.  “Full disclosure, Mister Incolumitas, the process, especially the bone reconstruction, will be very painful.  For that, I am sorry.  The muscle regeneration has its own challenges.  We can give you back your mass, but not your strength.  You will have to work to redevelop your physical power.”

The man clapped his hands once and rubbed his palms against each other like he was preparing to undertake a physical task.  “Now that you are awake, we can get started.  I plan to keep you on life support for another twenty-four hours to make certain your body can maintain itself.  If everything goes well, we’ll take you off the systems by this time tomorrow.  Then you will at least be able to communicate.  Do you understand everything I’ve told you?  Blink once for yes and twice for no.”

I had about a million questions, but I couldn’t ask them with blinks.  I blinked once to answer the question he’d asked.

“Are you in any pain?”

I blinked twice.

“That’s good.”  The man…the doctor, seemed pleased.  “You have some very dedicated friends Mister Incolumitas.  At least one of them has been keeping vigil here since you arrived.  The Steward’s nephew has been particularly concerned for your well-being.  Wait right there.  I’ll see who is here now.” He tucked the tablet under his arm and strode away.

‘Wait right there, he says.’ I thought with a mental huff. ‘Where the fuck could I go?’

A second later Bem burst into the room.  “BIG GUY!” He shouted.  He leaned over, his face in mine. “We were so worried.”

I tried to speak again before I remembered that I couldn’t.  Bem placed his index finger against his pursed lips.  “Don’t.  Let me talk.  I’m so happy you’re awake.  Shawn will be thrilled.  You didn’t miss him by much.  He’s been practically living here.  Neb had to order him to go home and rest.  She drove him.  He…uh,” Bem’s voice grew soft and thoughtful, “he loves you…like a lot.”

Bem leaned back to think.  “Let me see, what else?  Oh!  A team from The HALL got back from the mountain yesterday, or maybe the day before, it’s been hard to keep track.  They agree we did our jobs.  The ‘ancient evil’” Bem said using air quotes around the words, “has been defeated and all the magic is back.  The Steward authorized the first payment to us.  You’ll get yours once you can sign the confidentiality agreement.  We’re all millionaires thanks to you.”

Bem’s expression darkened, and I guessed something weighty needed to be said.  “I hate to tell you this, Church, but your Vic…we made it back to town in five hours, Neb drove like your life depended on it.  I guess it did.  Shawn worked so hard to keep you stable.  If not for him, you’d be dead…again.”

Bem paused and shook his head. “Not dead again…I mean, he saved you again.  But the Vic, something happened…about fifty miles from Oppidum, a red light on the dashboard came on.  A little while later, another one came on.  The car made noise and there was smoke…this sweet-smelling steam…it made it back though.  Neb drove it right up to the town medical center where they put you on life support and got you ready to get transported here.  I don’t know anything more than that.”

“Mister Custos,” the doctor’s big bass voice said from somewhere that I couldn’t see, “don’t tire him out.  That’s enough for a first visit.”

“Sorry, Church,” Bem frowned down at me like a child who’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t, “have to listen to the doctor.  I’ll let Shawn know you woke up.  Don’t worry about a thing.”

Bem left the room, and the doctor and I were alone.  He leaned over me again.  “I hate to cut your reunion short, but you need complete rest until we can start building you up.  Try to sleep.”

I shut my eyes.  My consciousness shut down as I closed the lids.

*          *          *          *

A month later I was eating lunch in bed.  I’d gained twenty pounds.  The abilities this gain brought with it were limited to sitting up for a half-hour at a time and feeding myself.  My magic was back, but I was strictly forbidden from using it.

The first week and a half after I woke up was spent in white-hot pain while some rat-bastard specialist doctor worked every day to increase my bone mass with magic.  I’m sure he was a very nice man, but the agony he inflicted upon me made it difficult for me to like him.  I mean, how many people thank a dentist after a root canal?  The following two-and-a-half weeks were spent in the care of a brother / sister team of muscle experts.  They put some of my mass back and started my physical therapy.

