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Back Alley Bustin' By Eightane ************************************************ I tasted metal. Kinda goes without saying, when you're slammed face-first into a dumpster lid. The guy had power, I'll give him that; to shove me all the way there from the door, a good eight feet away on the next brick building. I leaned up in a daze, my nose full with foggy salt air; thinkin' to myself, I gotta quit drinkin' at these dives. I knew goin' in how they're magnets for his type, down every double-door this end of N'awlins. Fuckin' sailors, gym rats, construction jocks, any man who's all-brawn, no-brains and lookin' to drown the day's rage in shots. Only reason I knew, is it's where I belong. Damn sure fit the 'no-brains' part to a 'T'... I mean to make a comment like that, and think I'd stroll away scot-free. I shook it off, stunned but recovering, and turned to stand my ground. These tiger legs are nothin' if not fast, so while I didn't have time to watch him throw that huge brown fist at my throat, I still had the time to sidestep. Felt so good to see his brawn hit nothin' but air; of course he expected me to be there, so his body went right after, stumbling to the side of that bin. The 'thud' was muffled by his jeans, and I'll tell you right now, it didn't do shit for his mood. So he just stood there a minute, thick fingers planted on the steel to prop him up, prob'ly locked tight in his own huff. By then my head was pretty much fine, enough to know there's no way in hell I could run. So I just stared him down, thinkin' hard about what I was up against. A six-foot-four tanuki wall of muscle, from the top of his neck right down to the ankles in his work boots. Shirtless, so that every nook and groove in his pecs or that fuckin' ice tray of a six-pack just screamed at you. Did the job so well, I'd forgot I was still two inches taller, and just as fuckin' huge; a fireman's beef behind this dingy wife-beater, stomach flat enough to eat on, with two tree trunks in sleeves o' stonewashed denim. Well, make that three... And bare size-15 feet to tie it all together, like a bow on a gift. It just sticks in my memory how quick he'd pulled that tank-top off his head, the second I was buzzed enough to arm-wrestle. Guess that's why I'd picked him; it was clear as the scar on his left cheek, that neither of us would half-ass anything. But standin' there, frozen and watching his head turn towards me, I almost wished I'd lost. While he put weight on his feet, teeterin' like most who down five Jager bombs, it was now or never. I know my posture musta been perfect, while I curled these striped fingers... If I couldn't back him down, I could at least show him he wouldn't be pulverizin' anyone. I coughed, to hide a chuckle; he actually pounded fists together, like a pawn in a mob flick. It was reflex to laugh, sure, and one I couldn't hold back; but that ran a short course. His biceps rippled out with every crash... I could see the veins bulge, broken highways from his wrist to the bend of his pits. I knew my lip was out, sneering right back; I knew I could hold my own, and hell, I might even enjoy it. But I also knew that even shitfaced, he knew exactly what the fuck he was doin'. It might just come down to practice, I thought, and who's got more. It was one of the last things I'd keep to myself, for a while; by now, we took loose-legged steps toward each other, panting and prepped to fuckin' destroy. It'd be the best brawl in months, I'd bet money... A joe who could even hope to match my power, and kickin' ass just to lay down a diss. So I was cleared to have fun, and know there was nothin' of substance to lose. I could tell I grinned while I taunted him. "Y' can't do better than that? I've kissed worse shit than dumpsters..." We stopped at each other's body heat, slow-orbiting a space the size of a pencil... I was close enough to read every blue line in his iris. "... Your sister dropped by the other night." I knew that'd do it, and watched his scowl and breath boost harder. We traded flexing, even growls. Mine were for the thought of how good it'd feel to knock his fuckin' lights out. I know his were no different, just for how quick I drew proof. "Yeah, talk it up, wimp." His head twitched skyward; so fuckin' clichè. "You think you got a prayer? What's your teeth worth to you?" "More than your tiny-ass dick." The classic comeback. "Bet half your check flies in the purse of those dockside whores. The only way a chick'll even give that twig a second glance." By now I smelled more than ocean spray, or the chicken queso fumes from from next door; his musk was goddamn putrid, like he took Lent and gave up showers. It only made me that much happier I'd get to lay his ass out. "S'why you drink like a fish. Gotta find some way to forget you couldn't please a dwarf pygmy." The last winnin' straw. His left fist reared back like a catapult, and I saw the fangs bare. Funny enough, he sniffed like a prizefighter, but if he'd also had the form I doubt I'd be standin' here today. My speed came through again, sidling my gut to the left, so his calloused knuckles whizzed to my right; close enough to put a wrinkle in my shirt. Goddamnit, it was on, an' I did more than evade... Hoppin' back a few paces, while he swung around to give me that look; the one like he tried to set me on fire with sheer will. And while he pulled that number, I grabbed a fistful o' tank top on each side, and yanked it up offa me. Somethin' else I'd never forget; when I did, and tossed it through the air like a Frisbee, just the way he shuddered a bit. Either he sucked at gauging build behind clothes, or he just wasn't ready to face the fact of me. I could say the next few things were a blur, but that's not all-true; at least more than what a few malts had fuzzied upstairs. I know I threw the next punch, and he jumped back just quick enough to make the miss-count 2 to 1. He'd almost shuffled to dodge; and though I hadn't hit him, the light from neon signs was a different story. They bathed his core in green and orange, and damn, it just couldn't be ignored. I still dunno how he'd built all that - without the town's finest personal trainer - but for the li'l instant he stopped, gnashing teeth and spewin' hot clouds from behind them, a twinkle inched down by his heart. One drop of sweat, just big enough for gravity. It trickled through crevices, a narrow path laid out by the muscle it slinked over. We'd barely got into it, but he found a way to distract me; intimidation, or so everything in me wanted to believe. But back to the fray, in one eye's blink. He charged at me, dirty jeans rustling, and fuck if he didn't catch my dumb ass off-guard. It was like an explosion, hand-sized and straight for my gut, and the force went right from that to my limbs. Feet 'n' hands just flew forward, or that's how it seemed; reality was I shot backwards like a livin' bullet. Still don't know how no one heard that crash, it left a fuckin' dent in the dumpster, and sprawled me on the ground like the shirt I'd crumpled. Maybe if he hadn't stopped to laugh, he'da won; that's the sound that revved me, put a spark in my brain that shot me to my feet, wheezing but steady. As fast as I could rise, he leapt at me; but the prick wouldn't fool me twice. So he loved his fist, or using it; so I grabbed it mid-swing and just pulled. Wish like hell somebody'd been there with a camera... I'd love to see just how it looked when I swung him like a bat. He cruised right by, and pivoting to still face my way he could only come down runnin' backwards. It lasted all of half a second; then balance kicked in, and swept him down to the asphalt. Hit like a rock, and God help me if I'm lyin', I saw his head bounce. I'd like to think I'm honourable, sometimes; I gave him the chance to lean up, stand and rub it like a wuss. When his hand came away, I mighta seen a faint shade of red, but in this pub-'hood lighting I couldn't be sure. Unlike the look of his jeans; they showed a fresh set of holes on the side, up by his hip, and while he retried the fist-pound mantra somethin' new stole my focus. Where the denim was torn, I could see some bun, a damn-sight softer than the rest of him; meaty, and shakin' with his motion. Right here's where it gets a bit clearer; I still hear the words in my head. 