At the Gate

Wilbur waited at the gate for his flight back to Albuquerque. He dreaded the long, boring pep talks at Limon headquarters. Every three months, Limon Corporation required the sales staff to fly to Topeka and endure the long-winded talks from the CEO. Wilbur was sales support, a technical role that had absolutely no business listening to the incessant bullshit they were shoveling. The only thing about these trips that he enjoyed was the time away from the wife and kids.

When Wilbur was younger, his classmates bullied him. It was deep cruelty because Wilbur had the shortest, thinnest penis in gym class. They called him “Clitty Boy” and “Pinky.” When Juan, his supposed best friend, joined in, it was almost too much to bear.

Juan took Wilbur aside. “Listen, man, I know this hurts, but you got to hear it. With a dick like that, no woman is gonna want you.”

It was easy for Juan to say. He had a dick hanging halfway to his knees. All the women were going to want him. But surprisingly, things turned out different. As they got older, Juan grew less interested in women. Wilbur, on the other hand, had benefitted from his reputation. It turns out, a lot of women prefer their men on the small side. And even though it was short, it could shoot like a rocket. Wilbur got his high school sweetheart pregnant at the Senior Prom. They were married, and had three more kids after that.

What Wilbur never told her was that his friendship with Juan was more than platonic. Juan taught Wilbur how to make his ass into a pussy. Every time they got together, they had a few beers, then Juan would cram his dick in. At first it hurt so bad that Wilbur cried. But practice makes perfect. So long as they hung out every weekend, it got easier. Soon, Juan was able to slip inside Wilbur like he was fucking a cow. It was their secret.

The problem with these trips away was that Wilbur missed being with Juan. His ass tightened back up, and it was painful the next time they fucked. Then Wilbur discovered the Turkish Baths in Topeka. His little pee-pee attracted the big guys like flies to shit. In Kansas, those corn fed boys were hung huge. Many were bigger than Juan. They fucked like horny dogs. On more than one occasion, Wilbur left the baths with a breeze blowing up his gaping hole.

This weekend had been a bust. It was Harvest Festival, and all the men went to the fairgrounds with their wives and kids, not to the Turkish Baths. The place was barren; Wilbur didn’t get fucked like he needed. He could feel his trap door closing and tightening. He didn’t know what to do.

Then his prayers were answered. A big corn fed dope in a black cowboy hat plopped down across from him, legs spread wide. A huge grin covered his face. Wilbur glanced down out of habit and gasped aloud.

“Yep, it’s all me.” The Kansan hunk put his hand on the mid-shaft and rubbed it gently. Wilbur felt his tiny penis harden. The man’s cock showed completely in his Wranglers. It bulged across his upper thigh. The head wrapped around so it almost touched his ass. It was at least as big as Juan, but it was getting bigger.

“Man, I think I need some help. Can you help me?” It was a simple but effective line. Wilbur nodded and followed the man into the terminal men’s room. It was busy, but it took no time for the two to get into a large stall together unnoticed.

Wilbur loved huge cocks. Juan’s colossal cock showed him pleasure his wife could never give. The small ones weren’t enough. Wilbur loved how his small penis lured men who were bigger than average. This time, he landed a whale.

The Kansas hunk struggled to get his skin-tight jeans past his massive cock and ass. When he finally got free, the tree trunk of flesh swung skyward. The Kansan grabbed Wilbur by the ears and forced his cock into his mouth, barely. The head was too big, and the corona couldn’t get past Wilbur’s teeth.

“I thought you faggots were good at giving head.”

“I’m not a…” Wilbur realized it was pointless to deny that he liked men. But he didn’t identify as gay. He was a married man who found pleasure being with men.

“Not a what?”

“I’m not into oral. Are you into fucking?”

The Kansan grinned again. “Hell yeah. My wife don’t let me do nothing to her. I gotta jack off and squirt inside her, and she squeals like a stuck pig even then. You would let me fuck you?” He held out his cock, which was several inches longer and much thicker than anything Wilbur had tried before.

Wilbur dropped his pants and put his hands on the toilet seat. “Fuck my ass.”

