Worked Loose

Reader discretion is adviced, this story contain graphic content depicting violence which may not be suitable to all readers. This is a fictional story and do not portray real events or real persons.

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“How the fuck I know it was you, Sticky Buns?” I smirked, about to give this jaw-dropping motherfucker in front of me the answer to his ever-burning question. “Your scent is like a fucking bakery—I could smell that sweet pop ‘n’ fresh ass from all the way down the street!”

Although my lowly cocksucker would never come outright and admit it (or maybe his sissy ass would), he was wildly turned on by the “compliments” I often gave him whenever his sugar-sweet ass would stop on by. It almost always seemed to tap into his inner ho. This in turned brought out his A-Game for whatever perverted or degraded deed I came up with, that day whenever I decided to taunt his tongue with a taste of some of my mean uncut sausage.

The bitch was named Donavon, a naïve piece of shit with wavy dark brown hair on lightly toasted brown skin. I can’t even lie; he was a straight-up pretty boy, phyne as fuck, who seemed quite surprised I opened the door to my apartment butt-ass naked with my Dickies down around my ankles along with my silk boxers—and, of course, with my fat throbbing hard dick kissing the still cool air of the hallway.

“I don’t know why you’re still on your feet like you’re a fucking man. Eyeing me down like you done earned the right to come up from your station in this got-damn world. Like I told your bitch-ass before you’re place on this earth is on your knees deepthroating the shit out of my piece.”

At first, Donavon didn’t flinch because I didn’t flinch. He thought I was playing with his soft crusty ass. When he tried to make his way into my apartment like I usually allowed him to, I still didn’t flinch, getting the sexy little fuck to get the point.

“You mean, out here out here?” Donavon asked scared and quite shocked. He must’ve forgot that I was the same dude a week prior that made him drive out to the stadium and suck me off like chrome off a trailer hitch at a crowded tailgate party.

“Ain’t no better place I can think of…unless you want me to start feeding my man to some other dick-starved ho?” I said, grabbing at my hard-on for effect.

Donavon took one hard look down at the long narrow hallway where five other apartment doors remained closed. He then looked down the echoing-empty stairwell next to my door before staring at my naked, hard ripped body head-on.

“Time is ticking, man. I can have your replacement here in a minute.” I put out there, thinking it would get the fuck down on his knobby knees.

But, to no avail.

Instead, with his full pink lips pursed, Donavon pleaded, “Shit, can’t I do that inside, man?”

“Naw, shawty,” I voiced, tapping into my dormant drawl. “I want my dick sucked right out there, right now!”

“What if somebody comes up?” He asked legitimately, looking over the rail, “…or out of their apartment?”

“That’s a chance your sweet ass will have to take, sticky buns.” I said, watching his light brown eyes light up like a Christmas tree. “Sure, somebody might come up the stairs. And sure, somebody might come out of those apartments, and somebody might even discover you like a big black dick plugging up your pussy-lined throat. Who the fuck said they might not like it either? But then, again, getting a taste of some of this chocolaty dick is guaranteed—but like those commercials always say, it’s only for a limited time.”

Without further ado—just like I knew he would—Donavon sheepishly looked down at my hard dick, pointing dead at him, down the abandoned stairwell and down the lengthy hall before dropping down to his knobby knees. He then cracked open his watery mouth and took my thick dick down his skinny little windpipe.

If it wasn’t for my boy Lo, Donavon and I would have never even bothered crossing paths.

It was only after Lo had landed that good-paying job as a groundskeeper at a local housing project he came across Donavon’s candied-ass and where he lived with his elderly grandmother and baby sister. Over the past few weeks, after that, however, Lo had been trying his damnest to hook up with the pretty little fuck but had absolutely no luck. He came up with the next best thing, which was to call in some backup to help claim his prize.

Lo was a very cool guy, but shit-face ugly. He had a huge gash across his face right where the corner of his lips should’ve ended and his left cheek should have started. All in all, that was merely Strike One against him. And because he was already naturally big and tall like a two-ton silverback gorilla at six-foot-eight, along with the ridiculous amount of muscles we stacked on from our stint in prison, Lo came off much more intimidating than he really was. I was a nice size, too, don’t get me wrong. But I had being strikingly handsome well on my side. Put this with the fact that it gave me an exclusive membership to the fantasy league of macho fuckers.