'Fuck... Why d' my pants feel tighter...' My head shook to toss away the thought. Every up-facin' inch of him from scalp-to-knees shone in the neon, with the rest under his own huge shadow. He stepped towards me in a li'l side-to-side; Goddamn drunk steamroller. My eyes had been on his face, and that sneer, but now they sank lower. His pecs were still like nothin' I'd ever seen, hard orbs the size of basketballs; and exposed in the night breeze, two nips poked hard from their pink ovals. I couldn't think of much to say; not with the crusty denim on my thighs pullin' upwards by a knob up top. "Y-yeah, come at me. G'on, embarrass yourself." A smirk deepened the lines on his face; so my stutter wasn't all that subtle. "Losin' your nerve, I see. Well that's a cool side dish for ribs... Broken ones-" This time there was no rearing back; he just piston-ed straight into a blow, aimed for my chest. But now I had some ammo; time enough to see how he moved. My hand shot up open, catching his in half-swing, holding both still in the air. The smirk turned into a grimace, and while his fist relaxed, I saw in his eyes that I'd just put him in bastard-mode. The other five knuckles made a beeline for my chin; I countered with a sock to his wrist, and his arm skewed away. He shook it for the sharp new ache, and I'm sure he thought that'd distract me. So he leaned back and sent a firm left kick toward my shin; I caught it with a block, thwartin' him at every turn. I soon knew he wasn't used to a challenge; I had him in a fuckin' roar, spit flying from his teeth to my collarbone, while priming another wound-up punch. Now he just went dirty... It shot for my windpipe, a killin' blow. A dive and knuckle-blow to his forearm took care of that. He saved the worst, and stupidest, for last; I saw the neon brighten, as he dipped and revealed a sign for beer behind him. A right cross headed straight for my Johnson... This one connected, but only with my thigh. Before I could even think about it, and rip his fuckin' nose off for a stunt like that, I just bent down, picked him up by the pits and piledrove his ass. At first, I thought I heard a sickening *crack*, the kind worth about twenty years in San Quentin. But he fell less-than-limp, and from where his scalp hit the ground I saw the brand-new fissure in the tarmac. It figured; guy had such a hard head, it would be easier to break the pavement. But now, he'd fell away from me. I stared down, just to make sure he wasn't packin' a surprise; an' all the beer in the world couldn't cloud my mind enough to not remember every single thing. His ears were closest to me, an inch or so from my feet, a few fur strands trailing paths in the moisture on their leather. His nose and whiskers were all the face I saw... Below it, his chest lay so thick 'n' high it screamed for audience, heavin' up and down with his lungs. The abs were angled to the light, shaded like an oil painting, but I think I dwelled on them the least. 'Cause a hand's length further, with all that green 'n' orange poured on like a spotlight, I got a look for just how well he filled out that fly. Fuck me, it was a mountain... With how tight the rest of his jeans, this was three times more, easily. Now I've been around, seen guys who looked like him that were surefire bodybuilders; and the restroom bars where I'd find myself peein' next to one, pretty often their best assets sat above the waist, if you get me. But this was no bullshit; even if he wore a cup and two pairs o' briefs underneath, he'd still be packin' way more than 'surprise'. After what I'd guess was ten seconds, I saw his legs move. It took their thick muscle's blockin' out the spotlight, before I snapped back to reality. Feelin' what I did, I had to look down while he stumbled up. Over the sound of his shuffling, I just spent a good gaze on my own inseam... An' it bulged so tight on the fabric, I could feel the pulse carried to my ass. I'm sure he made some noise, shuffling back and rubbing his forehead. But while he said hi to stars 'n' birds, all I heard was THROB. THROB. THROB. And with it restricted like that, I might even'a felt the kind of pain he did, upstairs. He showed his back, dazed enough that I had plenty of time before he even knew I was behind him. It was a done deal by now; while he muttered "Damn tiger, can't even stay and finish like a man," I studied every nook in his lumbars, all the hard-as-rock flesh below his shoulder blades. I doubt it'd ever stop confoundin' the hell outta me, how fast I turned to that nature; God, it was like a door'd been opened in my mind, leadin' straight to my dick. He was on the mend, and with his stumble goin' steady, I caught that sight that broke the bank. So now I knew why the split had been so loud, when I laid him low; it was more than asphalt. The rip in his jeans looked twice as wide... And right where it had to be, for every inch of his left cheek to just billow out in view. And to its side, half-out and half-still-modestly-tucked, was that deep, straight crack. Why even try to say I didn't groan, in this copper bass... Anyone around prob'ly heard it for a mile. The way he whipped around, daggers in those baby blues, I thought for sure he'd call me on it. I'm glad I was wrong; instead, he grabbed me at the haunches and pushed, 'til I was squeezed between him and the dumpster. That pile o' cold metal was the only thing around besides us, so lookin' back now, I'm sure he just wanted somewhere he could pin me. With his head leanin' in, and mine back in half-limbo towards the street, it was the first I'd seen his face above mine. And holy fuckin' Christ... That first moment, where he stood up against me. The memory's so sharp, every part of it just wrapped up together. A whiff o' pasta from the kitchen behind us; soft southern blues patterin' from the steakhouse it served. Chilled steel, hard on the small o' my back, with an ache for bein' shoved into it. But all just atmosphere around what held me. I can't count how many times I've spilled blood in that kinda scene, mine or someone else's. But this was no such thing; with his breath on my nose, his huge biceps keepin' me right where he wanted. I'd lost, for damn-certain, just due to his strength; but I didn't even give it a notion, with what was goin' on downstairs. Two denim bulges pushed their crusty mass together; and as stiff as that unwashed knit, dank with sweat an' sea spray, what lay beneath mine was ten times stiffer. First time in my life I saw a sneer right in my face and didn't care. Not when I only saw the wrinkles around it, showin' age, and through that his experience. Maybe that's what hooked me; or made sure that while his right hand rose, it didn't come down on my throat like it could've. Two short seconds, and while he froze I watched his rage just dissipate. That brown-furred chin dropped like a rock, his jaw with it, and I knew he knew. My dick was in a bind, of the best-worst kind... Harder than the trash bin, hot inside my pants, and crowdin' his. He had to feel it, or he wouldn't look down... Prob'ly pushed on his tool every pulse, the way he'd pushed me. So my control just flew the coop; I stared above, knowin' I lusted for his shirtless muscle, to feel its warmth and his power. And all the while, right up against his crotch, THROB. THROB. THROB. I couldn't bring myself to look in his eyes, but I still knew without even seein' em. Got no idea just how long I'da been in that trance, if I hadn't heard the low 'n' quiet question. "Th'... Th' hell is that?" Less him really askin' than it sounded... I think that's called 'rhetorical'. And goin' by the tone, he was still pissed, but more tamped under a shitload o' shock. And the stuff I can spout, when I'm distracted. "It's... Well... It's... A jockstrap?" Yeah, nobody's buyin' that. A 40-year-old man, at a whiskey joint; never mind how I couldn'ta said it more sheepish. Plus - I'm sure he knew - jockstraps don't course with hot fluid heartbeats. One fist of his still clenched me; and I just stood there, all too aware how he could demolish me in seconds. I expected it; I'm the rare exception with those late-awakened man's men, who spent half a lifetime refusin' myself; never had that 'gay panic' rear its ugly head. But I'd seen it all the time, every place where chick-chasers congregate; somethin' as simple as a dumb joke could turn into a fight to prove who's straighter. Yeah, I knew the story that night, and he won. So all that mattered, was would he take findin' out the same as I did. Maybe it's my retard-mouth that made him crack a smile; maybe just the fact I couldn't hope to deny it. His pecs were under self-shade, and bounced like the balls they resembled with that first rising chortle. From there it led to chuckles, and before I even knew I was relieved, every inch of his core heaved with deep, hearty laughs. 