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Authors: Austin Foxxe

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Manhandled (34 page)

BOOK: Manhandled
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I was particularly attracted to the guy who seemed to be the foreman. Like the others, he was dressed in a T-shirt, jeans,
and work boots when they arrived, but he acted more mature than his coworkers. He was tall, about 6-2, with brown hair that
was cut very short. I like facial hair, so it didn’t hurt that he had a perfectly trimmed goatee that accentuated his features
handsomely. Furthermore, his eyes danced when he smiled, which was often. In short, the guy turned me on.

The guys were there all week, working on the lawn and, by default, getting
me
all worked up. Every day at one-thirty, when it was time for my lunch break, I would take the long way down to my car, going
out the front of the building and walking all the way around the side just so I could walk by them and ogle those beautiful
examples of manhood. And each time I did, one or two of them would look my way and they’d kind of snicker to each other before
turning back to their work. Sometimes my coworker Tonya would come along to check them out as well, grabbing my arm as she
drooled over their primal masculinity.

That Friday, I took a quick lunch alone in the cafeteria, because the call volume was so heavy. As I made my way to a table
to eat, I saw the four workers sharing another table close by. I tried not to stare at them, but I’m sure that I caught them
looking over my way a few times. Eventually, three of the guys finished their lunches and got up from their table, leaving
the foreman behind. I couldn’t help but watch as they passed by my table. I could smell the musky scent of their rich, masculine
sweat, which sent me close to the edge of arousal. When I turned to see what the other guy was up to, I was quite embarrassed
to find him looking right at me. I’d been caught staring at his hot buddies! I turned back to my food and didn’t look back
at him once.

I returned to the phones, but I couldn’t get those shirtless men out of my mind. After lunch I kept looking out the window
as they continued to sweat under the sun. Whenever women walked by, the guys would turn and look. I couldn’t help wishing
I had breasts and a perky butt.

By the time my mid-afternoon break came I really needed to take a piss. I raced for the bathroom and breathed a heavy sigh
as I relieved myself at the urinal.

At that moment the door opened. I turned, and damned if Mr. Foreman himself wasn’t walking into the bathroom. He was using
his faded blue T-shirt to wipe the sweat from his chest and armpits. He looked up and saw me staring at him. I turned quickly
back to the urinal, my heart beating a mile a minute. What if he said something about me checking him out all week? There
was nothing to say that he wouldn’t beat me up for. I was trying to figure out how to stuff my suddenly stiff cock back in
my pants without being too obvious when I heard a husky voice behind me.

“You like working here?”

I turned my head. He was leaning against the sink, arms folded across his naked chest, his sweat-soaked shirt slung casually
over one shoulder.

“Uh,” I stuttered, “I work in customer service. I don’t really like it, but it’s OK.”

“Must be boring.” His eyes fixed on me with a level stare. “So…my buddies tell me you’ve been watching us.”

He moved toward me.
Shit, here it comes.
How could I explain a black eye to my coworkers when all I’d done was go to the rest room?

“Uh—I was probably just looking because my girlfriend kept gawking at you,” I lied.

“You mean that girl who was walkin’ with you the other day?” he said, then paused to consider. “She’s pretty hot. The fellas
like her.”

“Yeah, well…”

“You’re taking an awfully long time to piss there, buddy.”

I couldn’t think of an answer to that one. Then, he stepped right up behind me; his breath was hot on my neck.

“I bet she gives good head,” he said, close to a whisper.

My face was flaming red, I was sweating, and my heart was racing. I couldn’t take much more of this. What did this guy want
from me?

I gulped and said, “Well, that’s kind of personal, don’t you think?”

“Shit,” he said, “don’t matter anyway.” There was a pause. My pulse thudded in my ears. Then: “I bet
you
give good head too.”

I gulped. I wanted to get the hell out of there, but something forced me to stay put. I had managed to get my erection back
inside my pants, but it now stood at full attention. I turned around. He had a broad grin on his face. It was obvious that
he noticed my…er, uh, physical state.

“Why do you say that?” I asked, with more toughness than I necessarily felt.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, licking his lips and scratching his chest. “You just look like the type.”

I had never expected this, least of all from this butch number standing before me. I drew in a quick breath.

“What do you say? I’ve been watching you all week, and it looks like you could use a break from work.”

“What—what did you have in mind?” I stuttered, my legs shaking.

“Whatever,” he said, his gaze falling to my crotch again. “Looks like you wouldn’t mind at all.”

His hand reached for me. An electric current jolted through my body when I felt his rough workman’s fingers through my khakis.
His thumb massaged the underside of my shaft, behind the head. I felt a drop of precum staining the front of my briefs.

