Matt's new job

- “Has the new bloke had his fight yet?”

- “No, not yet. Has to happen today though; the men want to see something. He looks pretty strong, so we need to get him a guy who can handle him and is up for it.”

That was all Matt could hear, the speakers had already moved on. This snippet of conversation had not been meant for his ears, but inside the plastic porta-potty where he sat he had heard it clearly.

He chuckled. So that sort of gang it was here, where you had to fight your way in. Well, it was fine with him, he was indeed broad and strong for his age and he had fought enough. He proudly flexed his biceps. As a kid he had done judo, then his father had sent him to boxing, first to youth boxing and then for serious. Especially when he was unemployed for six months, he had trained fanatically at the gym. He could not afford the membership anymore, but they let him train for free, because he was good and always willing to spar with the others. Besides, in the neighbourhood where he lived there were often brawls on the street and he had never looked bad in that.

It was his second day on this job: two medium-sized apartment buildings, the shells of which were almost finished. Then the insulation, intermediate walls, and the windows had to be put in. The work was heavy, but not too difficult and the workmates seemed like pleasant guys who gave him clear instructions and were helpful. But who would he have to fight? They were all older than him. Two older men looked mighty strong, but it still seemed weird to him to fight a fifty-year-old bloke. Well, he would see, until four o'clock it was still a long time to go.

 Faster than expected came the lunch break, outside, downstairs. Helmets off, and just like the others he took off his mandatory safety jacket too, as the weather was still warm. With the other men he sat down on a wall in the sun, the plastic sandwich box and the water bottle in front of him on the floor. Now the team from the other flat also arrived, also eager to rest in this sunny spot; besides, they all knew each other. Everyone was sitting or lying relaxed in the sun.

- “Hey, what are you doing here, faggot? Isn't this work too hard for you?”

He looked up. A still young, sturdy guy in a dirty wife beater stood in front of him, a big grin on his unshaven face. Suddenly the bastard kicked his bottle away as if it were a football. Matt didn't think twice, got up and lunged at him, aiming his fists straight at that grin. A couple of punches came in quite a bit too, but the guy was all but a push-over and gave him heavy punches back, dancing deftly around him so that his initial speed got bogged down. 

When he was about to place another left hook on the guy's jaw, things turned out a bit differently. He was grabbed by his wrist and upper arm and, his arm being used as leverage, he was thrown painfully hard to the ground. Immediately his opponent jumped on top of him and started pounding him in the face, but from this position he still managed to push him off. They rolled over each other, he managed to get both his legs over that body and continued fighting with his arms. What he wanted, of course, was to get through his defences and throw punches to his face. But the arms of the other were so fucking strong; he did what he could but could not stand up to that brute force. At some point he was simply twisted away by his wrist, and then he was the one under.   

- “Enough, mates, he’s shown what he has got,” came a deep voice, and he was released. As he lay on his face, there was applause. Fuck, so this had been the fight, he only thought about that now. Okay, he had not won but he had shown that he was not a wimp.

But it wasn't finished yet. Suddenly he felt two men taking off his work boots and pulling his trousers and briefs off his ass. Oh no, not that! Around him a buzzing sounded louder and louder:

- “Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him!”

And his opponent of a moment ago was again on top of him, kicking his legs apart and pressing a wet bell-end against his ass.

“You'd best cooperate,” said a not unfriendly voice above him, as his hole was smeared with something wet.

And after a while, he could not have done anything else either. A rock-hard pole forced its way up his ass and slid back and forth with long strokes. It hurt; he was reminded of that time at school when the priest ..., but after a while he couldn't help but like it, and surrendered. In fact, he just wanted it to go on like this. He was fucked hard, while at the same time his own hardened cock was rhythmically milked. After a while, his fucker began to snort and to pant, gave a few more hard thrusts and came screaming in his hole. About the same time, he himself squirted his juice into the bloke's fist.

Applause again, even louder than after the fight, but also the smell and sounds of cumming men around them.

Moments later, they were both lying next to each other, sweating and panting. 

- “No offense mate, but that's what we do with the newbies here. No need to explain to me that you're not a faggot, and you'll get that bottle back of course. I just wanted to get you really mad. That worked and you fought like hell. My name is Bruce, by the way, we'll see each other later.”

And after a few teasing blows to his crotch, Bruce got up and stepped away.