Tough

Doc got into Ross's old truck and slammed the door. He glanced at Ross, saw the set of his jaw, the hands flexing on the steering wheel and sighed.

"It's not like you didn't set it up for me for Christ sake," he said.

Ross didn't answer for a moment as he pulled away from the back of the doctor's office. Finally he shook his head and mumbled something. Doc put his hand to his ear.

"Sorry? Didn't catch that."

"I said you didn't have to fuck him," Ross snarled.

"Oh come on, Ross, he's a fully grown man. Believe me, I know when I say his balls have dropped." Doc paused for a moment. "Nice ones, too. Taut sac, hefty, nice cock, too, if I can be so bold-"

"Goddammit," Ross growled, his hands gripping the wheel.

"Listen, don't be mad at me! I never took you for the jealous type. Interesting."

"I'm not jealous," Ross said. "I was given the job to take care of him, make him a man and that doesn't include getting fucked in the ass by the local pervert doctor!"

Doc leaned toward Ross, his eyes searching the larger man's face. "Holy shit, what is your problem? What happened to the Ross I used to know? Does having sex with another man make you less manly? You could kill a guy with your bare hands, are you less of a man?"

Ross didn't answer.

Doc sat back and looked out the window into the darkness. It was going to be a long 30 minute drive to the senator's. He could smell the fields, the hay ready to cut, if it's something you could smell. He looked at Ross again and thought of crawling over to give him a blow job. Like the good old days. The set of his jaw said the old days were done.

"Did you know Otis isn't Otis's real name?" Doc said.

Ross glanced his way. "Huh?"

Doc smiled at him, knowing he at least had an opening.  "Otis," he said. "Not his real name."

"Well, what is?"

"Fergal."

Ross looked at him hard. "Are you shittin' me?"

"Nope! He told me this about two years ago, told me to keep it a secret but, have I ever kept a secret from you?"

"For the last two years, yes," Ross said, wryly. "Why did he change his name to Otis?"

"Well, he told me long before we met, that fateful day I filled in for Andrew, he had a regular gig servicing rich old white guys." Doc cleared his throats and adopted a deep, gruff voice. "Them motherfuckin' old white men loved mah big black cock but then one day I was slammin' this fag, holdin' his head in a pillow and he starts yellin' 'Oh, Otis, you so big!' and "Fuck me Otis!.'"

Ross was laughing at this point, holding a hand to his mouth.

Doc was laughing as well. "He told me the guy couldn't call him Fergal, had always thought of him as Otis." Doc changed back to his Otis voice. "'Racist motherfucker said he fantasized that I was a slave and he was the master bein' raped by the slave.'"

"Jesus," Ross said, shaking his head. "But how did he get a name like Fergal?"

"His dad was an Irishman." Both men laughed, shaking their heads.

"Hard to imagine," Ross said.

"I suspect his accent and the way he talks is a put on, too. It's become part of his act, I think."

"The bad old days," Ross said, smiling a little. "Remember when you met Otis?"

Doc sighed and closed his eyes, smiling a little. "Yeah, the bad old days," he said. "It was when I met you, too."

------------------------------

Doc met Ross after the war when they were both in college. He had seen the lumbering, raw-boned young man around campus but had written him off as just another hyper heterosexual hayseed from a ranching family.

Doc wasn't Doc back then, he was just Harry Branson, premed, the son of a history professor at school who had wanted to name him Hastings after the battle of Hastings, which didn't happen because Harry's mother, a lawyer, didn't let it. So the professor settled on Harald.

Young Harry had always been different, picked on, bullied. He learned, like many kids like him in the middle of Oklahoma, to keep himself to himself and hide what he really felt. He developed crushes on other boys, but early on, after he had been caught staring at one boy too long, he learned that it "weren't right" to like boys that way.

Not that it was anything but innocent. He didn't know about sex until much later, of course, and by then he had learned to hide behind a class clown persona. He was the funny kid, the kid everyone laughed at and sometimes with, the kid who could talk his way out of anything.

When he was a teenager his father moved the family out of town to an old farm. Harry wasn't much for scrabbling around in the dirt, roping cattle and shooting guns, but he did enjoy the sweep of the prairie, the loneliness of the tall grass at twilight.