Because of this, after our respective sets had begun to come under siege and come together to fend off the tensions brought on by rival gangs, Lo and I spent a great bit of time shooting the shit by mastering the fine art of flipping guys behind bars. Particularly, those pretty short dudes with those phat juicy asses that were always on their p’s and q’s, trying hard not to fall into the typical traps of prison life. Once Lo and I agreed on working a particular dude over, I started off on the mark by breaking him down, taking snide little swipes at his fragile manhood, or question thereof that was certain to get into his head and get the best of him when he saw the inner workings of prison life firsthand.

It would seem, at first, he would put the idea of two dudes together out of his mind. As it became a constant, however, only one would be a straight-up dude and the other would be his bitch. Then, it would appear he would have his world and they would have theirs. Amongst the pairings and the brutal rapes, which soon became commonplace behind bars, the guy would come across a unique site: two lifers willing taking turns “taking care” of each other sexually and without bias.

That would get the best of them every time, especially throughout the night when he would only have his thoughts to entertain him.

Give or take a couple of weeks without a good night’s sleep, I would see the mark was no longer on top of his game. I would start engaging him in general conversation to see where his head was at slyly replacing simple words like “brotha” with “baby” and “playboy” with “sweetheart.” When I thought he was letting me get away with that a lot more than I should’ve, I pushed the envelope a little further by going in for the kill by joking with the other inmates that his “brown eye” felt as good as my girl’s good ol’ fashioned pussy back home. If he snapped back with something good, it was back to the drawing board. If not, he chose to punk out or storm off like a sissy, he was as good as had. That was where Lo and his ugly scar came in and worked their lovely magic as the understanding confidante. That was where he ran his sweetest game, telling the naïve mark he knew what it was like to be picked on, especially on the outside, and not having a girlfriend or a prostitute willing to service him much less satisfy any of his sexual needs. And being feared behind bars for being so huge and so intimidating (which he admits had its benefits) often left him friendless except for me, and that was because we went through the fire together.

From there, a friendship was quickly formed with cell drop-bys and tag-along errand runs, followed by an eerily strong bond that could have easily been thinly veiled as a prison marriage without the obligatory sex. After a couple of weeks or more after listening to the heaven and hell screams coming from surrounding cells of inmates having another man inside of them, the mark began to masochistically fantasize about what that must feel like, what it would be like came into mind. Then, after a while, the mark would look over at Big Lo, feeling like he was the only one in prison that truly understood him. Being that everyone knew by then the mark was his sidekick, the mark also felt that Lo served as his ultimate protector against the rampant attacks he had heard and seen. He would look over at Lo, weighing his options about giving it up to the ugly ogre willingly or risk getting caught up and turned out in some prison hideaway by some prison gangbangers. Before long, Lo got the mark holding his dick and sucking him off, making him spew like a ruptured hydrant. Getting the mark to give up the ass, though, always seemed to be the biggest of all the obstacles. Like sucking dick wasn’t really fagging out. Every mark knew that once he crossed that line there was no going back, and it didn’t help it was common knowledge that those that were “flipped” was destined for a prison life of being somebody’s bitch—if he got caught doing it. Lo didn’t mind, though. He got off on talking to a dude sweetly; convincing him it was absolutely his choice, whatever that was. Some usually gave it up then and there while others had to think about it for a moment. Some were just plain ol’ hardheaded, letting their “great protector” slip away, as the green-eyed monsters of prison got ready to pounce hard. Eventually, they too came around giving up ass like no prison inmate had ever given it up before. After a few test runs, after Lo had worked them loose, he would then share the harvest with the rest of our set and we would in turn claim him as community property, available any time for our convenience.

That was back in prison, of course.

Nowadays, now that Lo and I were upstanding productive members of society, we simply enjoyed the sport of turning out a potential fag. Especially these short pretty dudes with a juicy phat ass much like our boy Donavon.

“You’re thinking for yourself now, huh, bitch?” I growled with anger, manically slapping my wet hard dick back and forth across his sweet and sticky bun face.