The meal in front of me was something; a big oval plate covered in pockets of fried dough stuffed with bacon and cheese, sausage and cheese, cheese and cheese, and the like.  I had been directed to eat as much protein, as many calories, and as much dairy as I could, to provide the building materials my body needed to recover.

Between meals I drank the equivalent of protein shakes.  I couldn’t help but think that the constant eating and my new diet was just as bad as it had been when I was trying to maintain my weight prior to the mission.  I chalked it up to something that had to be done and tried not to complain no matter how tedious it got.

Luckily, I always had plenty of company to distract me.  The original mission team remained dedicated to making certain I wasn’t alone for long, if at all.  The Dux brothers had hung around a little at the beginning of my rehabilitation, but Cy wanted to get back to his family and Vulp seemed to come as a set with Cy.  After they left, Shawn and Neb and Bem took over the rotation of visits.

My current company was Neb.  Shawn had just left.  He had an appointment with his uncle to go over some damn thing or another.  I missed him whenever he wasn’t with me and tended to resent anything that took him away, his uncle included.  As it was just Neb and me, and as I was eating and not conversing, Neb busied herself by reading from a tablet while she sang snatches of Motown that she remembered from our drive across the plains.  She remembered quite a bit and her lovely voice went well with the lyrics.  I was impressed by her memory and the way she sang.

Neb kept coming back to the song that she and Bem had danced to, Smokey Robinson and the Miracles with ‘You Really Got A Hold On Me.’  She’d sung the first verse and was singing ‘you really got a hold on me’ in ask and answer fashion when my doctor walked in for his daily visit.  Neb’s melodic contralto rose and fell with the repeated line.  Doctor Altrix was scrolling through the glass tablet that recorded my vitals when the tune wormed its way into his head.  Neb sang another verse and the first ‘you really got a hold on me’ when the doctor jumped in to be the answer to her ask.

His voice complimented hers well.  They sang the line twice more in ask and answer, then harmonized it once.  Neb seemed to suddenly realize what she was doing.  She clamped her mouth shut and colored slightly at the attention the doc was giving her.  “Miss Torolus, what is that lovely tune you were singing?” Doctor Altrix asked as he approached Neb’s chair. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything as sweet as that song.  Is it new?”

Neb clutched her tablet in her lap.  Her eyes met mine with what I took to be a plea for help.  She couldn’t very well tell the doctor the song she was singing was music from another world.  The doc knew much of my story as far as my unique magic went, but my origin had not been included in the briefing he’d received.  Neb seemed at a loss of what to do.

“She wrote it.” I blurted, inspired by an impulse to lie in Neb’s and my favor.

“CHURCH!”  Neb scolded.  “I didn’t write it.” She tried to convince the doctor by saying it again. “I didn’t write it.  He’s teasing me.”

“Don’t be so modest, Neb.” I doubled down on my own horseshit. “You should be proud of your talent.”

“Church!” She scolded me again.

“It’s a lovely song.” The doc complimented in his bass voice.  He moved toward Neb like he wanted to get to know her better by getting physically closer to her. “Do you have any more?”

Neb stood from her chair and backed away from the approaching doctor.  “No, I don’t have any at all.  I didn’t write it.  I’m a musician, but not a songwriter.”

“A musician?” The doc sounded intrigued. “What do you play?”

Neb backed almost to the wall, then darted out to the side to avoid the steadily advancing doctor.  “Anything with strings.” She replied as she fled around the room.

The doc’s face lit up at her answer.  “Really?  How wonderful.  I play the piano and the organ.  My dream was to be in a band, but I never met anyone with the creativity to write music.  I’m considered a talented musician, but only with other people’s material.  Are you a professional songwriter?”

“I’m a Warrant Officer in the special forces branch of the military.  I’m a military strategist, not a songwriter.” Neb insisted.  She’d backed around the room and was at the head of my bed as she tried hard to make her point.  She wasn’t having much luck.

“Maybe not a professional,” Doctor Altrix said sweetly, “but anyone who can write lyrics as pure and beautiful as those…Miss Torolus, I urge you not to hide your light under a bushel.  Please, let me take you to dinner tonight.  I would very much like to talk to you.  My shift is over at five.  I can be changed and ready by half past.  Please.” He begged her.