The old man hired a crew to come in and repair the barn, build stalls, and prepare the grounds for the horses he had always wanted to raise. The contractor hired two itinerant workers, a common occurrence back then. One was older, in his forties, while the other seemed to be in his twenties.

Harry found them fascinating. The older one was gray, somewhat fat, but strong with thick short hair and a perpetual shadow of a beard. The younger one was trim, athletic looking and boyish. Despite his pockmarked face and crooked teeth Harry found him strangely attractive. It was the easy swing of his muscular body as he worked, the cheerfulness in the face of his particular circumstances. Being a traveling worker was far from an easy life.

Each day the two would break for lunch, eat fast, then head down to the pond for a swim. The air was hot, sweltering and dusty and the pond was a much needed respite from the summer weather.  Hoping to catch a sight of them nude, Harry followed one day, crossing the stream down the way from the pond and creeping up to an old cottonwood that rose up on the bank overlooking the pond. The pond was actually a beaver pond, which the workers had been tasked by Harry's father to clear, but they left that job for the last for obvious reasons.

When Harry shimmied up the tree to a crook where he could hunker down and blend in he could see the two swimming. He frowned in disappointment, thinking he would have to wait until they got out before seeing anything interesting.

As he watched though he noticed the younger man dipping below the water in front of his older coworker. The older man was standing in shoulder deep water, and he sighed, bringing his face forward until he blew bubbles in the water. After a moment the younger worker's head popped up, gasping for air.

The two laughed a little then repeated the sequence. Harry watched, puzzled, not fully sure about what was going on. The older man threw his head back and said in a strained, quiet voice, "Oh fuuuuuccck."

When the young man's head popped up again the older man looked around then said, "Come on. Over here."

The two waded over to a large flat rock on the pond's edge and just below the cottonwood. Harry cowered in his hiding spot, sure he was going to be found. When the two got closer to the rock, though, he watched in fascination as they emerged from the water. Their stiff cocks broke the water's surface and Harry held a hand over his mouth. He could feel his own prick thumping in his jeans.

The older man sat up on the rock, spreading his thighs. He was rather heavy, and covered in thick hair. His cock was amazingly thick, like a great big sausage, waving around over a heavily forested bush with two large balls.  He spread his legs wide and his balls slid down low in the soft-skinned sac, hanging like pendulous sacks of meat all the way to the rock.  Harry's own ball sac was sucking up into his body at this point.  The younger man stood between the spread thighs in knee deep water and grabbed the thick cock presented to him. Harry's eyes widened as the younger man dove down, taking the cock into his mouth.

His buddy threw his head back, smiling, his eyes closed. Harry watched from his vantage point just above the two, his prick thudding wildly in his pants, his hand over his mouth. The older man sat up again, reaching over his lover's body to grab a tight, round ass cheek.

"Love that ass," he sighed. The younger man mumbled something around the cock in his mouth. "Lemme eat it some," the older man said.

The young man let go of the cock he had been gobbling up and climbed onto the rock. He turned around, straddling the older man's head and squatted down, bringing his ass down to his coworker's face. Harry nearly gasped as he saw the older man spread the ass cheeks wide with his hands.

"Fuck yeah," the young worker said as his friend's tongue began lapping at his hole with powerful strokes. He bent down and went back to sucking the fat cock.  Harry could see the damp sheen on the older man's prick, and that's when the boy exploded.  He watched, dazed, as the heavyset worker ran his tongue up and down the crack of the young man's ass, sucked his balls, pulled his cock back and sucked it, too. All the while Harry was cumming in his pants, his teeth biting into the palm of his hand to keep from crying out.

After a few moments the young worker stood up again, turned around, then sat down on the big cock without ceremony. He just grabbed it, held it up straight, then slid down onto it with a sigh.

Even as the two bucked around on the rock, grunting and cursing, Harry's prick was hardening quickly. He shifted a bit, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling his wet cock out. He brought his cum soaked hand up to his nose, then put it into his mouth. The taste of his cum drove him to distraction. As he watched the two men below him he sucked his cum off his fingers.