I was still a bit peeved and turned on at the same time about having to talk that bitch Donavon down to his knees. Peeved that there was even a discussion about it and turned on to the fact that in spite of his better judgment and understandable concern and fears, he was still game to do anything to get his mouth around my dick.

When I plugged my dick back into his mouth, he seemed quite sated using his slick tonsils to ease me further down his throat. I gripped the sides of his face and ears, steady moving my dick in and out of his mouth. Just when I thought I was the master of his oral domain, the dirty bastard started to do something with the back of his tongue that literally had me one good stroke from just letting loose down his throat.

And I couldn’t have that—not at his will.

So, as I felt the sharp bristles of his shaped goatee scrape against my hairy balls, I took one firm hand to the back of his hooked head and forced him down on my dick.

He gurgled and choked, gagged and cooed, and frankly loved every minute of it.

“Yeah, bitch, I got that throat wide open now, like you’re my proper bitch,” I said, letting my baritone voice carry down the hall and down the stairwell.

Even if I didn’t know that every one of my neighbors that lived on my floor was gone to work, I still wouldn’t have given a damn. Taking some solace in the fact I could feel his asshole twitching from all the way up in his mouth.

My dick was raging mad at the mere thought of this, and my husky orbs were ready to burst out of control. I had to do everything in my power just to hold back, just a little while longer. His mouth was feeling just that good. The only choice I had in my arsenal was to pump my dick in his mouth piston-style.

I was in the zone. I could feel my dick swell threefold in his tightening mouth. Like I, he knew exactly what was coming and tried his best to pull off. But I wasn’t having that, reminding him that the courteous thing for me to do was let him receive the fruits of his labor.

“Stay still and swallow hard, or I’ll take it out on that sweet ass of yours, Sticky Buns.”

That just seemed to do it for him. Tapping into his inner ho, his throat relaxed without protest, allowing even more of my dick into his mouth. Of course, my victory was short-lived when I let out a budding groan and flooded his wet mouth with my warm sticky cum he soon took down the pipe like the cum-thirsty ho he was meant to be.

It took a while. But once I felt I was completely drained, I pulled him off my dick and shook it off across his ever-loving face.

“Next time,” I said, catching my breath, and pointing my finger at him, “I tell your pop ‘n’ fresh ass to do something, I expect you to do it with no sass. You hear me? When I whip out my man, your knees better hit the ground running, mouth open ready to receive, and cum ready to gulp down like it’s your favorite cherry-flavored slurpie. ‘cause next time you ain’t actin’ right you ain’t getting any of this,” grabbing my dick and rubbing the wetness across his face one more good time.

With that off my chest, I took a real good look at the poor sap. Looking like his mouth needed to snap back in place with it looking like it was desperately hoping for another round of dick. Rather than ruin the moment with meaningless words, I simply stepped back from the threshold and slammed the door in his sugar-sweet face.

“Eh, Lo,” I smiled into the phone, doing up my Dickies, and making my way to my computer desk. “There ain’t a damn thing that bitch won’t do for a dick. I know without a doubt now that before we can take shit to the next level, I got to tap that ass. Shit, that motherfucker is ripe and ready for his shit to be turned out and then some. Let me tell you what I had the boy do all this week! Let me just start off with what I did to the worthless fuck just five minutes ago…

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From my angle, Donavon was a simple kid to figure out. He was one of those kids who forced his nose to the grindstone because it was more important, he carried the well-wishers of his struggling community on his back rather than be allowed to have a little fun. Unfortunately for him, though, it bred his hankering for a taste of the wild side, believing that having some raunchy bottom bitch by his side was the end of all ends. And it was—for a while. Particularly during his senior year of high school when he had made all his credits and the only thing he had to do was sit around until graduation.

And soon it came, his high school graduation and his eighteenth birthday.

Aside from still having to live with his nagging grandmother and his baby sister to keep down expenses, Donavon was ready to get his grown man on, which in his world pretty much meant spending the whole summer throwing some dick in his broad and getting everything ready for college.

Then, one late summer night as he made his way through the cut after another nice day of swimming in some pussy, he saw something that would just forever fuck with his head. Something he didn’t even know was an option on the table.

