"We have reason to believe that man first walked upright to free his hands for masturbation."

Thursday, July 4, 2013

All Male Fiction: Fucking Breeders!

By: Unknown Author
Sex is my hobby. I love fucking the way some people love sports, and I play hardball with hard guys anywhere I travel.

Me, I'm only twenty-five years old, big in every way. Anywhere I travel in this US of A, there's nothing I like better than to waggle my long dickbait at some big-mouthed cockgobbler. I'm young, tall, good looking, in shape, and HUNG, so I have my pick of anyone I might want to seduce. I love seducing and screwing straight guys, and I usually don't have a problem getting them in the sack.

I operate on the premise that all those hicks in the sticks don't have many options and it doesn't take much to convince them to go for it. Once that sucker's hooked, I reel him into my crotch for a marathon suck job. A man from every state in the union has squirmed down there on the end of my cock at one time or another.

Of all the straight men I screw, married guys are best. Those wide-eyed former high school quarterbacks trapped by the prom queen for a breeding life in the suburbs and nine-to-five tedium Assistant Managing at the Piggly-Wiggly.

The married ones are always looking for something to spice up their sex lives. They're itching to run home-with their freshly-fucked asses still oozing my jizz, and fuck their wives with their pathetic hard-ons. And they'll cum thinking about my juice-filled cock-sausage as they feel their holes still gaping open.

See, married guys don't take this big cock of mine for granted. Those housebound bucks are always feeling frisky. A married guy is always the most helpless when you get him alone, face-to-crotch with his sexuality. He doesn't know why he's naked on his knees. He doesn't know why he's sucking on my cock like some desperate whore. His dick gets hard at the taste of my big, flopping balls filling his cheeks like a chipmunk, and he doesn't know why. All he knows is that he's just got to have it.

I like 'em even better when they put up a fuss. Like they can't believe they're going to get fucked. One farm boy from Iowa was still protesting about how much he loved chicks, even as my hot cock snuck right up his hole!

Even while I'm riding their asses, they're still babbling on about what macho straight men they are. One married yuppie in Sacramento jabbered about how he liked my big muscles and how much weights did I have to lift to get those radical lats. I just slipped his fuzzy blond butt onto my hard one for an answer. That shut him up fast.

When I get into a town, I head for the local gym. That's the only place in a small town besides the bus depot where you're sure to find action. You'll see me around the pool or the weight room. I don't need to do much but stand there. I'm the guy who saunters into a locker room and the sexual thermostat shoots up a hundred degrees.

And when the studs start to feel the heat, a subliminal competition always surfaces. It's not like the usual lukewarm days when they walked around the showers trying not to let other guys catch them checking each other out.

Once there's a big cock on the premises, it gets them all flustered. Like randy colts frisking about in the corral. There's more horseplay than usual; more towel-snapping, more butt-slapping, more goosing. The dicks are dangling more freely than usual. Pretty soon everybody's half-hard, showing me what they can offer.

Shit, they'd all love to fuck each other. There's not one jock around who isn't wondering how tasty his buddy's cock is. But none of these testosterone-stuffed bull studs had the guts to try it. They know each other too well. They grew up together, played football together, slept side by side in Boy Scout tents.

That's why they appreciate me. A tall, dark stranger like me reminds them that sexual attraction is the energy binding them all together. Hell, the only reason they got married was so it would look okay to spend their nights out with the boys.

They know I'll give them the nerve to realize the fantasies they don't dare allow themselves.

Each one of them senses what I can do for him… to him.

When I call, they come... and cum.

Like with this guy I met at a gym in Atlanta last night, Billy, I think his name was. A university jock, twenty-two years old, and already married. I took him back to my motel and immediately put on one of the straight fuck-films on the motel's TV.

"Look at that bitch!" he said as he grinned and downed his beer. "Look at her suck that cock!"
I knew the porn would make him hard and horny fast, and it would be pretty easy to nail him after that.

"You like that huh?" I asked.

"Oh yeah!" he exclaimed.

"Whip it out and jerk it off if you want," I replied.

Horny-hypnotized by the idea, Billy stripped his pants and underwear down right there in the light of the TV. He chuckled nervous-like. "Coach said no girls before the big game, but didn't say anything about beating off," he said as he rubbed his balls like he was feeling them for the first time.

Billy was beautiful, too. Stocky, broad-chested, golden blond hair down to his shoulders, with one of those pretty-boy mouths that was always half-open. My boner's getting hard just writing about what happened last night.

"She really loves that big dick jammed up her pussy," he groaned as he pumped his cock.

All I had to say was, "Why don't you see how it feels for yourself," and then I tackled him.

As I wrestled with him, groping at his ass, all he kept saying was, "I've never been with a guy before." But considering he was a muscular jock he wasn't really resisting too much.

Flash forward…

Billy kept his eye on the TV, watching the girl get fucked while he took my ten-point-five fat inches up his ass, arching his back, and moaning. He licked his lips like the bitch on the TV was doing, saying, "Fuck me, fuck me," repeatedly. He must've liked what he felt back there, because he reached around to my butt, trying to press more of my cock into him.

Like I said, I play hardball. I batted Billy-boy's balls around all night long, pounding my fist-big cock into his catcher's-mitt ass. To me, a roughhouse round of ass fucking and cock sucking is as satisfying as a sweaty game of football or basketball, and everybody wins.

Billy was sure grateful. By morning this kid had cum about a half-dozen times and was a new man. Now that Billy knew what he was made for, he'd have insatiable cock-lust. He'd have a lot closer relationships with all his jock buddies at the local gym. I left Billy inhaling my dirty shorts. He'll probably treasure this prize for the rest of his life.