Not even tough-as-nails-Neb could hold out against the poor man’s pleading. “Where should I meet you?” She relented at the end of a sigh.

“Anywhere you say.” The doc replied eagerly. “Here…out front…in the lobby, or I…I could come to your apartment…”

Neb shook her head, more at the doctor’s enthusiasm than at his list of options.  “The lobby, I’ll see you in the lobby at five-thirty.”

The doc beamed.  “I am so pleased you accepted.  Until this evening Miss Torolus.”

“Neb.” She corrected.

“Neb.” Doctor Altrix grabbed Neb’s right hand from where it hung at her side, leaned over, and kissed the back of it. “A lovely name for a lovely lady.  I am Calidi.”  He released her and floated from the room on a cloud of joy.

Neb watched the doctor go.  When he was gone, she scowled at me.  “What is WRONG with you?  Why did you tell him I write music?”

I couldn’t tell her it was a whim brought on by their brief duet, even though it was.  I tried some fake reason.  “He’s an attractive man, isn’t he?  He’s built like Bem and about your height.  You said Bem was close to your ideal.  He’s an educated, professional man who loves music.  You’re a talented, professional woman who loves music.  You both have perfect singing voices.  I thought you two would like spending some time together.”

Neb’s scowl softened and she shoved the rolled sleeves of her grey overshirt above her elbows.  Her action called my attention to her outfit, and I puzzled over it.  I didn’t know why she continued to wear the fatigues, except maybe she hadn’t been able to get home yet.  I really didn’t know why she was still hanging around six weeks after the mission.  I enjoyed her company but didn’t understand.  I thought of us as friends, but not close enough for her to visit me daily for weeks and weeks.

Neb looked at the door to the room that the doctor had so recently passed through.  “He is an attractive man, and he does have a nice voice.” She admitted.

Neb turned back to me to see that I was grinning.  She pointed a long finger at my grin.  “Don’t smile at me like you won something.  I reserve the right to be angry with you.”  She shoved her sleeves up again and gestured down at herself.  “What in the world am I going to wear?  I haven’t been on a date in…I don’t even remember how many years.”

I snatched my new phone from the nightstand and made a quick call.  Shawn had gotten it for me as a ‘you can move your arms again’ celebration gift.  It took only a second to get passed Attie of Anticuus Men’s to talk to Rubi.  “Rubi…Church.  I have a friend here with a wardrobe emergency.  She’s a woman.  I know you specialize in men, but can you do women as well?  Please.”

Rubi was reluctant until I told her I’d lost a lot of weight and would need all new clothes soon…and that money was no object.  That admission made Rubi very enthusiastic.  I gave Neb the address and sent her on her way.

After that day, I didn’t see Neb very much.  She’d stop in for a few minutes here and there, usually when she was on her way to meet the doc.  I figured things between her and the doc were going well when he came in a week later whistling “Higher and Higher” by Jackie Wilson.  I made a mental note to figure out how to transfer my CDs to some format that would work with Solum electronics.  It sounded like Neb was going to need a larger repertoire to draw from.

*          *          *          *

About three months after that, I was in the middle of doing my physical therapy.  I’d gained another forty pounds and could move around pretty well.  I liked to refer to the therapy sessions as my Zen time.  I was on a rowing machine and was rowing nowhere.  Across from me, Bem was on a stepper and was climbing stairs to nowhere.  As Neb’s attendance at my bedside tapered off, Bem’s increased to the point that he spent almost as much time with me as Shawn.

Bem and I had grown close, close enough that I didn’t have any secrets from him.  I didn’t offer him my every thought, but if he asked a question, I held nothing back.  He’d seemed quiet lately, more introspective than usual.  “Are you OK?” I asked my friend.

Bem paused on the never-ending staircase.  Both the pedals of the machine sank to the bottom of their stroke, and he turned his head to face me.  “I don’t know what to do now.”

The silence of my machine made it possible for me to continue my rowing and talk at the same time.  “What do you mean?”