While Donavon was pretty much cool with everybody at school and in his ‘hood, there were at least three dudes he simply tiptoed around at any given moment what he had told me from earlier conversations, the three dudes were allegedly a buck wild bunch of hardcore thugs, known to pounce on anyone, male or female, for even looking at them crooked. There was even one incident that even Lo had filled me in on when he saw one of the three dudes who had came across a recently-released inmate that apparently still had some debt lingering over his head before he went in. And how the story went, the dude snatched off his belt, somehow got the bastard crawling around on his hands and knees, and started beating him silly, going up and down the street and back again. “My boss man then had the nerve to ask me, ‘how come I didn’t step in?’”, Lo told me one night over some beers. “I wanted to tell the shit, he didn’t pay me enough. But I played it off square, telling my boss I didn’t dabble in domestic quarrels anymore.” As Lo hinted around the real reason of how he got caught up in the system in the first place: defending a toothless ho that wouldn’t give him the time of day from her ass-whuppin’ pimp, who got her to flip the script on Lo once the police arrived.

Anyway, according to Donavon, the three dudes and their reputations had begun to reach a fever pitch that summer when deserving bodies were hitting the ground from stray bullets that came from anonymous guns in and around their housing projects. The more that happened the more their faces became littered with teardrop tattoos, suggesting they were the ones behind the murders. Though, whenever any of the three saw Donavon, they always managed to give him a head nod and what sometimes looked like a devilish smirk. It came as quite a blow to his thought process that night when he saw all three of them in the cut getting blowjobs by this known fag called Desirae.

“He was bobbin’ his head up and down those piles of dicks like it was nothing,” Donavon confessed to me over a midnight snack one time.

He was blown away. Not at the fact that sissies sucked dick, but men at the epitome of macho-ness in the ‘hood would allow such an effeminate creature to even touch their manhood like that. I could have gone in and dropped some prison science on him, telling him in many cases that was the greatest sign of respect from a fag was when he kept his head down, spoke when he was spoken to, and serviced a dick on wordless command.

Nevertheless, Donavon was intrigued when the three dudes clowned Desirae by letting go of three simultaneous nutts dead in his face, as Donavon watched from afar. As the days progressed, Donavon came across Desirae in the cut sucking off everyone from the old gray-headed dude to the sixth-tier drug dealer with a wife and two known girlfriends. Even Lo had to admit to getting some of that throat.

Donavon was too scared to get in on the action, so Desirae caught up to him one night in passing. That was the night that Donavon found out that a dude could give better head than some girls.

But that was just only the beginning.

Desirae had some friends that would not only give Donavon head anytime he wanted it but would get on their hands and knees and offer up their greased booties, squealing and hollering about his big dick. This only put Donavon on the onramp of being turned out, when one night some anonymous thug from somewhere around his neighborhood came up from behind him, nearly scaring the living shit out of him and his new swagger. Of course, the dude was only mistaken, thinking Donavon was an old friend trying to skip out on a gambling debt. Even so, Donavon told me, he never knew his dick could get so hard with another dude pressed up so close against him like that.

A few days later, Donavon thought he caught the wandering eye of some of the other neighborhood thugs. Unlike before, though, when he came through the cut with his mind on dinner, he started wondering if those thugs were thinking what he was thinking about as he arched his back to the ceiling, spanking his monkey and started to play with the tender skin near his tight booty hole, dreaming about those sexy thuggish motherfuckers taking their time turning him into their bitch in a gangbang fantasy-style setting.

He couldn’t go there, he remembered, calming down after most of his powerful nutt to date sailed across the room taking out some of his beloved posters. Those were dudes he grew up looking up to, went to school with. Sure, some of them he only knew in passing. Still, though, even if he had a chance to give it up to just one of those dudes, life would be like the cherry on top of a hellhole sundae, with news about the quite little light-skinned boy that hopped off the bus every single afternoon coming from school to fag out for all those motherfucking thugs, and having that reoccurring dream of having to fight those thugs baby’s mommas’ over the rights to their dicks.

Poor Donavon could not be obvious to the fact his glances at just one of those gorgeous men were just a lot longer than they should have been, the way he covered his hard piece of equipment with his books said it all to my boy Lo.

Donavon was grown enough to be out of high school yet young enough to be dumb and dickstruck, Lo told me the night he unveiled his master plan to help turn Donavon out.

