Originally published in Honcho magazine - August, 1992
Have you ever had one of those days when everything goes wrong? I just had one and yet, in retrospect, it will probably go down as one of the most exciting days in my life.
It had actually begun two weeks earlier, when I'd been given notice that I was being dismissed from my job, along with four others, to cut back on costs. The dismissals were "honorable," but that didn't change that fact that I was out of work. On the morning after my last day, I went to the office at the usual time to pick up my final paycheck. Then I planned to stop by the unemployment office.
When I got to my office, Jay, the big, red-haired, muscular custodian, was just opening up. He'd heard the news and was apparently genuinely sorry.
"I really like you, Kevin," he said in his baritone voice, and when I looked in his eyes, there was something there I hadn't noticed before.
Jay is one of those big jock types. Really big. About six-two, maybe two hundred and twenty pounds, very muscular, and very hairy, including a beard. But he had a huge bulge in his tight jeans, and the combination of good looks, brawn, and a large basket always does something to me.
"I wish there was something I could do to help you get your mind off what's happened," he said sympathetically. And his big hand dropped to his basket and gave it a squeeze. Although he did it casually, it was perfectly clear what he meant. I was definitely surprised, but there was no mistaking it. I had to think fast or forget it.
I swallowed. Sighed. Considered. Then I said, "Well, Jay, is there someplace we can go? Someplace quiet and private? Where we can ... well, talk ... without being disturbed?"
He smiled and said, "I know just the place:' He led me into the back corridors of the ground floor, into a storage room. I had no idea it even existed. Probably no one else did either, which was fine with me.
"Jay," I said, and coughed self-consciously, "I never realized you were so big. I mean really, really big."
"You like that?" he asked me, and he didn't appear nervous or shy at all. "That's really great, man, because I get really ... well, excited ... about little guys. Know what I mean?"
I had never thought of myself as being especially "little," but there was no doubt I paled in comparison with Jay. I'm about five-eight and weigh just over a hundred and thirty-five pounds. My dick isn't unusually big, but I had a feeling my dick wasn't going to be the important element in what was about to happen. Call it intuition.
"How about taking off all those clothes and showing me that hot little body of yours, man," Jay said, and I resigned myself to the fact that from now on I was going to be "man," not Kevin. But that was all right with me.
"I'll take mine off if you'll just strip from the waist down," I replied. "That turtleneck sweater and knit cap turn me on."
He laughed softly in that baritone voice of his. His thighs were large and layered with soft, red hair, as was his tight, round ass. But what excited me almost as much as his hairy legs and big cock--and it was huge--were his gray-ribbed turtleneck and navy stocking cap. Certain types of clothing really excite m e: leather, gloves and turtlenecks among them. It's a fetish, I guess, and it makes sex all the more exciting when my partner is wearing something like that.
"You like fucking around with older guys, man?" Jay asked, running his big hands all over my naked body.
Jay couldn't have been over forty-five years old. I'm pushing thirty, but I look much, much younger. I've been mistaken for a teenager before, in fact, which is fine with me. I've found that a lot of older guys prefer younger ones, whereas I prefer the older ones. So what usually happens is that I get guys who are older, guys who go for me because I look much younger than I am. Everybody wins.
"Real pretty ass you got there, man;' Jay said, not waiting for me to answer him. He was breathing heavier.
"Maybe you'd like to eat it for me, Jay," I suggested, leaning over a desk, because I could tell that was what he wanted--at least for starters.
He knelt behind me and with his big hands he spread my butt cheeks wide open, so wide that it hurt. "You like eating young pussy, Jay?" I asked him.
"This kind, yeah," he replied, and then his hairy face was buried between my cheeks and his tongue was licking my asshole furiously, his beard tickling my buns. His tongue was just as strong as the rest of him appeared to be, and before long I felt the tip penetrate me. He pushed at least half of it in me, and then he was moving in and out, fucking me with it. There's nothing that turns me on more than getting my ass eaten out, and Jay was a pro.
Later, after we'd finished, he told me that when he'd been at the university on a football scholarship, he was eating the sweet young asses of several members of the men's tennis team. He laughed as he said, "Some of those guys would let me fuck them after I'd eaten their ass, as a 'reward.' And almost every one, after I'd finished fucking his tight little cunt, would tell me he had to leave because he was fucking his girlfriend in a little while and didn't want to piss her off--by being late! Only one of those guys was honest enough to admit he really liked it, and we spent more than a few nights together."