A few loogies and a lot of spit later, the Kansas man was slippery enough to push his way in. It felt like the first time with Juan. Wilbur cried from the combination of pain, pleasure and nostalgia. This man might ruin him. As the head popped past the inner sphincter, Wilbur cried out.

“I can stop. I’m hurting you.”

Wilbur reached back until he felt the man’s thigh. He pulled him closer. Inside, he could feel the cock stretching him like a water balloon. It hit the end, and there was still more to go. Then the Kansan did something new. He lifted Wilbur’s right hip and kept going. The head popped past a hole then Wilbur never knew existed. He nearly fainted. It was terribly painful for about three seconds.

The pain was replaced with a tingling sensation that grew and grew. It was like an orgasm, but it came from his butt. Wilbur’s little dick dripped juice on the floor. The muscular stranger rested his hips against Wilbur’s ass, filling him as far as he could go.

“You ready for this?”

Wilbur nodded vigorously.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

Wilbur said, “Just fuck me, man.”

And the Kansan obliged. His thrusts were short and gentle at first. After a minute, he picked up the pace and lengthened his strokes. Each out stroke pulled the head out of that deep hole, and each in stroke pushed it in with a loud pop. It sounded like someone was spanking their kid. The bathroom was so busy and noisy, nobody noticed.

Wilbur felt dizzy. Each time that head popped in and out of the inner hole, he felt spasms of pleasure wracking his body. The fat cock got fatter. Now a steady stream of clear drool dripped from the end of Wilbur’s dick.

“You come like a woman, don’t you?” It wasn’t an insult, just an observation.

Wilbur grunted. They continued to bump and grind with abandon. The Kansan never stopped accelerating. Soon his cock was a blur as it thrust back and forth into Wilbur’s wrecked asshole. Then Wilbur felt something completely new. The tingling that started when the Kansan poked that hole was building, and it reached a tipping point. Suddenly, Wilbur’s entire body was throbbing. The muscles in his gut were contracting in rapid waves, massaging the fat cock inside them.

“What the fuck is that? Goddamn boy, you’re gonna get me off.” The Kansan threw his head back and hollered like a cowboy. “Fuck! God damn!”

He fired shot after shot of cum inside Wilbur. Each time he came, his cock swelled, pressing against the walls. Without touching himself, Wilbur blew his load in big clumps on the floor.

“Damn boy. You ain’t got much of a gun, but you got plenty of ammo.”

They cleaned up with toilet paper and ass gaskets, flushing the evidence of their crime. Wilbur wasn’t going to hear his farts for a month. The muscle bound Kansan grabbed Wilbur by the shoulders and tried to kiss him.

Wilbur had never kissed a man before. He started to back away, but the man was too quick. He put his tongue down his throat. Wilbur liked it. He felt safe with this man.

Back at their seats in the terminal, the cowboy leaned forward. “Name’s Kirk. What takes you to Albuquerque?”

“Heading home.”

“Me too.” He leaned forward and gave Wilbur his business card. He sold livestock supplies. “I’d sure like your repeat business.”

At the Lucky Market – An erotic story

…the way he squeezed the banana was more than suggestive…

On summer break from college back East, I came to stay with my Grandmother in Fresno, CA. Fresno is the largest city between Los Angeles and San Francisco. It sits in the middle of the Central Valley, where it bakes like the raisins and prunes it is famous for producing. Fresno was trying to be a big city, but it was a farming town at heart, so all the trappings of a proper city were there, but there was no one to use them. The Rumpus Room, the one gay bar in town, seldom had more than twenty lonely men who all knew each other. It wasn’t officially gay, but all the clientele were bisexual or gay men. Women didn’t go there.

Grandma drove a massive Town & Country station wagon. At night, she let me use it to “go do your college stuff” which was her way of saying “cruise for chicks”. I cruised for dicks. Having a rather small penis myself, I fantasized about playing with a big one. My boyfriend in college was average; we broke up in the Spring. I was too afraid of seeing someone I might know at the Rumpus Room, so I just drove endless streets in the swollen suburb to no avail. Who was going to get it on with a guy in a station wagon? I knew about parks and rest areas, but I preferred to know my date before we fucked.

That was why I was so surprised when a trip to the grocery store turned into the raunchiest, sexiest encounter of my life.