Best of all, coming somewhere out of left field, we came across the unbeknownst information that while Donavon may have sucked dick he was definitely a bona fide backend virgin. Something I found to be tried and true the second time my ten-inch dick pacified the natural-born cocksucker’s mouth when I took it upon myself to rub my rough and heavy mitts down his ass crack. His hole was so small and so tight he damn near broke off my pinky finger passed the first knuckle.

Despite my sadistic flare, I never again tried fingering him, letting him become his own slave to the “what if” feeling of having his ass played with as he feverishly worked over my dick.

I knew the “what ifs” had finally started to get the best of him when he told me about the night he saw the three dudes running a train on Desirae and the way he was loving it. So much so that someone had to stuff a bandana in his mouth to keep down the excitement. Given the fact that Donavon had sucked me off in places he had never even dreamed of, he summoned the courage to call me up a few days after the hallway incident, that his folks were headed out of town for the weekend, and he wouldn’t put up “too much of a fuss” if I happened to stop on by and kicked it with him one day.

Not a man usually up for subtleties, I told Donavon straight-up I wouldn’t mind rolling though, but only if he was game about letting me be the first to tag that ass. He hesitated for a minute. It wasn’t because he was scared or anything like that. He had thought it through before he even picked up the phone. He hesitated because he wanted to come off coy, making me promise to be gentle with him “if” we got down to business.

Friday night rolled around, and I pulled into a small, crowded parking lot littered with some downright gorgeous thugs and fugly (fuck-ugly) looking slugs standing around. I gave the liquored group a nod out of respect, stopping short of coming out of my skin to holler at this short Boricua-looking boy with a shaven bald head and an oh-so-damn! phyne phat juicy booty that looked like it could crush steel poles for months. But, I digressed, going about my business as I remember verbatim everything Donavon told me about going around the corner of the third building to the left and reading up the stairs to the door on the right.

The freak inside of me wanted to shuck off my pants when I got to his door. Common sense kicked in and told me not to go there. Not yet. Just in case by a small chance I had the wrong door.

I knocked.

Donavon opened it, like I expected, standing there shirtless, showing off his lean muscles wrapped tightly around his skinny frame, and casually invited me in.

He stared at me hard.

“What?” I finally asked him, pulling my shirt over my head, letting him love the huge rock-solid prison muscle that still covered my body.

His smile ran a mile wide, pushing the door closed behind me.

“I just thought you’re freaky-ass would’ve been at the door with that fat knob hanging out of your pants.

“Would’ve,” I smirked, taking full note his nice body was only complimentary to his good-looking mug. “But seeing all these hoochies around there, I was afraid one might take a look at the stick and would’ve tried to rape me. With all the shit I got going on I don’t need to be some crumbsnatcher’s daddy.”

He laughed, making me forget my main focus with his naturally perfect set of teeth. I moved in closer in on him, and for the first time in our depraved relationship I went in for a kiss. As my tongue made its way down his startled mouth, I quickly snapped back into play, reminded myself it was all about running game and plucking ass so that me and Lo could have access to something when the well ran low. And for effect, I straddled him to my waist like an absent lover and slammed him to a piece of his grandmother’s wall free of framed mementos.

I came in with the full intent of playing him like a fiddle. So I did, dry humping him eagerly against the wall. I felt his nature rise instantly as I took my time to leave hickeys across his neck. I took it a step further, stuffing my hands down in his jeans and cupping his virgin ass. I knew if this was going to go off without a hitch, I needed him hot and horny ass hell, begging for it like a crack fiend.

He failed not to disappoint directing me to his bedroom.

He flipped on the switch upon entering; loving every passion mark as I quickly laid him down on the bed. He sort of got me by locking his legs around me, but fumbled horribly by trying to shuck off his long shorts after putting me in a vice grip.

“Trying to put the chicken before the egg, ain’tcha shawty,” I said, raising off him and sliding off his shorts and underwear.

“I just want to please you, Pa.” Donavon cooed so sexily, opening up my belt for me.

He didn’t even wait for my dick to greet him. He just went for the kill, pulling it through the slit of my boxers.

“Damn, shawty,” I smiled, looking down at him, palming my swollen manhood. “Look at you, gripping the dick like you got papers on it.”