'Course, my eyes never left it; and somethin' about amusing him put me at enough ease to think again. I must be the world's quickest horndog; the first and only thing on my mind, was wantin' to take a hand and just feel it. A real man's brawn, more cut than even mine, and all I knew was the crave to run my hand across it. If shit'd gone different - if Junior down there hadn't shown him my admiring - he still coulda crushed me into tiger-dust. That power, I thought with my tongue pokin' out; I wanna rub on every side o' the proof. So now I finally glanced back to his face, finding a smile, and not seein' the grudge from just a few breaths before. One tooth poked out on his lower lip, and fuck if that didn't win me more for some reason. I caught a streetlamp's glow in his eyes; smelled the Jager on his breath, as he leaned the tiniest bit closer. Just enough to show confidence; just enough to make me sigh as I felt more of his body heat. Shuffling filled my ears, the sound of our boots edgin' up together. One last look from me, lower; his nipples were still nice 'n' firm. Always what I went for with the females, every week from age sixteen to then; so I could still have my cake and suc-... EAT it too. His pitch was so goddamn silky... But strong and smug as any time before. "So, I bagged myself a fruit-in-disguise." Another upward nod on the f-word, for feeling... This one I didn't mind a bit. "Shit, the clues were all there... Y' fight like a bitch, and the way you took off that shirt-" He acted like he cut himself short; I'm sure he thought he'd get to me by dissin' my combat. Well... Joke's on him. "Yeah, looks like I wanted you b'fore my head even caught on." It was pure lust, molded into words... He had my neck arched, abs quiverin', feet cold for all the blood hogged in my pecker. And as fuckin' hard as I'd got, it'd take bein' out-cold not to feel what I did. His tanukihood, hugged tight in those jeans, startin' to grow and crowd mine. I'd say he looked about as shocked as me. What're the odds... Two guys like us, bustin' outta the closet hand-in-hand... Enough to make you wonder what's up with all the other swingin' dicks in these bars. So he'd laughed it off, that much relieved me, to the point I'd risked it 'n' baited him. But the way he watched it, just as tense as before... The breath-fog shot out his nostrils, hard and in a huff. I daresay he wasn't un-pissed, and as he leaned back, snatchin' me by the wrist, I looked to be pretty right. He yanked me up like a tissue from the box; I heard the grunt, and saw a smile joined with a scowl. I went vertical on weak knees... Our packages had about two seconds to 'breathe', before they shoved right back into each other. He still held tight to my cuff, and with the other wrinkled hand, slid a hold on the back of my neck. It pushed me closer, and though my jaw relaxed and eyes grew to the size of baseballs, I still broke through with a thought. So he wanted a kiss, it looked like. Movin' kinda fast, or so it echoed in my head like some ol' modest belle. Our noses flattened together, and I guess my tongue jumped the gun, a mite beyond the part of my lips. But once he started talkin', and broke the news I wouldn't be tastin' him, it darted back in plenty-fast. "What you want is to have yerr ass tore up even worse." The acid flowed in every word. "It ain't bad enough your mouth's bigger'n my arms. Now I come to find out it sucks cock, and likes it." I knew why I couldn't bicker, no care if I'd never done the deed. There was the sliver o' hope, with how he'd phrased it, that I'd get to show if I could. His dick throbbed in time with mine, hard enough that he had to feel the same... And givin' me a preview of his size. Nothin' could break my honour quicker, and get me in mind to serve a man like him. 'Course it's all so much faster in person... About the same as his fingers, movin' offa me and makin' air-tracks for my gut. His palms were flat-parallel to my abs, and for a split second the arm veins bulged, before I took my second shove that night. This time I fell away from the bin, tumblin' to the shadows far back from the street. He'd sank enough force that I rolled, end-to-end a full revolution. Speed ran out the second my legs went high; so with my head and upper back on the cold pavement, feet above my head and ass in the air, I just teetered there with gravity. And he didn't even gimme the chance... Before I could relax, and let myself down, I heard his boots ahead o' me. Fucker ran to my position, and before my second sputterin' gasp, I was was snatched by both ankles, blood rushin' to my head like it had to my other one. I struggled to look past my own whiskers, at the dark brown face lordin' over me. I still saw the power, but it wasn't rage; recognized the scowl, but it wasn't a foe's. His grin's what put it all in context... That, and knowin' my cheeks were prob'ly right around hip-height. My dick was a good bit softer from the travel, but I saw just low enough on him to frame those pecs... It did the job, and Junior grew thick down to my navel, with my ears takin' more of his vocal jabs. "See, you're just a bitch through 'n' through." He squeezed my left ankle, but the other went free; and I saw his shoulder move, with its hand hid behind my right limb. "Y' know what happens to queers like you, here?" His grip on my ankle started pain; and with my eyes half-closed for a wince, it took a spell to think about the zipper I heard. Or maybe I just didn't care; it was pretty easy to see I'd put 'im right where both of us wanted him. His one-leg hold went tighter, while he stared over me like the head of a prison gang, sizing up the new walkin' cumsleeve. That spark, while he looked down through the shadows... I knew he admired how he'd bested me, long before he spoke it. "So, y'can't even field a question. You're just no kinda man at all, are ya?" I couldn't see much more than the white of his eyes; and how they darted lower, right about where my bulge would hang. "I bet you even stuff down there." He had me so fuckin' hot I couldn't think straight, but I still knew when lines'd been crossed. "That's a bet y'd lose. 'N if you don't believe me..." I loved just to say it, "... Peel these off 'n' see for yourself." I shook myself a tad below the waist, just to show the jeans were inferred. He chuckled, and I just had to growl... My ankle was squeezed so hard, I felt it in the bone. But there wasn't resentment; if only for the might in his mumble. "You're so goddamn sure... Well you got shit to learn besides respect." So his hand loosened offa my leg. Not for kindness; it was only to more easily lower me, my feet slidin' from his shoulders to around his gut. And then it went tight again, just in time for me to barely notice. I felt pressure right below my sack, and though I knew what it was, I couldn't help but watch past my own rock-hard mountain. I couldn't blame this on the lights, or how he just perched himself on top o' me while his left hand shot to his fly. That package was more than huge, more than 'massive' would do justice, pushin' into my nuts. I'm sure it hurt, but I don't even remember... Not with those thick brown fingers diving in the crease, and even in the dark, clearly havin' a time to try and pull out somethin' that heavy. Y' might have to bear with me here, there's just no words for that feeling. When your head's half-swimmin' from gravity, dick already throbbin' so hard you feel it in your ears, and then you get to see a dick like that just waterfall over the fabric. Ten heavy