During a stop in Texas I met Julio.  He and I had one hell of a cockfight one night at the Breeze-Rite Inn.

Julio was the usual macho Latino, always bragging about his prowess with women. He said he had a wife at home, but she couldn't dildo-fuck in the way that made him shoot his load.

Julio liked to wrestle. So we stripped down and had at it right there in Room 259 at the Breeze-Rite Inn. He oiled down his muscles over his tight, compact body. We mashed our meat together, rubbed our nuts, sparred for a bit. Nothing feels like another man's tenderized meat rubbing against your own, unless it's his asshole.

Julio was a feisty little rooster, but I could tell he wanted to submit, 'cause his ass was already full to the brim with sweaty lube.

Wrestling him just warmed it up. And it was my pleasure to dork my pork into Julio's preheated chute. His dick shot cum straight out all over the wall I had him spread eagle against while I pumped his ass.

When I finished, I tied the fucker to the bed and lassoed his dick to the bedpost with an itchy rope. I took the sign from the toilet and pasted it over his mouth: Sanitized for your protection. I twiddled his popcorn-shrimp dick just for laughs, and left him moaning.

During a stop in Kansas, I again headed to the local gym. I went into the locker room to get changed and check out the Kansas dick. One guy was in the corner of the locker room doing bending and stretching exercises, hoping I'd notice, praying I'd choose him. He was super-friendly, bare balls just bouncing away. Said his name was Chuck. He tried being casual about his exercises, but he made damned sure his tight tan-lined buns were always facing me, offering them up for my inspection. I knew he wanted something up there in that dime-sized pink hole of his even if he didn't. And I was the only cock in that burg who'd dare give him something to put in there.

Once I got Chuck back to the motel, I told him to strip. He unzipped, thinking he'd get a quickie blowjob from the traveling queer before waltzing back home to the little woman.

But no, I was going to change Chuck's life. I started talking to him insinuatingly, civilly, as if he were filling out an application. Making him sweat about what was next.

I sort of fore-played with him a little bit, mind-fucked him. "What do you like to do with your old lady? What do you do to her when you get her alone and naked in that bedroom in that VA-loan house with its two-car garage, three kids, and bad art on the walls? How do you fuck her? Do you make her get on all fours, upside-down, straddling the bed? C'mon, you can tell me."

I got him to babble all the juicy details. Chuck relished telling these macho stories. You know, man talk. Or so he thought.

Then I said, "Do you really think she gets off on a two-bit dick like that?"


I pushed him down onto the bed face down and held him there. His pants were down around his ankles, his dick puffy from all that sex talk. "Okay, pussy let's pretend you're her."

The unexpectedness of me throwing him face down on the bed with his bare ass exposed and vulnerable freaked him out, and he struggled a bit at first. All it took was me blowing my hot breath into his ass crack briefly, and you should've seen him scramble to show me his brand-new pussy after that! Most of these hotshot studs never even realize they have pussies before I dick them.

"Yeah, that's it, Chuck, show me your pussy. You got a sweet pussy, don't you? You want to feel a big cock fill your pussy don't you?"
Chuck didn't answer. I slapped his ass and repeated the question.

"Yes, put your dick in my pussy, please!"

I did, and Chuck winced and even asked me to stop at one point, telling me it hurt. I just kept going and in no time he was begging me to fuck him harder and fill his pussy with my cum.

Funny what's underneath all that machismo bullshit!

Like this guy, Ray, a construction worker I screw regularly every time I'm in St. Louis. He likes to scurry home to his wife as soon as I finish fucking him. He fantasizes what it would be like to watch me fucking his wife.

He tells me all about it while he's sitting on top of the one and only cock that has ever been up his ass. Then I throw him over, and start laying some pipe, my bitchdigger drilling for oil until Ray blows a gusher.

One time I made Ray take me to his house when his wife was away with the kids. I made him take me to his bedroom, then I told him to get under the covers and jerk off. Then I pretended to be his father catching him beating off. I slapped his hands and dick and called him a bad boy, and then stood him naked in the corner for awhile. Then I turned him over the footstool and spanked the daylights out of him, with him thanking me for every smack.

Ray was so grateful for the mind trip that afterward he scampered to the kitchen and cooked me up a piping hot lasagna dinner.

For dessert, I took Ray back to his bedroom, threw him down, and fucked his face just like he told me he did to his wife, spewed my goo right down his throat.

Then I made him put on his wife's negligee, some frou-frou Frederick's of Hollywood crap, and made him tell me all the positions he fucked his wife in that bed, with his pathetic little dick. I fucked him in every position he fucked his wife, the see-through fabric draped all over his hard-muscled body, exciting his two stiff nipples. I told him next time we met I wanted to see his wife's lipstick smeared all around his ass lips. Then I spread his ass cheeks and cocked his hole some more.

For a finale, I yanked out and shot my load all over his wife's negligee.

I told the dick-dizzy fucker to open his mouth. He opened automatically, expecting more of my cock. But I stuffed his mouth with his wife's filthy nightie instead, and said, "Now suck my cum out of it!"

He wolfed it down.

"Better suck it out good," I said while I wiped off my cock. "You don't want your old lady to know what a sloppy cocksucker you are."

I figure I'm responsible for keeping more marriages from breaking up than any high-priced therapist. My philosophy is: it does a straight guy good to have a fat dick stuck up his ass at least once in his life. It opens him up, makes him more... receptive. It changes his "hole" perspective!

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