Bem shrugged helplessly, stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at the floor.  “I’m unemployed.  My old job took me all over Solum.  I was always on the go.  I don’t even have a place to live.  I’ve been staying at The HALL.  I tried keeping an apartment once, but two entire years went by without me seeing the inside of it.  It seemed silly to keep the place, so I sold my furniture and cancelled the lease.  I live in barracks, dormitories, or hotel rooms.  My possessions are whatever I carry with me.  That’s been my life.  Now I have all this money, and nothing to do.”

“Do you have any hobbies?”

“No, unless you count sex.”

I stopped rowing and leaned on my oars.  “I meant something you like to do that could become your passion.”

“Like sex?” He asked.

“No, I mean something you’re good at.”

“I’m good at sex.”

I rubbed my face with my hands in frustration.  Every time I did it, I surprised myself with what it felt like.  My fingers, if not quite skeletal, were still very thin and my face was little more than skin stretched over my skull.  The one good thing my body did as it consumed itself, it didn’t leave me with big bags of empty skin.   As it turned fat and muscle to magic, it used the spare skin for fuel as well.  “You know what I mean.” I said to my hollow palms.

“Yes, I do.” Bem admitted with a sigh. “The answer is no.  I grew up fast in a little farming town, not very different from Oppidum.  My father was the town’s only lawyer.  My mother left when I was a kid.  I hated the dullness of life there.  As soon as I could, I escaped and joined the military.  Since then, I’ve been on the move.  I know people all over the world, but I don’t have any real friends.  It’s just me, my suitcase, and the rest of my life.”

“What about me and Shawn?” I asked, maybe a bit indignantly.

“What about you?”

I was hurt by Bem’s lack of understanding.  “Aren’t we friends?  I thought at least you and I were.  Fate pushed us together, but after all we’ve been through, and these months you’ve spent with me…I thought we were friends.”

“But you and Shawn have each other.”

“Yeah…so what?” I challenged Bem. “You and me can still be friends.  I was hoping when my body works again, we could be friends with benefits.”

Bem’s face lit up and the gravity in the room seemed to lessen.  “Oooohhhh…that sounds great.”  Then, as quickly as it came, the light went out of his gaze, and the gravity seemed to return.  “Say, Big Guy…I’ve been meaning to ask, with everything you lost…uh…did you lose any…um…I mean…did everything shrink?”

I was confused until I remembered who I was talking to.  As it was Bem, every discussion eventually became about my penis.  “Actually,” I grinned up at him, “less padding means there’s more usable length.”

“So hot.” Bem breathed.

I laughed and went back to rowing nowhere.  “Bem…for the rest of it…there’s plenty of time.  I enjoy your company and I know Shawn does.  You’re welcome to hang around with us until something tickles your fancy.”

“Thanks, Big Guy…means a lot.”  Bem went back to stepping and the moment was over.

*          *          *          *

Two months after that, Doctor Altrix was ready to release me from the hospital.  I was walking on my own, and my weight was up to one-hundred-and-seventy-five pounds.  That was still underweight for a man of my height with my large frame, but I was merely thin instead of skeletal.

Shawn had been busy making arrangements for my homecoming.  He knew that climbing the stairs to his apartment would be very taxing for me until I’d had a lot more therapy, so he made an offer for the first-floor unit in the same building.  The woman who lived on the first-floor also owned the building.  She was unwilling to give up her apartment until Shawn offered her too much money for the whole building.  She greedily accepted and moved out almost immediately.

Shawn’s purchase worked out in more ways than he anticipated.  Satis and Bellus were hoping to break their lease on their third-floor apartment.  Bellus wanted to get pregnant, and the couple needed a bigger place.  Shawn happily released them.  To simplify matters for us even more, Shawn made the second-floor tenant a nice offer to vacate, which he accepted.  The idea was for the second-floor place to become my therapy gym.

Around the time Shawn took possession of the building, Bem’s situation came to a mini-crisis.  “I don’t know what to do.” He complained to Neb and Shawn and I.  It was a rare moment when we were all together.  Bem was hanging around as usual, sitting in the visitor’s chair.  Shawn was sitting next to me on the bed.  Neb leaned on the wall near the room door.