inches. Thick as a coffee mug, foreskin flowin' up the head to give it the 'sock'. And all that mass, not even hard. I dunno how, but if he'd been half as turned on as me, he tamped it back down. What I do know was why, just from how his teeth shined in the neon. He already knew he had me beat, and by such a fuckin' mile. But he wanted me to watch it wake up, and grow. He slid that hand underneath, and pushed up, bouncin' it like the monster it was. My lungs coughed out a gasp, and every muscle in my core tensed hard. "F-fuuuck, that's..." is all I could mutter. I couldn't even feel myself throb anymore... My dick was in a spasm that just wouldn't end. And so his did go up, slow and pulsin' while it worked to fill all that veiny flesh... But my ass went down, while he let me even lower. Right then I felt a scrape above my crack, like something rubbin'em, but his cock stood too high to be blamed. So he dropped me inch by inch, 'til I could see what I'd felt. And if I mighta gasped at seein' his tool, it was a full-out groan when I got to lay eyes on the nuts. I mean... How d'ya classify two volleyballs. Never, in my four-'n'-some-odd decades on this Earth, would I think a sack could get that big. He was one hell of a first, but I've since had experience... I know how a pumped pecker looks, what saline injections give the coin purse that you can't mistake on-sight. So lookin' back, it's that fuckin' sure to me that he did neither. Total-gigantic, all-natural, and that look he wore knew it. I stared for I don't know how long, in a sort of trance while he stopped bouncin' himself and started unbuttoning my jeans; and then up into the grisled face of pride, and age, and power, while he peeled the denim off me, down my legs slow 'n' smooth. He had me helpless, and if I'd known, a bit scared for what he'd do with all that size. And if it's even possible - with him lobbin' away my jeans to bunch on the brick wall - he loved it more than I did. "Ready to wail, bitch?" He chewed every word like steak; instead of goin' back to bouncin' that beast, he wrapped his hand to stroke it. I had to trill a li'l murmur o' shock... He couldn't even meet the fingers around it. "Sure hope so." "N-" I hiccuped, just for how hard I was breathin'. "Nobody's ready for that, y'... You..." "G'wan, you can say it..." He went back to bouncin' it, but by now he was hard; not flappin', but swingin' like a Louisville slugger. "...'Lucky bastard'. It's what'cha had in mind, right?" His head was the size o' my fist, in that fleshy hood. I felt him hit it on my gooch; that was good for a few strong whines. But not half as loud as when he smacked it higher, and my eyes went wide 'n' watering. I had a ten-pound cock knockin' my balls like apples in a hose-bag. To this day, I'll never get why no one heard me, those first few screams. Or his low laughin', while he sank right into my torment. It was done just to break me; I don't know how long he'da gone on, bashin' me with that killer cock, if I hadn't yelped for mercy. But it got him to relax, even if he held tight on my leg and lifted me back up. My teeth ground on each other, and while he just let his monster lay, draped over my crotch, I got a hold o' myself and looked down. Two slits set in view between my thighs. One that ended my eight-'n'-a-half weapon, slick and stone-firm from its tiger base. The other just shamin' it, mufflin' its throbs, with fourteen hard, fat inches of man. So much to even think about... I was a rock down there, in three kinds o' pain, cold on the ground an' hot between my legs... And Goddamn, I was jealous. He even had better veins... While mine were spindly and wrapped like picture twine, his were a fuckin' web, each about the girth of cord that ties the boats down Shoal Avenue. I watched 'em pump through that beast, while I felt it crushin' me beneath. The cackle I heard was half-ego, and half-a clue of what he had in store; I don't doubt he caught on to how I wanted it. He had me steady, right where his cock lined up with mine. I swallowed a mouthful, with it waterin' like it was, while my neck rolled a bit on the asphalt. He was pushin' me, slow and in pure control. His dick slid down my balls, pushin' them apart by nothin' more than his girth; and while I hummed to stop myself yelpin', he rest that glans on the tip o' my crack. All I heard was "Mmmmm", deep and rumbling. Bastard prob'ly admired himself, or the difference with me, right before he pulled me back in. It took one full rep for me to know what went on... Mostly since it had me moanin' like the dock whores. He slid that tank o' meat on my sack, and up the base of my cock, just fuckin' the split o' my cheeks. Only my layin' on my asphalt kept my head from tilting back, in a geyser o' groans, my fingers twitchin' with a new world of pleasure. He felt every bit as thick as he was, spreadin' my buns so wide I could tell the stretch on both sides. Pain, and the heat o' that monster, his body and friction. Every swing, his nuts hit my upper crack with a li'l 'clap'... The only thing 'little' to do with them, I managed to think, while he teased me with growin' butch glee. The slide went slow, so it was easy as pie to keep him leerin' at me stable and smooth. "Not bad, slut. Nice 'n' tight with some beef in that caboose... Almost call it an honour to rip an ass like this." Right then came the first hard thrust, all-but-chafin' the low point o' my split... Well, how I was layin' I guess it'd be the highest. But like I'd care about phrasin'; not with him takin' me like that, foreplay with a purpose, easin' my rear to spread like it'd have to. Like I knew he'd be makin' it... No man on Earth warms a pair o' cheeks like that, and don't follow by takin' the hole it hides. I'm still glad I could look up an' watch... Or that he'd ensured I could. Either way, I watched his fuckin' ogre of a dick just roll above mine, with my sack as the pivot point, to where those fourteen inches towered and put mine in darkness. Starin' like I did, I saw the very second a shine grew out out of it, one clear drop wellin' on the lip of his foreskin. By now he stayed in a sneer; those built arms more tense than he'd need to hold me up. Wasn't hard to know what it meant; he couldn't hold himself back, and had no cause to try. A sneer it mighta been, but placed over a smirk clear as day, while he edged back away from me. Last I saw was his ringtail whippin' a frenzy, dartin' to each side of his all-muscle core, before my eyes just ordered themselves closed. He slipped down my balls, across the skin over m' prostate, and I felt that foreskin wedge in my crack as it slid to 'bout midway. Right where it belonged... And quick as he'd started, the tease was fuckin' over. Pain of your balls gettin' whacked ain't shit; not when a head the size of a snow globe pushes on your asshole, no lube, no prep, and gets shoved so hard your body's got no choice but to open around it. I made a sound like I was calving. Facts were pretty much the opposite. My stomach was a goddamn tarp in a windstorm, my arms lifted and slammed the concrete like bird wings. The night was cool, but my fur wicked with sweat... And through it all, he laughed like a demon, shovin' into me. There wasn't one fuckin' cell of him that cared for my pleasure; Whatever he wanted, however much he'd have to torture me, I was there to get his rocks off. This I knew more'n anything... This gave me words, despite the gasping 'n' agony. "OhhhhGod you're.. You're a fuckin' missile..." I did all I could to make it sound enticin'... From my bones, I craved to make this worth my pain for him. He'd pushed seven in... Just half his endowment, and already my hole'd never be the same. Thick tanuki manhood like a keg o' hot flesh, lightin' me with pain every atom it moved, noisy while it made that dry slide. I'm shocked I didn't kick out 'n' bean him in the head... But he filled me so wide, it's like I lost touch with everything further'n my thighs. They draped below his shoulder blades, thicks limbs on even wider, stronger shelf, while my ass so helplessly took him... And he laugh-groaned near as loud as I shrieked. "Ogghhahhahhh... Can't hardly stand it, can y'... Unghhnmhmnnhh, THIS is what real size can do." He either loved the diff