“I do.” Donavon winked, jutting his tongue out at my dick.

He was soon leaning forward, bathing it in warm spit and coning his tongue to work my shaft overtime, working hard just to make me want to leak just a little.

“Shit, keep on working that tongue like that, Sticky Buns, and I might just have to sign on the dotted line.” I lied, with a hint of sincerity.

He worked his tongue into my piss slip, loving the “compliment” nevertheless as he found a new vigor breathed into his lungs.

“Shit, keep on doing that and I’m going to have to bust an ol’ fashioned nutt off in your mouth.” I said, feeling my balls coming to a boil. “I came here to bless that tight booty, aiight.”

He then started slow bobbing, thinking he was still keeping me entertained all the while preventing me from skeeting a load down his throat. As it seemed, however, his slow bob was about to sink me into deep trouble.

“Enough dick for you!” I joked, making a play on a sitcom I saw, popping it out of his mouth.

I stepped out of my pants and boxers and took out the condom and lube.

“Damn, Bossman pulled out a black condom out on me,” he laughed nervously as I slipped them on.

“Yeah,” I smirked, “thought I would throw it on for the special occasion that your bitch-ass didn’t punk out.”

I kept on looking at him, wondering what was going through his pretty little head. Was he game? Was he scared as shit? What?

Donavon just looked up at me, like he knew what was going on in my mind, and responded with, “I’m ready to go all the way. But like I said, I never had anybody in me like that before.”

“So?” I said, trying to come off harder than hard.

Even though I had a great plan worked out in my mind, he could see I did give a little bit of a damn about popping his cherry.

“So?! I’m scared as fuck!”

“Don’t be.” I assured him like I knew. All I saw was that I was getting some virgin-tight booty. “Relax that juicy little ass of yours and don’t fight it, and you should be good.”

“I bet that is what you say to all of them.” He joked nervously.

“Naw,” I said, looking down at him, and saw every kind of emotion run through his head. He was committed yet scared out of his fucking mind looking over at my black-covered, big black dick wishing it didn’t live up to the typical stereotype.

“I ain’t going to hurt you.” I said sincerely.

I wasn’t getting all lovie-dubie, but I saw it was something he needed to hear and something he needed to believe in.

He turned around and presented his bubble ass to me. The only thing that would have made it more beautiful was if he had oiled it up, giving it a nice sheen, a nice shine. As I spread his mounds, I saw that tight little buttonhole butthole in the off-center area of his ass crack putting into perspective that punching a dick deep down through was really nothing more than a brilliant idea up until that point. At least, I thought, I could make the point of no return more enjoyable.

“Turn that ass around.” I said injecting a bit of bass and sex into my voice.

Like a good soldier, Donavon turned around.

I snatched him up to his feet.

“Trust and believe, when I’m busting open that cherry, I promise you I will be watching all of those beautiful sex faces.” I added, pulling him in close.

He was ready, but tense. That only seemed to melt away when I started playing with his hard pointy nipples.

After a while though, Donavon took the initiative and pulled me on top of him onto the bed, letting me lie down beside him and slowly finger his hole as he let out wild gasps and moans. “Damn, baby,” I grinned and kissed. He was no doubt relaxed, but his hole would not let up even as I tried to work more globs of lube into it. I mean, I did everything to work that sucker loose from massaging it to stretching it open.

No luck.

In a twist of events, however, while I wasn’t making any leeway, Donavon was giving off subtle hints he was ready to get fucked. That was until he came outright and said it. “Damn, boy, I need your man up in me.”

That was enough for me. Fuck all the niceties, I thought, sliding him to the edge of the bed.

I aligned my dick with his virgin hole. As I rubbed it in to get it through, his hole only sucked in part of the tip as if to say some shit in broken English like “too big, only room enough to slip in a toe”. I thought at first, I would roll with the punches because he was a stone-cold virgin, and before I did anything I needed him to relax just a little bit. I mean, I had been in predicaments that took forever to work my way inside of a dude. Many of them weren’t even virgins anymore. This, however, was ridiculous. It was like forever on top of forever. When I decided to just try to go in for the kill, his closed slit decided to take a different take.