Neb looked great.  Rubi had done a fine job on her wardrobe.  That day she wore a high-waisted, belted dress with a long flowing skirt, very short sleeves, and a modest neckline.  The dress was rich royal-purple, and the belt was mint-green.  Neb was waiting for the doc’s shift to end so they could go to dinner and do some more work on a project they’d started between them.

One of Ars’ experts had come up with a way to transfer my CDs to a digital Solum format and we’d let the doc in on the secret of where I came from.  The new couple had been spending their evenings listening their way through my music collection.  The doc seemed to be very excited about the strange music from another world.  He regularly sang his way through my daily check-up.  That day, the selection had been an alternative hit from the 90’s, ‘Shine’ by Collective Soul.

“What’s wrong?” I asked to get back to Bem and his problem.

“I’m sick of living at The HALL.  Now that you’re getting released, I won’t ever see you guys.” He huffed, his arms crossed and his chin in his chest.

Shawn brightened up with an idea.  “Why not move into my old place?  I bought the whole building.  It’s furnished, but you can do anything you want with it.  At least you’ll be near friends until you figure yourself out.”

“That sounds great!”  Bem enthused, going from bummed to thrilled in an instant.  “How much rent do you want?”

Shawn and I stared at Bem.  Shawn spoke first.  “You’re kidding, right?  Nothing.  If that bothers your conscience, a credit a year.”

Bem grinned at how silly he’d been.  “Guess I forgot we’re rich.  Thanks, Shawn.  When can I move in?”

“Anytime.  I already moved to the first floor.  The place is clean and ready.”

Neb cleared her throat and looked like she wanted to ask a question but didn’t know how to get started.  “Uh…Shawn…could I use one of the other apartments for a while?  At least until I see where this thing with Cal…I mean Doctor Altrix is going.”

Shawn was happy to keep the team together.  “Take the third-floor place.  You can use it as long as you want.  Come by anytime and I’ll give you the key.”

“Just not tonight.” I chimed in.

“Why not?” Bem and Neb asked almost in unison.

“Tonight belongs to me and Shawn.” I explained without elaborating.

The most malicious leer I’d ever seen spread itself across Bem’s face.  “Oooohhhh, you going to put the extra length to work, Church?”

Heat poured from my face.  I’d hoped that I’d eventually be numb to Bem’s innuendo, but after seven months, almost eight, his leering comments still brought the blood to my face as easily as the day we met.

Shawn answered for me.  “We’re going to see if this new body is as much fun as the old one was.  Next week he starts training with the Elit Fortis expert that trained Cy and Vulp.”

“I don’t want to be as big as them,” I added, “but I’d like to put some muscle on.  I want,” I looked at the floor and wrung my hands, “I want to be attractive, for him.” I jerked my head toward Shawn.

Shawn linked his arm through mine.  “I keep telling him it doesn’t matter.  Thin or fat, ripped or soft, it’s him I love.”

I leaned my shoulder into Shawn’s to get his attention.  “You like powerfully built men, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then that’s what I’ll be.”

Shawn shook his head.  “It will please me if you put muscle on, but you don’t have to put muscle on to please me.”

“If it pleases you, it will please me.” I retorted.

“And me!” Bem added.

We all laughed.

Soon after that discussion was had and settled, the doc arrived with my release papers and some instructions on diet and exercise.  He collected Neb for their date and left.  Bem left for his last night at The HALL.  He promised to see us in the morning for the key to his new place.  Shawn took the bag that held my few belongings, little more than a few pair of underwear, a toothbrush, and a razor, and he led the way out.  I shut the room light off and pulled the door closed behind.

When Henry was young, he often heard his mother tell his aunts how big his penis was. At primary school, some kids would joke about his pants being too tight to hold a bursting pouch. In high school, when he undressed in the locker room, boys would whistle as soon as he took off his jockstrap. In grade 12, one guy was bold enough to say: “My girlfriend would never let you fuck her pussy, but you can try my ass for size!” Henry is a Black, spontaneous, happy-go-lucky kind of guy.