like me, or he could tell I got into that. I gargled spit, my bod in so much pain it took force just to swallow, while that fucker pushed his blessing slow 'n' pleased. "Now yerr gonna show me..." He grunted, pushin' inch ten in my pucker and hikin' up the tone to show he meant it, "Urrghgh... How a manslut like you takes a beatin'." Yeah, I thought, beatin' up that cave. It hurt like hell, but he had me hooked in, and I hinged on every second. So I figured - while I lay upended, croonin' moans an' gettin' this black cherry demolished - he just meant exactly that. A wave o' pain arced me toes-to-nose, with him forcin' inch twelve and just startin' to slick inside my gut with pre. I'd been gettin' used to the ache, enough that I stifled more yells. All that changed in the moment where one eye crept open. In time to see him ball his free fist; and send it flyin' to the side o' my dick, his knuckles dishing my hardon like a sandbag. My back arched like the jog of an inchworm. A pain I'd never known, while my shaft swung like a metronome. Goosebumps grew down my arms; soaked in sweat, chilled by the air. Thick brawn kept my neck and back from goin' weak, after a move like that an' how I lay heels-up... But with the guy who had me, an' his gargantuan dick pumpin' slow-but-hard, I sure as hell felt anything but strong. I stopped swayin' down below, and relaxed my spine right as he spoke. "Yeah, just what you deserve. Ah don't think you get just how pitiful you are-" His knuckles raked me on the other side... It only hurt worse for how goddamn hard I was throbbin'. "-So your ass's gettin' schooled... Unnghyeh... An' by a man this better." Every thrust he leaned in harder, 'til he had my shoulders roll like a rockin' chair. Reamin' me with a tool so huge it felt like a third leg breachin' me. "Yeh, you know y' can't match this... You got all the - rrrngh - show you need, up that tight li'l hole..." He wrapped a hand on my boner, and squeezed; I pulsed like fire in his fingers. "An' a few good knocks on this runt." He chuckled through a groan. "Gawd, that's cute... An' I got'chou so hard it's almost like you could use that peewee." I had to bicker; any man would. But with my ass hurtin' so good, and my dick just bastin' his palm with pre, there's no way I sounded like I meant it. "I'm... Not... Small..." "Yeah..." He grunted, like he was admittin' it while he hit his base to my buns, "You kin please the workin' girls here, I guess. But you ever have one more'n once?" My eyes flew open. My jaw flew shut, clinchin' to take up the slack in withstanding'im. I had to say it through my teeth. "N-...No..." "Heh, knew 'z much..." He paused to snarl... Either my hole or his size were gettin' him there. "... An' there's a reason. I put a whole new spin on... Urrhh... Sloppy seconds." He pulled hand away to sock me near the helmet; I watched it flush red, under a clear coat. "Some'd see me, 'n' try to say they're worn out from a long night... Just nervous as hell. An' b'fore long, they don't know what hit 'em." Goddamn... So he made it a ritual to go an' ruin those sluts. Now it made more sense, why I always saw new faces here local: high rate o' turnover. He made 'em useless to any prick after him. Maybe other guys'd feel sorry for the gals; maybe others still'd be pissed. But I just moaned a sigh, with my dick as rock-hard as it's ever been my whole stinkin' life. He had such fuckin' power... And if I couldn't have it for myself, I'd have it the next best way; usin' me 'til I knew it in-and-out. Heh, puns. "Fuuu-u-uk," I stammered, almost droolin' out the corner of my lips. "You-... You know the blessin' you got." "Got-damn right..." He leered from the bottom of his lungs, with his face even sweatier than mine an' locked in full grin. "And you're learnin' it fast. I'll stretch you even worse'n those bitches." "W-why not..." It was so hard just to speak; he hit my cave harder every second, with my nuts rollin' through his pube fur. "I'm nothin' more... Just another... Bitch, to be... Put in m' place..." I heard him laugh, an' not the kind for somethin' funny. But it sounded far off, an' as I came to notice so did the music, the rare car down the street, everythin' else, like I heard 'em all through the far end of a storm drain. I'd been on my head too long, and was fadin' fast. I'm just glad he saw my head tilt, or if I looked as woozy as I was. Next thing I knew, I felt both my ass a lot less tight an' his hand on my back, liftin' my bod half-limp while he put me rough on my feet. And not glad 'cuz I think it'd be bad to fall out... I did enough o' that just from too much rum. I knew the real reason, even while he seized me by the shoulders an' pushed my groggy ass up to a brick wall, gut-first. I didn't wanna miss a damn thing; and while I came back to senses, and had his hands nest over my abs, the shove back into my hole woke me right the fuck up. Pretty easy to... This time he slid that monster up 'n' in three times faster. My forehead hit the bricks, soft an' cool enough to keep the scream at bay. Fuck me, this time it was even harder; both the pain of him skewerin' my ass on that monster, and my dick pressed up against the wall, a hot sword on dank chilly cinders. The warmth o' my own lungfog flowed over me from eyes to chin... I was like a sound clip o' manporn put on endless repeat. Huge tanuki arms cuffed my washboard, so tight it changed how I breathed. He put everythin' he had in those thrusts; railin' me hard with every beerkeg-inch. There was never a second it could slip my mind just how big he was; like I was fucked by a hot deli stick of salami. At least now the pre'd had time to work itself around him... Didn't take away the ache, but it sure smoothed out the ride. Speakin' of pre, I think it's clear by now I was havin' my fun; I looked once to see a thick trail oozin' down the bricks under my sack, while it shook with him poundin' me. "Take it, boy... Fuckin' plaything for a real man..." He slid to a moan, and slid the fourteen-incher deep between my thick cheeks. "... Gawd your ass is hard, 'n' still kinda tight... Yerr just MADE for gettin' plowed, ain'tcha... RRrrgghhnn..." I don't have the words.... Like there's a good way to say when you want someone ten times more just 'cuz you have 'em. But with his mouth by my ears, leerin' that ego straight to my brain, I did the best I could. "I'm... Sure... If you got me... So fuckin'... Hard for you tearin' up my hole... I gotta be... Made f'ra hoss like you..." I knew he wanted to hear it; but not as much as I'd wanted speakin' it. His knees bent into the back o' mine; he knew the reach-around like clockwork. I wasn't his first dick to humble, an' by a long shot it looked like. I dunno if I'da had the strength right then to say more; with him shankin' my hole like a pornstar, just humblin' the fuck outta me, I didn't try. It was fine just to stand an' take it; with my hands, head 'n' manhood pushed to the wall, bare above my boots like him; havin' a stronger, bigger man use me like a born-'n'-bred whore... Fuck, I'm stiff just rememberin'. Still, not half as stiff as when he said more o' what I loved to hear, his pecs 'n' stomach hot on my back. "Fuckin' right, boy... Mmnngh... Y'd never be a man around this... Not when y' can just... Look down and see why..." He pounded even harder; so fuckin' strong he almost rocked me into the wall. I moaned while I thought on every word; and that went higher, when he moved a hand to hit my dick some more, punchin' it half up my length. "Gawd-damn you're less than me... Sure we're both glad I don't have one that small." Another crash from his knuckles; on my pecker, but this time more from above, and my whole body lurched as one stoned-up tiger dong struggled to bend. From there he lay those palms on my sides, just another way to show control. So good at makin' me love it, and even through his groans he never stumbled with th' hot-as-hell narration. "You evennnghgn... FEEL anythin' down there when you blast?" It came broken an' wavy; he fucked my hole so deep my abs shuddered on the buildin'. I didn't take it as a question, not a real one, and either way I didn't wanna talk if I could just stand and give it up. But he told me quick he meant to be answered; with