While my main concern then was about breaking in the rest of his stubborn seal, Donavon was moaning and groaning like he was getting the dick down of his life. Not as if he was getting bitched out and screwed but as if he was happy he finally got some dick to touch his closemouthed bootyhole.

“Man,” I griped. “You got a deadbolt on that ass. I can’t even get the head in right. I might have to call in back up.”

Donavon was acting like he was in Seventh Heaven grinding his taunting hole against my dick.

“If I can barely get one up in me, what make you think two is going to work?” Donavon wringed.

“Oh, you’ll see.” I said, reaching for his cell phone nearby.

About ten minutes later, Lo popped up at the door. Due to his lowly position barely paying enough to keep him a place nearby, his boss man got him a rent-free apartment on the premises, which kind of spooked Donavon as he opened the door for the big man.

“Remember me, folk?” Lo and his belly-driven bass carried throughout the small apartment.

“Let him in,” I said, from my position in his bedroom doorway.

Lo came in followed by Donavon, looking as if he just knew he had bit off a bit more than he could chew.

“Don’t worry.” I answered the thoughts reeling through his trembling body. “I’m going to get him to lay on the bed while you treat him to that First Class Head like you do, and I’ll play with that cockteasin’ booty of yours.”

A man of my word, I stuffed my face between his cheeks and heard the slurps of a young buck blowing off a man packing a bull-hung like he had been doing it for centuries. Lucky for me, though, great head was like kryptonite to Lo, and before someone like Rachael Ray could say “parmesan reggiano,” Donavon was fighting with all the thick cum clogging up his digestive tract. And as he was gasping for air, I ran my pipe up in his helpless hole like a train coming at full speed.

“Ah, stuck you in the ass,” I crooned, listening to him trying to scream out with plenty of cum blocking his throat with a lot of the milky substance landing on Lo’s flat stomach. “Didn’t anybody tell your sweet ass not to fuck with an anaconda…he might not be alone.”

I was a bit thrown once I was able to put it up in that ass, I was in there.

After a few rough and rhythmic thrusts delivered straight to his man-spot, Donavon nutted like a fool on the sheets below him with no assist. No hands. But that had absolutely nothing to do with me as I went to work on that juicy phat ass of his.

“Let me get some of that ass.” Lo said sometime later when his dick came back to life.

Lo was sitting on the edge of the bed while our piece of ass creamed to the high heavens all into the pillows beneath him.

“Cool,” I said, supplying another ball-deep thrust. “I got this shit worked loose now.”

“Like a 747?” He said, referring to an inside joke.

“Yeah,” I grinned.

Once I got in a few more wicked knee-deep burying lunges, Lo and I traded places as I took my new place in front of Donavon on the bed, pulling his face out of the pillow and wincing like a motherfucker when Lo slid his man up in him.

“Told you, I was going to watch those sex faces,” I said, making him take an unwilling lick of his own cherry juice before snatching off my empty condom.

Donavon looked like he wanted to say something real bad, but it appeared he had so much pain up in his ass it left the poor boy speechless. The next thing I know, I hear something sounding like a water gun going off. Before I realized it, it was Donavon letting go of another nutt with no assist, with droplets splashing off the bed and onto my legs. I guess that must have been enough to send my boy Lo completely over the edge, going from jackhammering that sloppy second hole to letting out a mighty roar, holding the body steady at the hips as he damn near blew Donavon right into me and my still-standing proud dick.

“Man, was it worth it?” I asked Lo with his eyes screwed shut.

“Shit, yeah,” Lo exhausted a full two minutes later, disengaging from Donavon, who was crying big deep sobs. I could only imagine his hole being packed to the brim by a man infamously known for his gallon-size wad of cum. “The only thing that would’ve made it better was if I could’ve said I had first-tagging rights.”

“You set me up?” Donavon said in wondrous disbelieve when his voice came back to.

“Folk, please, I used to be in prison. All I did was pluck phat booty with or without the consent of the owner.”

Donavon looked up at me and gave me a smirk that only a deflowered virgin could. “The joke’s on you, though. After watching all those man-on-man flicks, I really wanted to be turned out by more than one hardcore thug. If I was going to give it up like a punk, why not be put out of commission like a fucking fag?”