But that story came after he'd finished with me, which took more than an hour. I was literally moaning from the action of his tongue when, without warning, I felt his huge cock penetrate me. It had already been lubed with something, although his saliva probably would have been sufficient. He started slowly, but then he began to plow my ass furiously, ramming his eleven inches in and out as sweat poured from his muscular, hairy body. As he fucked me, he reached between my legs and jerked me off. Pretty soon I spilled a big load, just moments before he gasped, whined, and filled my ass with his own explosion of warm cream. He left his meat in me for several more minutes before easing it out with a loud squishing sound.
"Some fuckin' A, man," he sighed.
"Some fuckin' tongue, man," I replied, smiling.
After we'd pulled our clothes back on, and he'd told me that story about the tennis team, he said, "Too bad it takes something like this to get two guys like us together.
"Yeah, really," I agreed. "Jay, do you know where I live?"
He smiled. "No, but I've got a feeling you're going to tell me."
I did, and Jay and I met many more times after that ...
The drive to my home takes me over a long stretch of "middle of nowhere" highway, and sometimes my foot has a tendency to get a little heavy. Because that road was patrolled pretty effectively by motorcycle cops, I decided to take a shortcut over some rough and gravelly road. It didn't actually save much time, and I rarely took it because it got my car so dirty. But that day I was in the mood for something different. I felt a little reckless.
I had been on the back road for about fifteen minutes and was lost in thought when I heard the siren. Looking in my rearview mirror I could see the motorcycle cop gaining rapidly, occasionally skidding on the gravel.
"Son of a fucking bitch," I muttered. "What else is going to happen today?"
I pulled to the side, turned off the ignition, sighed resignedly, and waited for the inevitable.
From my mirror I could see the cop get down from his bike and begin walking toward me. I recognized him immediately, even with his helmet and mirrored sunglasses. He was Officer Puckett, who had the reputation of being a real jerk, a total bastard. Wonderful.
The only good thing about Officer Puckett, as far as I was concerned, was the he was the type of bruiser who turned me on. He was big and broad, and he had a thick, well-groomed moustache. As for the rest of him, I had no idea, but my fantasies filled in the blanks quite nicely.
"Hello, lead-foot," he said as he stepped to my window. "What's the rush?"
Shit. I handed him my driver's license. And I explained, as he began to write my speeding ticket, about losing my job and being preoccupied, everything that had happened except, of course, the part about Jay. "This has been a hell of a day already, Officer, and it's still early," I concluded.
"Yeah, Mr. Granger," he said. Suddenly he stopped writing and looked at my eyes through his glasses. I didn't see his gaze immediately, though, because mine was directed at the big bulge in his tight blue uniform pants. Then I realized that he knew what I was looking at!
When I finally pulled my eyes away and looked into his mirrored glasses, he was smiling. "Well, well, well," he said thoughtfully. "I was wondering if I'd ever pull one of you guys over. I was beginning to think Trimball had all the luck."
I recognized the name Trimball, another of our city's finest. Apparently, I surmised, Trimball had pulled over some gays before and had been "rewarded" for his leniency. It was a small town and I'd heard stories. The interest in Puckett's smile was obvious, and I've never been bashful when it comes to sex. And, after all, it was one of those days ...
Innocently, I asked, "Is there anything I can do, Officer Puckett, to get you to tear up that ticket?" I stared unashamedly at his crotch. "Anything at all?"
He set the ticket book on the top of my car and began to absently unfasten his belt with his gloved hands. Then he slowly unzipped his pants.
"Well," he said, "I'm not used to making exceptions, so I'll have to g1ve it some thought, Granger. How about helping me decide?"
I reached into his unzipped slacks and felt the stiffness in his shorts. It took some doing, but I finally freed the long, fat slab of meat that was confined there and took the head between my lips.
"Oh, yeah, cock-sucker," he gasped. "Blow that big fucker!"
I began to do just that, at the same time reaching into his pants and pulling out one of the biggest and hairiest sets of balls I'd ever seen. I let the big cock spring from my mouth and began working on those nuts as Puckett commanded, "Get out of that fuckin' car. I think you need a working over with my ten-incher.