It was July. The vinyl on Grandma’s seat was so hot, it would give second degree burns, so I sat on a terry cloth towel. It was still so hot my legs turned red, but my skin stayed attached to my body, so it was an improvement over the alternative. Fresno’s didn’t have fancy grocery stores like Zabar’s. The closest they had was the Lucky Supermarket. It was a chain from somewhere east of California, but it specialized in local meat and produce, which was the best thing about Fresno. Farmers and cowboys were scary, but they made some damn good food.

On this fateful day, Grandma shopped on the butcher aisle and sent me with a short list to get fruits and vegetables for the week. It was near the melons I saw him: a cowboy with thick legs, a round butt (complete with Copenhagen snuff in the back pocket), and shoulders nearly twice as wide as his waist. From behind, he looked well-built. He picked up a cantaloupe and thumped it before putting it in his shopping cart. He froze. Turning his head, he caught me staring at him. His face was framed by a square jaw, big ears and a ten gallon hat with jet black hair poking out from under the brim.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

I blushed and hurried down to the onions and potatoes. The last thing I needed was for another cowboy to beat the shit out of me. I’d had enough of that in high school. I cursed when I realized I had forgotten tomatoes, avocados and bananas; the cowboy was right there in the aisle where all three met. He was inspecting the fruit. Again he turned his head in my direction, but this time he winked. He grabbed an avocado and gave it a gentle squeeze before putting it in his hand basket. He pressed a finger on a tomato. The skin gave but didn’t stay depressed. He put the ripe beefsteak tomato in the basket. Then he picked up a bunch of bananas. He held them close to his generous nose and inhaled deeply. To my horror, he gave the biggest banana a squeeze test.

“You’re not supposed to squeeze bananas, you’ll bruise them.”

The cowboy turned to face me. “I know.” I was mesmerized by his dark green eyes. The way he squeezed the banana was more than suggestive. He lowered it to crotch level, where something much larger than any banana was stuffed down his Wranglers. He used the banana to outline the enormity of his endowment.

“You like what you see?” He flexed it make it stand out even further. “You got me hard, son, and you’re going to help me with it. I can’t walk around like this.”

“Wh-what did you want me to do?”

He tilted his head towards a nearby door to the stockroom. “You walk right in front of me, nice and easy.” I covered him from the front, and the hand basket covered him from the side. I had no idea what was about to happen to me. There was more than a 50 percent chance I was in for a serious fag bashing. I was wrong.

The employee restroom was a private stinky toilet with a filthy wash basin. The cowboy hustled me in there and locked the door behind us. He raised his hand, causing me to flinch involuntarily.

The big bear of a man chuckled. “I ain’t gonna hit you, but I may hurt you. I think you’ll like it.” He unbuckled his belt unzipped, and let his Wranglers drop. They didn’t go far, just enough to reveal the root of his massive cock, which was big around as a Coke can. Now, I get turned on by huge cocks, but I had never been fucked by one that summer.

“Pull them down, son.” I dropped to my knees and freed the rest of his cock, which hit me with a strong uppercut to the jaw.

“Holy fucking shit!”

He frowned. “Watch your mouth.”

I lowered my gaze. “Yes, Sir.”

Calling the cowboy “Sir” made me feel something new and different. I submitted to his superior masculinity. I was his bitch, and I liked it. So did he. He grabbed the ten inch log of cock and slapped me with it hard before shoving the tip in my mouth.

“Open up.”

I didn’t think it was possible to take more but he held my lower jaw and stretched it. The head slipped past my teeth and pressed on my tonsils. I gagged, but he held it there, letting me gag and spit up over and over until the reflex stopped.

“Good boy.” In one swift motion, he forced his fat cock down my throat. My airway was blocked. He held it there for a while, until I saw stars. Just when I was sure I would suffocate, he pulled back just enough to give me a quick gasp of air, and then he was back in my throat, fucking my face. His big meaty hands held my ears to keep me from pulling away. I was his bitch and I had to take it the way he wanted.

I glanced at the bathroom mirror. The sight of his huge cock going in and out of my mouth gave me an instant boner. Not that he could tell. Like I said, I’m small. Just when I was getting used to his cock in my throat, he pulled me to my feet by my ears.