The young man on top rode the older guy's cock like a pro, his erection flopping about. With each stroke it swung down to slap the hairy belly of his lover and then swung back up to slap his own flat, hairless belly.  When the younger man finally came, shooting a rope of jism onto the hairy chest of his lover Harry came as well, his own load spraying into the palm of his hand.

That experience was an eye opener for Harry. He spied on the two workers each day after that, without them suspecting, until they left. Then came a long dry spell. You don't just go out and find another guy who wants to fuck when you live in the middle of the Bible Belt.

It wasn't until college, and the circumstances that led to his meeting Ross, that Harry "Doc" Branson was able to fulfill his dream, and it came in the form of an assistant professor.

The young teacher, a PhD student lecturing in a prerequisite literature class, was an immediate crush for young Harry. It was Harry's first time away from home, living in the dorms at school, and the young professor, one Andrew Burroughs, was as dreamy as they came. And nice. But mostly cute. He was rather thin, and short, with fine features, almost bird-like, and big green eyes behind thick-rimmed glasses. Unlike the older, tenured professors and even some other lecturers, he would stay after class to answer questions.

Harry always had questions.

Finally, one day, as Harry was gazing dreamily into the rather magnified eyes of Professor Burroughs, the lecturer suggested they go for a coffee.

"You're so full of questions," Andrew said, "I feel like I need to spend extra time with you."

Harry's heart jumped. "Yes, I'm a dummy," he said. "Premed. Gimme a cadaver and I'll be happy, but Shakespeare eludes me."

So they went for coffee, then to the professor's apartment. There Andrew pulled Harry down onto a threadbare couch, kissing him, tugging at his clothes. Harry thrilled at the sensation of Andrew's tongue exploring his mouth. He pawed at the professor, not fully sure what to do, but just knowing he wanted to feel every bit of his skin.

Andrew stopped for a moment and grinned at Harry. "You don't have much experience in this do you?"

Harry shook his head, blushing. Andrew pulled his shirt up over his head then stood up and pulled his pants off. He had a slight build, his chest nearly concave, his arms and legs thin, reedy. But Harry wasn't looking at any of that. He was staring at the enormous cock that hung between Andrew's thighs.

"That's...that's as big as my arm," Harry said.

Andrew chuckled. "Standup," he ordered. Harry did as he was told. Andrew quickly undressed the younger man as Harry stared down at his large prick. It was at about half-mast, and at least 10 inches in length. It dwarfed his own cock, which was standing at attention when his pants came off. Harry could see the pink head peaking out of the wrinkled foreskin.

"You wanna learn how to take this?" Andrew asked. He reached down and stroked his huge cock, pulling the foreskin back to reveal a broad head. Harry nodded, mesmerized. "Go ahead, touch it."

Harry wrapped a hand around the shaft, feeling it jump slightly at his touch. "Stroke it," Andrew said softly. Harry did as he was told. He pushed the foreskin back, watching the cock head emerge, swell and spread like a cobra's hood. He breathed in its scent and licked his lips.

"Can I..." Harry looked up at Andrew.

"Of course," Andrew said. Harry went to his knees. The heavy cock swung up in his hand, nearly fully hard now. He flicked a tongue over the velvety surface of the head, tasting it. Something splattered on the head and he looked up. A stream of spit dangled from Andrew's wet lips. Harry groaned, licking the spit from the head, then, with an almost urgent, abject need, engulfing the head with his drooling mouth.

The sensation was amazing. The massive cock barely fit into his mouth, and he couldn't fit more than just the head in. Both his hands stroked the fat, steel-hard shaft, his tongue roamed the firm surface of the hood, precum spilling into his mouth. His lips hooked over the spreading helmet, feeling it pulse in response to his active tongue.

"Pretty good for a virgin," Andrew murmured. He held Harry's head steady as the college freshman concentrated on his work. Andrew pulled back, though, and grabbed Harry's hand. "Let's take a bath," he said.

Harry followed Andrew into the bathroom where the professor drew a bath. They climbed in, on their knees facing each other, and Andrew soaped up the younger man's body. It was silent work. The drip drip of the bath faucet was the only sound above the heavy breathing of both men as soapy hands slid silently over wet skin.