Dorian, on the other hand, had such a small penis that his briefs were always loose in the crotch. He didn’t know if this was normal until he had to shower with other guys after the gym class in high school. Everyone laughed and some started to sing “Eeny-weeny, teeny-weeny / Shriveled short dick man”. What classmates didn’t know was how much that little tap could shoot ropes of jizz.  Dorian would masturbate late at night and fill a saucer of creamy nectar, licking every single drop to get hard again. His dick was small but could explode two or three times a day. Dorian is a White, shy, strikingly handsome blond guy.

Henry not only has a huge firm cock; his muscles are also iron hard. He goes to the gym seven days a week to develop his biceps, pecs, abs, thighs and ass. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, the gym is open to men only, and it is on those two days that Henry meets Dorian. There is no written rule, but Tuesday and Thursday members are mainly guys attracted to other guys. Henry obviously gets a lot of attention. Everyone wants to suck his mammoth appendage, and more than half dream of getting fucked by “Oh Henry”, the name of a well-known chocolate bar (which isn’t that big, but the Oh is pronounced Oooooooooh to underline the XXL size they so much want up their ass).

Dorian and Henry are both in their late 30s. Dorian does exercises to enhance his upper body. “Maybe if guys marvel over my well-defined biceps, pecs and abs, they will not notice my small package.” On Tuesdays and Thursdays, it is customary to have a gym buddy with whom you can exercise, compare muscle growth, and worship body wonders. It is not uncommon to see some partners kiss, suck and fuck on the bench press. Many guys ask Henry to partner with them, but he always politely declines the invitation. He is mainly attracted to Dorian, to his adorable face, to his mesmerizing smile. He has never felt such a powerful urge to kiss a man. When he offers him to work out as gym buddies, it is mainly in the hope that they will maybe end up caressing each other’s muscles and perhaps kiss them. Dorian is both surprised and honored that Oh Henry has chosen him.

The two men work out together, feel their bicep bulges, and end up caressing them. Henry naturally licks Victor’s finely sculpted arm, and when he sees that this has triggered a smile, the bodybuilder tops it with a kiss on the firm muscle. Victor is all shook up; he just wants to melt in Henry’s arms. The shy man reciprocates and even dares to caress Henry’s pecs. The reaction is spontaneous: “You can suck my nipples, man. I really like that!” Victor doesn’t have to be told twice; he complies on the spot. They both get a hard-on. Henry’s bulging cock is quite obvious because he’s wearing a tight singlet. Victor can hide his small erection under baggy shorts.

After their workout, members usually take a shower, but Dorian just grabs is gym bag and heads home. He still has memories of the “Eeny-weeny, teeny-weeny” song. Henry thinks that Victor’s behavior is probably due to the fact that he is shy and not as muscular as the other regular members.

One Thursday, Henry helps Dorian for the stand & sit exercise. There is no need for ass support but he likes to caress the tight butt of his partner. He gets closer and rubs his bulging cock on the crack. It is probably from that point that Dorian dreams of being wildly fucked, of feeling a huge rod in his shit hole. He turns around and smacks a wet kiss on Henry’s lips. He has never been that bold, and almost apologizes for being so entrepreneur. Henry embraces his gym buddy and congratulates him: “You are the most handsome man I have ever met. You are a so sweet. Your kiss is a dream come true. Please join me for some quality time in my small but comfy condo.”

The door barely closed, the two men kiss and devour each other as if their lives depended on it. Dorian snuggles into Henry’s arms and sniffs his sweaty chest. He dives into his armpits and gets drunk on the manly aroma. Henry is so excited that his hard-on pops out of the pink gym shorts he has chosen to wear for this first tête-à-tête. Dorian wants to feel the huge rod in his mouth and in his ass, but he is ashamed of his own little weiner. His head is spinning, and all sorts of ideas are swirling around. Dorian is sure that Henry will be so disappointed when he sees that his gym buddy is far from being well-hung. He wonders if Henry will he even want to fuck him. He wonders how he should go about seducing him. Maybe it’s better to put the cards on the table immediately.