I did as I was ordered, and after closing the door behind me I stepped close to him. I began to unbutton his shirt. He offered no resistance and as I worked my way down I saw a luxurious mat of black hair covering his chest. I began to run my hands through it, his long, stiff cock poking me in the stomach.
"Strip," he ordered.
I did, quickly, showing this big stud my much smaller body, stiff six-inch cock, and perfect ass.
"Turn around so I can see that sweet little ass, baby," he told me.
Suddenly I wasn't "Granger" anymore. That was fine with me. I suppose he hadn't noticed my age on my driver's license. Maybe he assumed I was in my early twenties or even my late teens.
I turned around and leaned over the trunk of my car, exposing my ass to him. He ran his big, gloved hands all over it, kneading it roughly, occasionally letting a finger slip inside to tease the hole.
"Bet you got a real tight pussy, huh, baby?" he asked. I assumed the question was rhetorical and so gave no answer. He stuck the finger into me and pushed it in as far as it would go. I grunted.
After working it in me for a while, he withdrew it and began to chuckle. "You already been fucked today, ain't you?"
I think I blushed, but didn't say anything.
"Trimball pull you over a ways back?" he asked, and laughed. "It don't fuckin' matter. That cum'll probably make my cock go in a little easier, right?"
I didn't say a word, but my twitching asshole answered for me.
"Take this, baby!" he grunted, and in an instant his huge cock was in me. The big cop fucked rather slowly at first, not because he didn't want to hurt me, but because he wanted to get used to the feeling. Once he'd in-and-outed me a few times, the tempo increased, until finally he was grunting and slamming my hole like it was the best pussy he'd ever had. Hell, I'm sure it was the best pussy he'd ever had, unless he'd fucked a guy before. I'm convinced that if more straight guys would fuck ass, there'd be a lot more virgins in the world. Female virgins.
As Puckett fucked me, he reached around and played with my stiff little titties. He was good at that. He leaned completely on top of me, and I could feel his chest hair brushing against my smooth back. His thrusts into me were forcing my dick roughly against the car, giving my cock a good massage.
"Oh, shit, I'm gonna cum!" I gasped.
Surprisingly--he was a bundle of surprises--Puckett yanked his big piece out of my asshole and roughly spun me around just as my dick began to spurt. He grabbed my shaft, aimed the head at his own cock and watched, spellbound, as my cream squirted all over it. When I stopped shooting, he spun me back around and then slammed his newly lubricated cock back into my ass.
He fucked me rhythmically with a loud squishing sound. Then a few minutes later he pulled out and coated my ass cheeks with a tremendous load of creamy white jizz. Puckett used his gloved hands to massage my cum-wet buns. When I was dry, he sighed loudly, turned me around, and said, "You have the most incredible cunt I've ever fucked, baby."
"Why, thank you, Officer," I replied, trying to sound embarrassed and pleased. I watched as he pulled his pants back on and then tore up my ticket.
"Baby, that was fun," he told me. "You ever want a good fuck again, just speed a little on my turf, okay?"
"No problem," I smiled. He licked his lips, turned around, got back onto his motorcycle and headed back the way he had come.
"Damn, that felt good," I said to myself, reaching back and massaging my somewhat tender little asshole. Putting on just my shorts, I opened the door and got inside, planning to make the rest of the drive to my house--which was isolated from other homes--without my clothes on.
I was in the process of wondering what else could go wrong (or right) when I suddenly got a pretty good idea. Pulling into my driveway, I saw a van parked there. It was plain--no lettering on the sides--and had out-of-state plates. It clearly belonged to no one I knew. Not only that, but my front door was swung open.
I quietly stepped out of my car, leaving the door partially open so that whoever was in my house would not be alerted that I was home. I peered through the open door but saw no one and heard nothing. I remained stationary for a couple of minutes, and then I heard it. A noise. Coming from upstairs.
Cautiously climbed the stairs, for some reason feeling that if I surprised whoever was up there, he would instantly flee. I never considered what was really going to happen.
"What the hell's going on here?" I snapped in my best tough-guy voice. The words were barely out of my mouth when I stopped short and stared. Two men wearing ski masks, one red, one black, were putting some of my more valuable possessions in a big box. They, too, stopped and stared.