“You’re absolutely right,” I beamed calmly, giving him his props for having heart as I smacked my still-full, hard-on against his chin. “I hate to break it to your wish-listing ass, but the joke is really on you. Eh, Lo? What becomes of the virgin boy with the juicy phat ass when left alone with two big, big-dick horny ex-cons for the weekend?”

“Weekend?” He mouthed silently scared, obviously not getting the memo that we weren’t the kind of “gentlemen” to just hit it and quit it.

“Become a certified cum slut?” Lo asked.

“No,” I said, chuckling. “That’s a given. Try again.”

“Hope and pray that he could hold in his shit after we’re done?”

“Close,” I said. “The answer the judges were looking for was ‘He will be lucky if he could sit or stand upright by Thursday of next week.”

“Thursday of next week,” Lo repeated softly, rubbing his dripping dick on some dry part of Donavon’s ass.

▪ ▪ ▪

It should really go without saying we spent the entire weekend screwing like cats and dogs, practically treating every passing hour like it was our fucking last. Then, on top of that, Lo and I was having the time of our lives when neither one of our big dicks refused to die down in the spirit of depraved competition, dumping load after draining load in some orifice the other wasn’t occupying at the time.

Lo and I were quite proud of ourselves, turning him from a curious virgin bottom to a full-fledge houseboy treating us to deep-tissue massages and taking our food orders between trysts of carnal and sleeping pleasures.

Unfortunately, the weekend could have ended on a much higher note, if it hadn’t been for Lo wanting to air out the stuffy room from the staunch stench of feet and ass. Being that it was late, and his grandma was way overdue, and being the apartment was on the second floor, I thought it would be fun to crank out my final nutt by fucking our “used” house bitch out of the wide-open window.

Everything was good.

I was shoving everything I had in me into his battered butthole trying to get him with due diligence to get him to give up his recent vow of stubborn silence. I wanted him to let the empty parking lot below know how good he was getting dicked down. He was being hardheaded, grabbing onto the brick exterior.

I thought I had all the time in the world, so I didn’t mind. That was until I saw some headlights in the distance turn into the entrance of the housing projects, making its way towards the parking lot.

Oh shit, I thought.

He must’ve seen it too because he started letting out deep sighs as I bucked against him harder and faster, stammering stammer like he caught a case of Tourettes syndrome and wasn’t missing any of the cuss words.

“I’m almost there, baby,” I said, looking at the car turning into the parking lot. “Shit, now or never.”

I drove it in deep, spearing him for all it was worth, and soon splattered his guts with what was left of my sputtering nutt. He, in turn, let out a loud betraying cry just as four men got out of the car and happened to look up at us; more at him since he was the one hanging out of the window.

Lo, who was standing nearby, told me to hold him still.

Not knowing what to expect, I did what I was told and held him steady out of the window while Donavon tried hard to work his way back in.

Lo grabbed the window and pushed it all the way down on him.

It wasn’t like hurting him or anything, but being that Donavon kept his hands outside of the windowsill, it made it very hard to open it from his angel. And with him making such a huge fuss over it, it only drew a lot of unwanted attention to himself.

“Put your clothes on!” Lo shouted, already clothed and throwing on his size sixteen boots.

By the time I got my head wrapped around what was going on, I was out in the parking lot next to Lo standing face to face with the four men, one of whom was definitely a sissy with processed hair.

“’member how you said we set you up?” Lo shouted up to Donavon still struggling to get the window open. “Think of this as the sequel.”

 

Huh?

“We left the door wide open for ya to go get some.” Lo said to the men.

Three of the dudes gave a hard head nod and headed back around the corner of the building from where we came from. Lo walked the sissy over to another building. I took my lonesomeness as a cue to get in my car to go home with Donavon hanging out of the window cussing up a storm, trying to get unstuck.

▪ ▪ ▪

Days later, Lo called me up and told me about what unfolded after we left. Which by that point wasn’t hard to piece together being I stuck around long enough to listen to Donavon hollered to the heavens as his body roughly bobbed back and forth out of the window. Except the part his grandmother came home the next morning to find her only grandson, the pride of the community, hanging out of the window butt-naked with his slutty butt iced in dried cum.

Shortly after that, he was put out of his apartment and became good friends with Desirae becoming community property for the bad boys of the projects.