“Henry, I must warn you that my cock is not even a quarter of yours. It is so small that I’ve once tried to enlarge it by stuffing a rubber extension.”

“Dorian, I know that I impress guys with my huge rod, but I believe that big rewards come in small packages, that Small is Mighty. That’s my definition of S&M, lol.”

On that note, they head to the bathroom, take a shower together, soaping every little corner and feeling the sap rising, but resisting a too-premature explosion. The two men dry each other off quickly and head to bedroom. Henry also wants to warn Dorian about something bigger than his cock:

“My sweet, adorable Dorian, it’s the first time that I feel something special for a guy. I’ve fucked left and right, men and women, but have never put my heart into a relationship. It was always a physical ecstasy, no feelings involved. With you, honey, it’s a totally different ballgame.”

He could have added “no pun intended” because Dorian may have a small dick, but his balls are like lemons. And they are super charged with white gold. For now, cuddling, caressing and kissing top the list. “A man’s hands on my biceps and pecs are so fuckin rewarding, says Henry. A virile caress triggers an incredible well-being. I feel reborn under your manly massage, my darling buddy!” Dorian loves to put his tongue to work. French kissing is a must, so is nipple sucking. And the ass is the best playground for a greedy tongue.

Henry’s ebony crack excites Dorian to the hilt; he licks the manly crevice, sniffs the shit hole aroma, gets aroused like never before, darts the perky chocolate rosebud and tongue-twists his way inside to make his partner moan like a wildebeest. “Holy fuck, screams Henry. Your tongue is more pungent than any foot-long dagger!” Thus encouraged, Dorian kisses Henry’s asshole and mouth in a well-choreographed back and forth movement. After this succulent ass-tasting kiss, Henry embraces Dorian’s body warmly and tells him a secret: “I’ve been doomed with a huge dick. It has given me huge pleasures, of course, but it has had also the effect, up until now, of keeping guys with a smaller cock away from me. And that is exactly what I want to suck: a tiny weiner. You have the perfect size, sweet Dorian. I would love to pump your man juice while you suck my balls.”

Dorian’s dick may be small, but Henry sees it as a large nipple and that makes him triple horny. Two succulent tits up there, one juicy one down here. He swirls his tongue around the little pink mushroom. He licks, suckles and swallows the growing lolipop while Dorian chews his yummy black nuts. The tasty weiner hardens and dances on his tongue. Henry swallows and regurgitates it until he feels the sap boiling. “Oh, my God! I’m milking my lover’s virile boob. This is so fuckingly ecstatic.” Dorian’s cock swells further, sending signals of an imminent eruption. “I want to suck you dry, man. Don’t pull out until I’m fully sated.” Henry certainly did not expect to be thoroughly flooded. The explosion is so profuse that the jizz drips from his mouth onto his chin. Dorian pulls out and flip flops to lick his creamy drippings. He seals the hottest cock sucking with a French kiss.

Henry’s black nuts are also full of white gold that needs to blurt out.

“Do you think that your tight pinky ass can take my monster tool? I will respect your decision.”

“I thought you would never ask. I’ve been dreaming of having you fill my fuck chute hard, wide and deep.”

“You know that it might hurt. I’ve seen guys pull out half way and run away.”

“That will not be my case. You are the chosen one to fill my hungry trunk with your spunky junk.”

On that note, Henry licks Dorian’s crispy hole, gets it all wet, lubricates his bazooka and starts shoving the tip of his eleven-inch shaft (28.5 cm) inside the begging love canal. Not one single cry of pain. Just increasing moans of pleasure as the thick dagger plunges further inside his new lover’s bowels. As soon as his fuck chute is flooded with ropes of jizz, Dorian indicates that he wants Holy Communion. He positions himself to felch Henry’s jizz. White gold dripping from a Black butt is simply exquisite! When it serves to seal a kiss, it becomes divine!

The two men have never felt such an intense union. Only a dick marrying an arse can produce such a euphoric state. Henry and Dorian are experiencing more than physical pleasure; their bodies, hearts, minds and souls are binding together. They are no more gym buddies, they are lovers.