Harry gulped as Andrew's hands slid between the ass cheeks, caressing his throbbing anus. A finger slid in, just as Andrew's lips met his. Harry arched his back, remembering the two workers he had seen in his younger days. For his part he seemed to be concentrating on Andrew's huge prick, which he hadn't let go of since they had entered the bath.

Andrew finger fucked Harry, slowly stretching is hole, sliding his soapy fingers in and out as they kissed. Finally Harry couldn't take it any more. His cock jumped to his belly and began spewing cum. Andrew bent down and took the pulsating cock into his hot mouth and Harry finally let go of the other man's big cock to hold himself up by gripping the tub's edges.

"Wow," Andrew said, thickly as he came back up. He kissed Harry again with cum-coated lips. Harry groaned, running his tongue around the young professor's mouth. "Turn around," Andrew whispered. Harry turned around, arching his back and spreading his legs as far as the tub allowed. He felt the massive head of Andrew's cock slid between his ass cheeks and nestle against his pulsing anus. Andrew pushed forward, opening Harry's virgin hole with just the tip. Harry felt the sting and leaned forward.

"It hurts," he moaned, as Andrew withdrew and pushed in again, this time a little more of the head.

"I'm not even a quarter of the way to the biggest part," Andrew said. He pulled back and leaned down. Harry sighed as he felt Andrew's tongue swirl over his aching anus. The professor spat on his hole and repositioned himself, pushing in again a bit deeper.

And so it went until, after much work, Andrew was sliding in and out of Harry's stretched hole. The younger man was crying, in pain and ecstasy, as his ass felt the glorious punishment of the biggest cock he had ever imagined. And when Andrew finally came, shooting his cum deep inside, while his hips pressed against Harry's ass, Harry came as well.

So began a whirlwind relationship with the professor. Needless to say, Harry didn't need to show up to class any longer and an A+ was assured. But he did anyway, and twice a day they found a way to make love. Every day Harry's ass seemed to throb at the very thought of that giant prick slamming home.

But then one day Andrew rather nervously met Harry for lunch in the cafeteria.  He looked around, as if someone were watching them, then leaned forward and whispered, "I need a favor."

Harry shrugged. "Sure, anything."

"Don't say that yet," Andrew grimaced. "I...I have a side gig. I can't make it, and I'm hoping you can fill in for me."

"What kind of gig?"

Andrew laughed a little and shook his head. "I don't know how to describe it. Uh...it's an entertainment thing." He looked around again then leaned in closer over the table. "Don't look, but do you see that old guy over there with the big fellow?"

Harry casually glanced in the direction Andrew's eyes were indicating. An older man was sitting with a tall, handsome man with a shock of black hair and a mean look on his face.

"Yeah, I've seen that kid...he's scary looking. A hick."

Andrew laughed again, quietly. "Well...the guy he's talking to has a side business. He supplies entertainers for a particular clientele around here. Sort of, uh, house parties. Serve drinks, and, uh, entertain the ladies and gentlemen, if they could be called that."

Harry's eyebrows went up. He leaned forward, too, and whispered, "You mean, fuck them?"

Andrew held in another nervous laugh. "No, more like put on a show."

"Oh," Harry said. Andrew smiled at the look of disappointment.

"Don't worry, my slutty little whore, there is fucking involved. So...what do you say?"

"What does it pay?"

---------------------------------

Harry waited outside his dorm for the ride to his "entertainment gig." When the late model Ford sedan pulled up with the old guy driving and the mean looking kid in the back Harry took a deep breath and climbed in. No one said anything as they pulled away so Harry said, to no one in particular, "I'm Harry."

"Ross," said the hulking kid next to him. His large hand engulfed Harry's entirely.

The older man looked in the rear view mirror. "No one cares," he said, gruffly. "You ever serve drinks?"

Harry shook his head.

"Ah, whatever, doesn't matter." The rest of the car ride was spent in silence.

They pulled up to a large mansion, surrounded by acres of grassland with grazing bison. The old man pulled around back and stopped the car. He turned around and looked at the two in back.

"Go inside and you'll meet a guy named Otis," he said to Harry. "He'll tell you what to do." He looked at Ross. "Show the kid the ropes."