“It’s good an wet now. Take ‘em off.”

I obediently removed my jeans. He ripped a hole in my underwear. He had no interest in seeing my tiny cock. I stroked it through my underwear between my thumb and forefinger until he slapped my hand.

“You’ll come when I say you can come.”

“Yes, sir.” The words were barely audible after the brutal pounding my throat had taken.

I swooned when I felt his tongue circling my hole. He spit on the hole and used his fat finger to work it in. His finger felt bigger than my ex-boyfriend’s dick! He worked it in, then another, eventually he had three fat fingers inside me.

“Unh!” The pain in my anus was canceled by the pleasure in my prostate. A wet spot appeared on my briefs where the pre-cum was leaking out.

My cowboy pinched my nipples with his free hand. This made the juice dribble out faster. Suddenly, the fingers were gone.

He said, “This is gonna hurt, sorry.” He wasn’t lying. He had to clamp his huge hand down over my mouth to keep me from screaming. He pushed his cock partway into my ass, so that the thickest part of the head was in my anus, stretching both sphincters further than I ever thought possible. The pain caused my vision to go bright white, then I passed out.

When I came to, he was fucking me hard and deep. Whatever pain had been there before had quieted down. This new pain was much more tolerable. I felt him slipping around a corner in my gut I never knew existed. Each time that he turned the corner, a raw wave of pleasure sent shockwaves through my body.

“You daddy’s little pussy? Daddy’s little pussy boy, huh? You like it when I fuck your little pussy?”

“Yes, sir.” I couldn’t deny it. I love being his hole to use.

Apparently he had been holding back. Our last interchange put him in high gear. He pulled to the point that his head stretched my sphincter to its limit, then plunged in past the junction and deep into my colon. He did it over and over again until my legs started to give way. He just picked me up and turned me to face him. He pushed me against the wall and fucked even harder. He smashed his mustache into my clean shaven lips and buried his tongue in my mouth. He looked down, saw the big wet stain on my shorts, and smiled.

“Did I make your little clit all wet?”

I nodded my head. That was probably what put him over the edge. His violent thrusts were stretching me in ways I never thought possible. I could see the huge head press a large lump into my belly. I put my hands over the spot and squeezed each time his head popped up.

“Oh yeah!” The cowboy threw his head back so hard his hat fell off, revealing a bushy head of black hair that made his green eyes smolder. As he drew closer to climax, I cupped his bull balls, feeling them churn as they prepared to empty inside me.

“Take it, boy!” His cock thrashed inside me as it emptied warm, slippery cum into my belly. He held still, his crotch pressed hard against my buttocks, as deep as he could go. He kissed me passionately as more and more sperm emptied inside me.

“You can come now, son.”

“I already did.” It was true. My teeny weeny peeny had synced up with his giant bull cock. I didn’t care. It felt so good being filled with his cum, I hadn’t even noticed my own orgasm. His was far more important in every way.

He lifted me off his cock, which had softened enough to get me off it. It smacked his lower thigh and spattered the dregs of his cum on the dirty bathroom floor.

“Good boy.” He stuffed his cock back in his jeans and carefully zipped them. I thought how easy it must be for his dick to get caught in the zipper!

He said, “I want to see my cum leave your ass. Stand over the toilet.”

I did as I was told. He took a finger and easily entered my loose hole, opening the inner sphincter to allow the white man juice to pass. I was shocked by how much came out. As soon as I thought I was done, another spoonful would come flying out. The toilet water was white, with great ropes of the stuff floating about in eddies.

“That’s it, boy. Let it all go.” He stroked my cheek with his hand, but didn’t kiss me. He walked out of the toilet and slammed the door behind him. I had found the best fuck of my life, and he was walking out on me!

My underwear was torn in back, and sopping wet in front. I took me a minute to get them off and toss them in the waste bin. I wanted to cry. But then my eye landed on something unexpected: a banana. On the banana was written “Cody. 777-8714”. The rest of the summer, I “did my college stuff” in Cody’s barn, where he showed me every variety of pleasure two men can have together.

To this day, I can’t shop Lucky’s without getting hard.