that same fist, only this time crackin' hard on my jawbone. "HEY, just 'cuz you're fuckin' pitiful don't mean y' can't hear." My head swam again. I lost count how many kinds o' pain he'd gave me; but I couldn't hate a damn one. I made a way to speak, while he fucked all the force outta my lungs. "I... Can't... Not a damn thing... Like you..." I'd never sounded more like a weak, willowy chick. And I'd never made a real one sound anythin' close to how he made me. "Yeeaaahh, y' fuckin' know..." His pleasure made velvet o' that voice. "But y'rr... Too slow. Y'already pissed me off..." His gaspin' let up, right about when he eased the work on my rear. The speed was gone, but the pain kept right on. "So I got a job ferr you t' earn back my graces." It confused me, yeah, why he'd just take five, an' what I mighta done. His hands pushed into my haunches, just to pull me back from the wall, while he slid that weapon outta my cheeks. Between that 'n' the chill, I shivered; even for a time after he laid hands on my shoulders and brought me down. Bastard knew how to work; he got me to turn with my drop, so when my knees said hi to the pavement, I was starin' straight on the prize. Right below my nose; to where the smell o' dick, and pre, and my own raw hole just drifted right in. S'why my tigerhood was so goddamn hard it bounced on its own, the head shinin' orange in our ambience. But the sight - that fuckin' forty-sized member in my face, pumpin' blood through every thick-as-hell inch - well... My feet writhed on the ground, just from loss o' control. He didn't give a shit; I knew from how he sounded, belchin' orders down from on-high, right where he belonged. "So you're good 'n' broke in. But you ain't worked for the privelege." All the while, I had to watch his trophy just taunt me while it pulsed. I couldn't say which turned me on-er; the fact I was servin' a cock that size, or the fact he had one that huge an' I didn't. Prob'ly split the difference, I'd think, since both filled my mind while he reached a hand down t' cup his base. His hips leaned in, and right off I learned how it felt to have a dick that heavy smackin' me right above the snout. I wailed like the biggest slut in town - Technically, I was - with his other palm movin' to the back o' my neck. He kept on with that a while; stampin' me with that monster right between the eyes. And from what he said next, all the doubt was gone that he knew just how I took humiliation. "Yeeaaahh, I'mma mark you hard. Fuckin' brand'jrr faggot mug with this monster, like you ain't never doin' yourself." I can just hope I showed him what I felt; the butch streak of a guy like me, stirred into all that subby whine. "The... Fuckin' truth, man..." Every pause, I gasped; it stole my breath right outta me. "You got no idea... So damn jealous... You undeservin' shit..." I thought the last part'd be a bit less liked. I was right, lookin' up past his meat to see a mighty clear scowl. "Say what, y' sorry fruit?" He slapped that dick on me harder, to where I blinked every time. It'd take just the right words to bring'im back around. Lucky for me, I had 'em. "... Just sayin'... NOBODY can earn a dick that huge..." I musta grinned like a world-class douchebag; it was time to make the sale. "... But it ain't earned... Just given." So the scowl dropped to nothin', and as he let his cock rest - right on the bridge o' my nose, where it could just warm the low fuzz while it throbbed - there grew the smirk I wanted from above. "Yehh, to me. An' the only way it's gonna go to YOU-" He leaned his hips back, and right forward again; the fresh stamp on my face took a slow, hot rub. "-Is in." I coulda wished the rub went longer; it sure as fuck felt good enough to draw some whispered moans. But I can't complain for what replaced it. One last time for his crotch to lean far back, and drop his skin-wrapped head off the tip o' my nose. For part of a second, I got the biggest, purest whiff o' man... An' I'm glad it opened my maw like a trap. Just all the quicker for him to step closer, his boots shufflin' below us, while he kept hold o' that monster by the root. Nice 'n' level, right how it should be for him to force it through my lips, and down the bumps on my tongue. Mother o' God, the taste was just instant; and what I'd smelled before didn't do it a damn bit o' justice. His head raked my tongue, bringin' the blend of pre, musk, and my own punished asshole; all with a glaze o' sweat. Made my eyes roll back in my head, while he pushed that helmet past my wide-afeld teeth. It even shocked me that I could reign in my eyes, with the rim of his head already givin' my lips a challenge. But they rolled back forward, just so I could take him in above me. And no still from a camera could ever be as sharp as this memory; the bulge of every muscle on his core, from a stomach harder than the bricks behind me, to that pair o' mountains by his shoulders, endin' in dark, supple ovals, pokin' out hard like they wanted in on the fun of his cock. His teeth beamed the green 'n' orange, and in those baby blues I saw nothin' but moxie; I can't say how it looked when he'd had me on the wall, poundin' my chute wide as a water line, but I saw it then. A fuckin' Greek god of a man, stacked like Hercules, hung like Priapus, kingly as Zeus, all in hot, moist furry package. Towerin' over me, takin' my mouth to do just what he wanted. Already hot as hell to know I'd get to; ten times hotter, to know he was just too strong for me to have a choice. So I gave the best I could, a novice like me. Felt the strain on my chops while he shoved it past the head; and I clamped down to suck with all I had. My eyebrows peaked, and my gut went still from holdin' my breath; havin' him break in my maw like he had my star, but now to taste the work while it invaded me... A guy can't help but whine, even if it's all-but-silent by the same huge tool he fights to serve. Fightin' his own lips, and how elastic they aren't. Fightin' thirty-nine years of never thinkin' you'd find yourself like this, but once you do, lettin' all that bottled time just guide you to what you wanted all along. Only four of his inches in so far, but it took three just to make it past the head... And with his girth comin' up on its widest, the corner o' my lips came as close as they ever have to tearing. His sound started low; a pleased grumble when I put on the suction. But while he fed me more, an' I took him like a thirsty man takes water, It ramped up to groans, raspy an' rough like a bellow. I'd barely got goin', and already he sounded like me near my peak... But he didn't move like a man about to shoot. So either I was that good - an' I knew a first-time gobbler just couldn't be - or I heard the effect of feelin' it through all that fat length. The hand on my neck pushed me forward; the other one left his root, and moved to cup his balls. With another groan, he gave me the shock o' the night... A thrust just like what he'd used to claim my ass, but straight down my gullet, takin' him from inch four to eleven. Those thick brown thighs grazed my shoulders, bendin' around me; an' all the sound I could make was "GHHRHKK," strainin' to handle that much meat, thinkin' of anything besides the fresh gag. All my strength that didn't go into suckin' that uncut titan, went to keepin' me from wincing. I wanted to keep eyes on his face; I wanted to see every clue of just how I fuckin' pleased a man like him. He stood loose, neck angled down, lookin' back through the top of his sockets... So goddamn smug 'n' controlling, it hurt my dick to throb that fuckin' hard. I ate that shit up, with his monster shaft pluggin' my wails. But I got too cocky, and leaned back far enough to tongue-bat the head; lost in a moment of hunger, not aware when his palm left my neck. Two seconds later, BAM. Four knuckles, right on my cheek. "Back down an' harder, y' small sunuvabitch." He made it sound so real, even with a grin, while I ignored the sharp new ache. "You ain't on a field trip, get with it. An' ya got enough half-assed beef to where y' can at LEAST put some strength into suckin'." I listened and obeyed, spearin' myself back to that eleventh inch; he went on with a lot less rage, an' a lot more moan. "Yeeaahhh, like