Ross and Harry got out of the car, which promptly drove away. They went into the door leading into a kitchen area. An imposing black man in jeans and a button down shirt was directing several cooks, speaking in fluent Spanish. He glanced at them briefly then continued his conversation. Harry could barely keep his eyes off the black man. As tall as Ross and even broader, with a shiny bald head. He was mountainous, dangerous looking, and for a boy who rarely saw black people like Harry, he was frightening in the best kind of way. His skin was a deep mahogany, and he was nearly hairless. Harry could see the muscles rippling in his smooth forearms where the shirt sleeves were rolled up.

Harry looked up at Ross, who was staring at Otis grimly. "So...what is this gig anyway?" he asked Ross.

Ross turned to him and Harry stepped back a bit. The bigger man was a bit intense.

"You really don't know? Andrew didn't tell you?"

Harry shook his head. Ross smirked a little. He was about to speak when Otis interrupted.

"Hey you two faggots, git yo' dick acceptin' asses over heah."

Harry swallowed and stepped forward with Ross.

"You ever serve drinks," he asked. Harry shook his head. Otis sighed. He went into a quick class on serving, punctuating each lesson with "you dumb motherfuckers" or "you cocksuckers."

When he was done Harry knew to hold the tray firmly, offer fresh drinks demurely, and take only glasses that are empty. Failure, according to Otis, was grounds for an ass whooping.

"Now, the guests are arriving, so put this shit on," Otis said, pointing at a pile of clothes. "Come back in here pronto. They's ain't the type of folks who want to wait around for drinks."

Harry and Ross took their uniforms into the large pantry and began changing. Harry watched the larger man out of the corner of his eye, noticing the scars, the muscles rippling under the covering of black fur. He shuddered a little. When he was nude he stood with his hands hiding his crotch, uncomfortably, as Ross went through the uniforms, his large cock swinging easily.

"I guess this is yours," Ross said. He held a frilly bit of cloth up.

Harry blinked. "What's that?"

"Uh, it's a maid's outfit...sort of. Andrew wears it all the time." He held up some lace stockings. "These, too."

"But, I don't look like a girl," Harry squeaked.

Ross smiled a little. "You will. I'll help you with your makeup and wig, on account of I have to help Andrew anyway because he's blind as a bat when he takes his glasses off."

Harry took the frilly outfit and, after some figuring, slipped it over his head.  About mid-chest it stopped, though, and Ross loosened the laces in the back until it fit.

"Andrew is a bit skinnier than you," Ross murmured as he tightened up the corset. He handed Harry a couple falsies, which fit inside the bodice. Harry looked down at himself. It was, indeed, sort of a maid's outfit. The front part of the skirt, though, was wide open, the lacy fringe running up the middle of his thigh, with the back of the skirt dipping down to barely cover his ass.

"Where's the rest?" Harry asked. Ross chuckled a little. His uniform was a pair of crotchless ballet pants that clung to his body wonderfully, climbing nicely up into the cleft of his muscular ass. The top was a short waisted coat that stayed open, revealing his well-muscled chest and abs.

"I'm afraid I'm no Andrew," Harry said, looking down at his rather forlorn package.

Ross shrugged. "Not many are, but you'll do nicely."

Harry smiled, feeling the heat spread a bit as Ross eyed his now growing crotch. "So, makeup and wig?"

Ross "pertied" him up and then stood him in front of a full length mirror on the back of the door. Harry's mouth dropped open. He looked like a pretty girl with thick black hair, black lace stockings to mid-thigh, rather large breasts, high heels and a half-erect penis between his legs.

"Good thing you're about hairless except where it matters," Ross said. "Andrew has to shave everywhere."

Just then Harry's moment of self-admiration was shattered when the door slammed open. Otis stood there glaring at them.

"Let's go, let's go motherfuckers!"

Harry grabbed a drink tray from the kitchen counter and followed Ross out to a large patio at the side of the house. Men and women, dressed to the nines and obviously very well off, all wearing masks, were beginning to arrive. Both the men and women eyed Harry, or Harriet as he began calling himself in his head, hungrily.  They also watched Ross, though in a different way.

They took chairs around tables and drank, talking gaily about this, that and everything. Women were kissing women, men were kissing men, couples were wandering off to private areas and others were openly having sex in front of everyone.