One was big and black, maybe six-four or so. The other was about six feet tall and Mexican. The black man in the red ski mask had a hairy chest under his black leather vest and skintight gloves--something else that turns me on. The Mexican, in the black ski mask, wore similar clothing, but more hair was showing around the mouth of his mask.
They both stared at me for a moment, masks in place, and then the black man said, "I ain't never been caught by no naked man before."
I started to speak, then stopped. Looking down at myself in only briefs, I realized I had not bothered to dress after pulling into the driveway.
"Looks to me like the white boy need some hard lovin'," said the black man, unbuckling his leather pants.
I tried to run. I really did. But my feet would not move.
"No," I said, but I guess it wasn't forceful enough.
"What's that 'no' mean?" the black man asked, looking at his partner.
"It means 'yes,"' answered the Mexican, who was also stripping off his clothes. Soon both men were naked except for their ski masks and gloves.
"Look," I began.
"Fuck first; look later," the black man said. His ebony skin excited m e, as did his mask. My cock was giving me away. It would have been difficult to convince them that I wasn't excited.
The black man's cock was long and fat, circumcised, and his balls were huge. His buddy was also naked, and his big, uncut Mexican dick jutted out with a distinct upward curve.
"You want his ass or his mouth?" the black man asked his partner.
"You can have his ass," the Mexican answered, moving toward me, and ripping off my shorts.
"This is your lucky day, boy," the black man said. "You're gonna get two big ones." His cock was hard, and I guess he figured I was tame enough now to let go. He walked in front of me and ordered me to suck him. He held it out to me by the base, and I began to lick it. I wrapped my lips around the cock and began to suck it like I know how, and the black talked to me with the hottest, raunchiest sex-language I'd heard in a long time.
At the same time, his friend was finger-fucking me good, getting me ready for his partner. I guess he found my butthole already well stretched.
"He's ready for you, man," the Mexican finally announced, moving away from my ass to make way for the black guy.
"I think he was ready a long time ago," the black guy replied. They changed positions and the black giant positioned his cock against my hole. I don't think I'd ever had such a big cock pushed completely up into me with one long, quick thrust.
At the same time, the Mexican shoved his uncut dick in my mouth. I had a huge cock drilling me from behind and one ramming into me from the front. I could feel the Mexican's ample foreskin sliding back and forth as the shaft drove in and out between my clamped lips. I'm kind of partial to that extra skin, and I was excited, despite myself.
After a while, the Mexican pulled out of my mouth and ordered me to suck his balls. They were big, and low-hanging, in contrast to the black guy's, which were huge but pulled fairly taut to his cock. I like sucking balls, and I did a good job on the ones provided me here. If I do say so myself ...
The black man suddenly grabbed me on each side of my waist and twisted me roughly to my back, without his cock leaving my asshole. That was kind of exciting, except that I had the Mexican's balls in my mouth when it happened. He yelped and yanked them from my mouth as they were being twisted around, and he screamed some things in his native language that I assume were rather crude. The black guy just laughed.
The Mexican straddled my face, forcing his cock deep in my throat. While I concentrated on that big mouthful of dick, I was getting my ass hammered by the big black stud. I never felt so violated before, but I'm not exactly complaining.
Suddenly, the black guy pulled his huge cock out of my stretched ass-cavern and started spraying hot cream all over my butt cheeks.
No sooner was he finished than his Mexican friend grabbed my hair tightly and started pumping a big salty load into my mouth and down my throat. I couldn't help myself--I jerked off my own aching cock at the same time I sucked his softening dick. Then we were all sitting on my bedroom carpet, catching our breath.
The black guy looked at his friend and said in a tired voice, "Get dressed, amigo. Time to hit the road."
Both dressed quickly, then let me have a few goodbye licks on each of their cocks before they tucked them in and left. With a big load of my possessions, and their masks having never left their faces.
I called the police a few minutes after they left. I was sexually exhausted and hadn't been able to make myself move any sooner. I pulled on some clothes before I finally made the call.
About a half hour later, my doorbell rang. Standing there to take my report was Officer Puckett. "Well, well, well," Puckett said with a broad smile, as he stepped inside.
He got his report, but not for a couple of hours. My "bad day" had one more fuck left in it, and Officer Puckett was up for the job.
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