the... Guzzler you are... Oohn-nghgh... Fuckin' earn your drink, boy..." I'd be doin' just that. With him crowdin' my tongue, pitchin' my jaw wider'n any big cat's was meant to go, I sucked through the soreness. Seemed like every end o' my body was in some kinda pain, an' all because of him... Even when I slobbed that giant knob, the stripes o' my hands wrapped around his thighs, he still made sure I couldn't get too comfy. So I'd call him an expert, for method... If I couldn't relax, an' get into all the joy of pleasin' him, I had to focus on the only good thing; my job. Inch twelve pushed its way in... It was a fuckin' cobra swimmin' into me, but with fangs swapped for tree-branch veins, pushed so deep they throbbed at my windpipe. The only nice act of his that night - or maybe ever - was to pull back a bit every little while and let me breathe. And then shove it hard back in; an' Jesus, it went deeper every time. I whipped my tongue on the base o' that monster, the little bit that size would let it move. Suckin' him harder than the first straw-gulps through a frozen shake... Hard enough to feel my lips flushed red with trauma, an' every pulse of his cock from there halfway down to my stomach. All the way to inch thirteen, an' I just couldn't keep the drool from comin' on. The spit from my waterin' mouth, mixed with slick tanuki pre, a trace of both our sweat and the stank o' my own wrecked asshole, all leakin' out my lower lip, oozin' through the fur down my chin. Another minute's work, chokin' him down, with a few breaks for breath, and his moans got their loudest 'n' deepest, while it all dripped from my jawline, down the pit between my pecs. Cool an' damp, while he rocked those hips to make my maw even looser'n my rear. So the shivers came back to me; with a bit o' tremble put to my lips, just the very moment they hit the big time; pushed up on his loins, tickled by a true stud's crotch fur. I'd made it. Somehow, I took the biggest dick I know I'll ever see, down my throat 'til there was nothin' left outside. While I stared up, past all that chiseled core and cut jawline, I got my look of approval. "Fuuuuck," he droned, low 'n deep but with his own cute twinge o' subby. Submittin' to the feel o' my lips an' throat makin' every inch heaven, I know; just from how he spurred me on. "Good slut... Show that fuckin' monster... Respect..." I'd been at war with m'own gag... But now I kept it away, hardly tryin'. I finally had that moment; I could take him deep, know it's just how he wanted, and have it easy enough to relish myself. I nursed that cock like a workin' boy, lips clamped hard while he slipped that throbbin' giant in 'n' out, fuckin' my throat like a latex toy. All while I sucked him hard as hell, like it would earn me wealth; when I knew the closest I'd get, was earnin' a bath o' rich cream, right outta those huge musky nuts. They swung so fuckin' low... The bottom grazed my collar, every time he forced himself deep. But with some harder shoves, they slid over it, an' left with a light coat o' spit-pre slurry. I knew, even starin' up, from how I felt the slime stretch when they swung away. Christ... How was it all so fuckin' perfect, every thing, every second. I'd prob'ly hummed about fifteen moans, with my nose touched by the flat field near his navel. "Mmmmn.... mmngh..." "Yeeeahhh, fuck..." His palm pushed me in, every time he fed me that length. "You ain't bullshit... Think you got the gift... Ohhrrgh... Fuckin' slut, EAT my two-ton dick..." It's all I wanted to do. Suck'im deep, like a high-dollar vacuum that belonged to him alone. I musta looked a sight... All this naked muscle, caged by his legs 'n' a hand, my arms curled behind his knees, an' the hardest goddamn tiger prick in history, goin' crazy with throbs between his calves. On my knees like a beggar, and in a way I was; beggin' for him to keep that dick inside me, beggin' for every thick inch to fuckin' plug me, shame me, use me up 'til there was nothin' left to fuck. And just like everythin' else, it musta shone in my eyes. "You gettin' cocky?" I heard him taunt, while so wrapped up in servin' him it took a sec to register he'd spoke. Guess the delay was just short enough that my head's shakin' wasn't too late; his sneer said he stayed right in the moment. He reared back for another o' my breaths; I took the window to pop him free, reach a hand up and slap that pipe on my hard-pantin' face. "Yerr the one who's cocky here... Y' get me..." He still rocked those hips a tad, even with his tool free o' my throat; I knew I'd got him close to the line. "Damn right, boy... You like admirin' this gun? " His hand pushed me in like it had; forcin' my nose and lips against that wet, pungeant flesh. My beef jiggled all over in a shudderin' whine, an' he just added coals to the fire. "After it's got'chou loose like those chicks? " "You fuckin' know. Love admirin', gobblin', givin' it its way..." A lighter whine. "... Sittin' here in awe... An' envy..." I arched my neck, and gave 'im one long, hard slurp up to the hood. "You lucky... Gawd-damn...." I didn't have to see up to know I'd hit a home run; it was in his voice, and the swing of his hips while he held me. "... Wish y' had this, don't ya." "Who..." Thick 'n' heavy, throbbin' on the side o' my nose. "Who the fuck wouldn't..." "Heheh... Not a damn soul." The hand that didn't hold me, hit his cock on me harder than I'd done myself. I could barely hear him over my own wailin' gasps. "Well keep wishin', runt. Best y' can do is bow to it." "An' I ... I want nothin' more..." My knees scraped on the asphalt, wrigglin' in ecstacy like the rest o' me. I may'a barely heard him, but by now I gave no fuck what I said. It just came straight from my brain, unrestrained. "Fuck, I need yerr dick like air... Need it in deep... Please... I'm starvin' for that sweet load..." He stood closer than when he'd throat-fucked me. I smelled that member, an' all the manly glaze around it, an' all his own sweaty fur close into it. How I didn't shoot right then 'n' there, I'll never know... But I had no time for that, or anythin' else. He coulda stayed standin', teasin' me, speakin' all those swarthy truths that got my eight-inch manhood blueballed. But he needed that release, more'n I needed takin' it. Shit was all a blur, with everything together: my hunger, all the pain he'd caused to make his own pleasure, and the tail end of a wicked buzz. But I know he laid a hand on my muzzle, liftin' me. It musta been high, 'cause I remember his face, still sneerin' with a lack of any kindness; and it whipped outta view, while my body whizzed through the chilly fog, and felt the breath taken outta my lungs. Lyin' winded, belly-down, nose throbbin' like my dick as I landed on it. I mighta yelped, more'n likely... It'd explain my hearin' the words 'bellyachin' whore' , right about when his hand slid under me, quick 'n' rough in how it lifted 'n' placed me on my mitts. Kneeled like a dog; just right for when I felt his body at my tail, and the front of his thighs on mine's back. I wheezed out a pitiful moan; this time there'd be no warm-up, no flirtin' with my cheeks. Everything from my neck to toes tightened, while my hole took all fourteen in the time it takes to say "OHHHH-h-hshiiiit-". It wailed through the grit o' my teeth. It was out of my reach to ignore just how helpless I felt; robbed of all strength with him behind me, buckin' into my hole with true force. They say part of your dick stays in your body, like the chain of an anchor; and it's there I felt him the most, rakin' the base of my prick while it throbbed so close to shootin'. My neck stretched level with the cold pavement, while I faced to the sky in moans. Fucked by a tool so unbelievable, so impossibly huge, my body's best try to reject it was to tighten these chiseled buns around it. So he felt even bigger; and could only love it that much more. So much drive in his thrusts, that my arms slid on the filthy ground; rollin' my elbows, while they held me wobbly up with my knees. Through all the pleasure, the pain, the part of the first that came from the last, I'd learned one thing o' myself that night. I was a born-again uke; a guy who'd never chase skirts for the rest o' my reassessed life. He took