Harry watched as a woman grabbed Ross's cock and offered it to her husband. The man took it in his mouth, sucking the half-erect pole in as far as he could.

Ross stood stoically as the man sucked his prick until an older gentleman intervened. "Now, now, you know the rules," he said, pulling Ross's now hard cock from the man's eager mouth. He pushed Ross along. "No diddling the servants!"

Just then Harry felt a hand slide up the back of his thigh to cup his ass. He turned to see a man sitting in a chair next to him smiling up at him. "Are you sure?" He asked loudly.

Everyone laughed as the man who had chastised the guest earlier threw his hands in the air. "I'm sure!"

"Ah well," the guest sighed, letting go of Harry's ass. Harry's mouth went dry and his prick jumped, but he kept serving drinks as the orgy raged on.

After an hour of serving drinks Otis pulled them into the kitchen. He glared at Ross. "Did you tell this bitch what she's supposed to do?"

Ross shook his head. "I figured Andrew did."

Harry looked from one to the other. "What?"

Ross sighed. "Well, Andrew and Otis, uh, play act and I get into it. Kind of a fight over you. And then..."

"...and then?" Harry asked.

"Then we fuck you six ways to Sunday," Otis said bluntly. "Cuz if it's one thing these rich white motherfuckers love it's a black man raping a woman...especially one with a dick."

Harry felt his eyes widen. Otis and Ross both looked down at Harry's crotch.

"Looks like you ain't gonna mind," Otis said wryly. Harry looked down. His cock was swinging up. He shook his head.

"I-I won't mind," he whispered nervously.

"Come with me, then," Otis said. He grabbed a bag and pulled Harry into a bathroom. "Bend over," he said, gruffly. Harry did as he was told. He heard some rustling with the bag then felt a cold tube slide up his ass.

"I warmed it up so don't be a pussy," Otis said as cool liquid was pumped into Harry's bowls. After a moment Otis stood up.

"Git that shit outcha ass and then come back out and we'll start this shindig. We don't want you spraying shit on everyone." He handed Harry a tube. "And loosen up and lube up. You gonna need it."

--------------------------------------

Harry stood in the middle of the room with his tray when he saw the elderly gentleman who seemed to enforce the rules nod. The door slammed open from outside, causing everyone to jump and look. Otis was standing there, wearing a pair of jeans and nothing else, his massively muscled torso gleaming, smooth and hairless. A lady screamed and fainted. Harry thought he was going to faint.

"There you are, you little bitch!"

Harry stood still, his eyes wide. He could feel his penis swaying as it rose in anticipation.

"Ima gonna impregnate yo ass, bitch!"  He took a step forward but then stopped as Ross came in behind Harry.

"Now hold on," Ross said. He looked mean. Another woman screamed and Harry saw several men lean forward in anticipation. "She's mine."

"She ain't," Otis thundered. He stalked forward and grabbed Harry's arm roughly.

Ross slapped his hand down. Otis swung his fist, which Ross blocked easily. Harry fell to the ground as the two men began to grapple. The crowd pushed forward in a tightening circle, their eyes intense with pleasure. Harry watched the two men wrestle, throwing each other around easily, their muscles bulging, Ross's cock swinging freely.

He almost forgot his line until Ross looked at him in desperation. Harry stood up in his heels.

"Wait," he squeaked. "I, uh, I can...I mean, you can share me...can't you?"

The two men looked at Harry and then at each other. The crowd held its breath. The fighters slowly loosened their grip on each other and turned to Harry. Otis undid the fly of his jeans and pulled his cock out. There was an audible gasp. His cock was a deep, almost purple black, a thick, veiny member that made Harry's mouth water in anticipation. Otis was completely shaved of hair, which enhanced his already huge penis. Otis shook the long, thick member at Harry.

"Well, bitch, get to it," he said.

Harry stepped forward, bending down in front of Otis. Otis slapped him on the cheek with his cock. Harry marveled at the weight and heat of it. He felt his skirt back lift up and two hands on his ass. A finger, presumably Ross's, plunged into his ass.