all the blame, while I took his strength, and his rage, put to a means to get his beast weapon off. I felt something wet down my thighs, in a trickle; his pre, I already knew, an' more than he'd given up to now. This was it, the last act o' the passion play... And I focused hard, to put force in my cheeks and clench around him even more than I had. I heard the risin' bray, his voice put to raw thrill; I knew I'd done what I wanted. The hot conviction boomed from him like never before. "UNNGGH, Take me bitch... You got some shit to answer." I loved the sound, but didn't know what exactly it meant. Then his fist on my scalp clued me in. "Who's the man? " I yelped with the punch; just shock and pleasure, nothin' worse. "Y-You..." Another hit, to my temple; and goddamn this was the hardest yet. "Who's your fuckin' king? " I coughed, and sputtered, and shoved my hips back into him, just to make the plunges that much harder. "YOU, man... you... " He doubled up; in three short breaths, I took a major hit to both sides o' my jaw. Bastard loved beatin' on me; an' I just couldn't hate the power I felt in every blow. My cock hurt worse than any of 'em; not for soreness from earlier, near as much as how fuckin' long I was on edge. I couldn't feel when one pulse led to another; it was like the first tingle o' climax, that wouldn't grow, but wouldn't quit. And that's when his first beefed-up scream hit my ears. It tricked me; startin' as a leak deep inside, thick enough to tickle my guts. Then all hell broke loose up my ass; filled so fuckin' fast and hard, my arms just gave out under me, and slammed my chin to the asphalt. One blast of his hot seed, and already I felt like a balloon. Then he did what almost no guy could do; reached under me and propped me back up, while shovin' in hard to shoot a second rope. It musta came like a rifle; I'd believe it if someone told me he'd shot up into my stomach. I writhed, and wailed, and leaked his loads from that incredible sack, trailin' down my crack and furry legs. The sound of his groans told his teeth were clenched like mine... God, I can't imagine how much he felt with all those inches. I'm just sure it was strong like his hand, balled up tight, while I took my final right cross o' the night, clean-cocked right on my cheekbone. A donkey hit, just to make me clamp on that monster; and with the streetlights spinnin' and the stars in my eyes, it did the job. The dizzy took a spell to leave, but did just in the knick o' time. While he pumped the last few ropes up my mancave, and I felt the leaks poolin' at my knees, I'd had all my throbbin' dick could take. It was never touched, sucked or taken, but before he slowed that poundin' rhythm, I felt the stir in my nuts and the swell above. If you wanna know true helplessness - what it's like to be robbed of your balls while they work - you can't top a handsfree peak. I musta sent that first spurt two car lengths. Sure felt like it, with my eyelids tight as storm shutters, breathing the cold fog through my yowls. He might'a gave every drop of his own - still pourin' outta my crease, just too damn much to stay in - but he made sure I still felt his power, still shovin' that monster far inside. I figured he'd had his fill, as far as whippin' me down; if he'd just let me shoot my fuckin' load, and not make any bones about it. It's what I thought 'til my second rope was close to spewin' out... An' I had that huge brown fist close around my package. Not on the cock, where y' might expect; but wrappin' my balls, in a quick, tight squeeze. And the moment he did, that pressure opened me up to a whole new world of intensity. It was like he had his hand on a turkey baster, and all the gobs just rocketed out that much faster. My eyes flew open like hell; I saw the glory of my second shot, and found out just how right I was about the distance. It shot into my lower field of vision, with my lungs wailin, body shakin', like my dick was a Magnum and his clench was the trigger. We faced the street, a good fifteen feet ahead of us; and as a Cadillac cruised past the berth of that alley, I watched the arc of that rope, splatterin' the base of its rear door. Must not've sounded half as loud inside, as it did to me; didn't stop the driver, though I'm sure he'd have one hell of a question for the next time he washed his ride. Not that it occurred to me then; not with shots three, four and five paintin' the asphalt, skewin' out long trails on its filth. He still rocked me with his pivots; I still moaned under wails for the pain. But seven long, hard ropes summed what all I had stored up; just since they were each so fuckin' heavy, wrung out like a sponge while his mongoloid sack clunked my taint. I wailed, but quieter; I shook, but less so fuckin' wild. He'd seen me to the end, and in a way I felt wiser. Maybe just for gettin' shown my true craves; but maybe somethin' else that even now, I'm not so sure I could explain. So with my cockhead dribblin', givin' the last li'l mouthful down to my base and his hand, I felt his hand move from squeezin' to what I don't think I coulda predicted: a slow, almost gentle rub over my fuzzy nugs. It didn't cut into his attitude; I heard all the brutish nibs like before, while his thrust slowed to a steady rock. "Heh, fuck yehh... So how's the bitch feel to find his new place?" Gotta hand it to him; one sentence said it all pretty well. I worked against my gasps - and a weakened bod that griped at me with pain - to answer. "Feels like... I could call myself a sucker for... Real men like you." I rocked my hips back into him one good, hard time. "Or just you period... Sure as hell won't find a... Bigger, better guy in this life." I heard another of his deep, strong chuckles. The hand rubbin' my sack moved up to my tool, carressing it; not like he loved it, more than he just enjoyed what belonged to him. "I thought'cha might like that. Near as much as I like bein' the better man." I felt loosening in my crack; he was drawin' out, but not before three shallow pushes, like a farewell tease. I'm sure my syrupy hum was enough to show the gratitude; my reply just made it more obvious. "Yeah, and yerr used to it... I'm fuckin' sure-" On the last word outta me, I heard the 'POP' and tightened every muscle by instinct; I'd been so used to him inside me, that to be fully free just seemed... Unnatural. Tired, spent, buzzed, achin', I just rolled to the side when he released me, and in a flash I lay starin', belly-up, to the look of true perfection. Fuck, to have an oil painting o' that... The scar, the wrinkles, the lowered eyes that screamed just how I'd satisfied him; all draped over that brawn, ripplin' in its sweat-soaked fur, an' that just icin' on the boulder-size cake below. Swingin' by his legs in the breeze, and his moves in a slow act to stand. Caked with jizz, loomin' large while he took a hand, an' its finger, to scoop a gob off the side of his shaft. Funny; though I could wheeze, still shocked an' eyes worshippin' that blessing, I think it hit me just as hard when I saw him above. Standin' tall, proud, just as sure of his gift as I was o' my fixation. My hole was startin' to shed its pain; as did most o' the rest of me. So sprawled out, warm with an afterglow like nothin' before, I just sighed an' watched him sample his own thick cream. Still jealous o' what nature endowed him; but now, I had some envy of a different kind. Lord knows if there was one single reason not to say it; so while he sucked that DNA off his digits, I did. "Shit... I'm jus' sorry I couldn't earn my way to lickin' you clean." It got him to stare down at me; his fingers cleaned and lowered, while I received a look of kinky inspiration. His lips curled up, and I knew a zinger was en-route. "Yep, a shrimp like you can't live entitled. But some shit ain't earned... Just given." So I scrambled up from splayed with the stupidest grin, and while I set on sore knees, I got to thinkin'. Just what struck me while I spit-shined that monster, with his groans ringin' in my ears. Might have to pierce one... Buy somethin' leather... And start hittin' a whole new kinda night spots. I dunno, though... Techno never agreed with me... ... There's always time to iron out the details.

The End, herein.