The crowd was silent as Otis fed Harry his monstrous cock. Harry took it eagerly, feeling it swell and pulse on his tongue. He put his hands on the powerful thighs, steadying himself as Ross thrust fingers into his ass. The skin was smooth, warm, muscles firm and twitching under his palms. He could feel the semi-soft cock grow in his mouth, stretching his lips wonderfully. His tongue caressed the firm head and a bit of precum spilled out. Otis slapped his cheek. "Take it deep, bitch," he said. Harry opened as wide as he could. Otis's cock was nearly as big as Andrew's, so it wasn't a surprise that he could fit it to the back of his throat with the practice he had.

Ross stood up suddenly and Harry felt his thick, hard cock pressed against his anus. With one powerful thrust he was in, causing Harry to gag on Otis's meat. Tears came to his eyes as Ross pounded his ass and Otis stuffed his mouth.

He heard moans coming from the crowd and realized they were pushing in, men with their cocks in hand, women with fingers buried, everyone masturbating as they watched the two powerful men take the slight sissy girl maid.

"Hey man, you think we could both fit?" Otis suddenly asked.

"Sure," Ross said.

Otis pulled his cock out and pushed Harry upright. Ross grabbed the backs of his thighs and, still inside him, lifted him, bringing his his knees to his chest. Harry watched as Otis kicked off his jeans then knelt in front of them. The big black man licked Harry's cock and balls, then moved his tongue down to Ross's balls before licking the stretched rim of Harry's ass. He reached a thick finger up and slid it in with Ross's cock.

Harry, who had taken Andrew's incredible pole at least twice a day for quite some time moaned a little. A second finger slid in. He looked down at the bald head as Otis tongued his balls, sucking one then the other into his wet mouth.

"Goddam," Otis said, "she's like a fuckin' garbage can."

He stood up and dribbled spit down to the head of his hard cock. The purple helmet glistened as he brought it into position. Ross lifted Harry easily, his muscles flexing, until he was out completely. Then Otis put his own cock up to Ross's, gripped them both in one hand, and shoved them together into Harry's loosened hole.

Someone gasped in the crowd as the two men slid simultaneously into Harry's abused ass. Harry cried out, throwing his head back in pain and ecstasy. He could feel his anus thudding as he came, shooting his load onto his belly.

After only a few strokes the two men pulled out and Harry fell to his knees. Ross and Otis stood over him, jacking their rods until, almost at the same time, they began to shoot. Harry held his face up as the hot goo splattered. He ran his tongue over sticky lips, tasting the thick cum coating them.

He was able to open one eye, as the other was covered in a particularly large glob of cum.  He noticed then that both Ross and Otis were slick with cum themselves as the guests shot their loads into the circle. Cum was still flying, hitting him in his face, on his shoulders. Men were stepping forward, pressing their cocks against him as they came. Within moments he was in a press of bodies, a cock pressed against his lips and he opened up, accepting the hot load of cum. Another pushed in as that man was pushed aside and filled his mouth with a hot load. Another man pressed in, pushing his hard cock against Harry's filled mouth. Harry opened wide and then he had two cocks in his mouth, both spilling seed on his tongue. He gagged a little and another man grabbed his hips, plunging his cock into his worn out ass.

It was Ross who pulled him up by his arms and pulled him through the crowd. Hands grabbed him, cocks dripping with cum rubbed against him. Finally they reached the kitchen where Harry fell to a heap on the floor.

Harry had a recollection that Otis came in, still naked but with a fist full of money. He counted out money to the cooks and to Ross and Harry then disappeared. Ross pulled Harry into the shower with him and cleaned him off gently.

Harry enjoyed the feel of the big strong hands sliding over his body, cleaning off the cum of countless men. He kissed the strong, firm lips of the older man, the first and last time that happened.

Then they both dressed and, at that point, found their ride waiting outside for them. They each paid him a portion of their cash and then sat silent on the drive back to the dorms.

At one point Harry looked at Ross who shook his head. "It's a living, I guess," he said wryly.

------------------------------

Ross pulled the truck into the Senator's driveway. He glanced over at Doc as they stopped. Otis was standing at the front door, still imposing even at the age of 65.

Doc frowned. "You still mad?"

Ross shook his head. "Come on, let's go."

The two old friends got out of the truck and walked toward the front door.