“I got an idea,” he said, looking past me to the rear of the bathroom. “How ’bout we go in that stall back there and you show
me just how good you are at giving head? Do a good job and I may even fuck your ass. Think you could handle that?”

“Um, well …” I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

“Yeah, I think you’ll be able to handle that,” he whispered menacingly. “Now get your ass in there.”

I tried to protest, but he pushed me into the stall and shut the door behind us. The seconds seemed to go by so slowly as
I stood there, the anticipation of what was to come making my stomach turn somersaults. After what seemed like an eternity,
he moved close to me, grabbed my hand, and placed it on his crotch. “All right, get to work,” he said.

I was nervous, but I could see that there was no sense arguing with him. Sensing my hesitation, he raised one of his arms,
grabbed the back of my neck with his other hand, and shoved my nose into his moist armpit, forcing me to take a deep whiff.
You’d have thought that he would have stunk after being out in the sun all day long, but he smelled of sweat—the good clean
sweat of a man who’s been working hard.

“Yeah,” he growled in my ear. “Eat those sweaty pits, boy. You like that, huh? Do you, boy?”

“Mmmmmmph” was all I could say.

From his pits I kissed my way down his bare chest, paying attention to his rock-hard nipples, licking the salty-sweet droplets
of man-sweat from his body. He moaned loudly as I clenched his nipples between my teeth, flicking my tongue back and forth
over the tips as I gently bit down on them. I was afraid someone would hear us, but I didn’t stop.

Soon he was pushing on my head, and I knew what he wanted. I unbuttoned the top button of his jeans and slid my hand into
his hot and sweaty crotch. I wrapped my fingers around the hardness inside the pouch of his damp jockstrap.

I parted his jeans so I could see the outline of his cock- head appear through the pouch of the jock. He looked so damn fine
in that thing I almost busted my nut right then.

“Eat my dick through my jock,” he ordered. And I did, nibbling on his increasingly hard dick through the slightly yellowed
and sweat-dampened material.

“You’re gonna love having that in your throat,” he told me. I slowly began peeling his jock down over his cock, tasting each
bit of his flesh as I did so, moving my tongue all over his shaft, pressing against it with my mouth. Finally, I yanked the
jock down to his knees with his jeans and slid my mouth over the head of his salty-tasting pecker.

Again he moaned. That was all I needed. I swallowed his cock in one swift motion, relaxing my throat and taking it deep.

“Fuuuuuuck,” he cried.

I groaned, loving his reaction. I sucked him long and slow, taking his cock as deep as I could each time. The sweat of his
workday and the natural scent of his body were really turning me on. Every time my nose nestled into his pubes, my cock gave
a little leap inside my pants. I spit on my hand, wrapped it around his hot cock, and then began to tongue his sac. I sucked
his balls into my mouth, rolling them around on my tongue.

Suddenly, he grabbed my head from above and held it firmly in place, tilting it upward just slightly so that I was looking
directly into his eyes.

“Open your mouth,” he said, then leaned down and spit into it. He tilted my head back, then held it tight as he pushed his
cock into my mouth again and proceeded to face-fuck me like I’d never been face-fucked before. He grabbed the back of my head
and forced me to take his cock deep into my throat, my gag reflex kicking in as his dick assaulted my tonsils.

“Fuck yeah,” he purred from above. “Gag on it, bitch.”

Then he turned around and bent over, revealing a perfectly puckered asshole. I didn’t even wait for him to tell me what to
do. I knew what he wanted. I went in for the kill, pressing the tip of my tongue to his anus.

“Yeah,” he barked. “Tongue my sweaty butthole. Eat it.”

I parted his cheeks, darting my tongue in and out of his anus, pressing my lips up against it and rubbing them back and forth.
I tongue-fucked his salty-tasting hole hungrily, spurred on by the way he was writhing above me. He grabbed his cheeks and
spread them even farther with one hand, while the other clamped onto the back of my head and forced my face deeper into his
crack.

“Munch that fuckin’ hole, pig!” he commanded. “You love it, don’t you? Yeah, you do. My hot little butt-muncher.”

Suddenly he spun around, took hold of my arm, pulled me roughly up to his face, and said, “My turn.”

He began to undo my belt with his big hands. After he’d unzipped me, he pushed my Calvins down past my balls. Then, with brute
force, he turned me around to face away from him. He parted my cheeks and spit into them, then began lapping at my hole the
way I had his. I bent over, resting my hands on my knees as he feverishly devoured my hole.

“Look at that,” he cooed from behind me. “That hot, tight little hole.” He spit into it again, then began to slide his fingers
back and forth along the entrance. “It’s so perfect. Damn.”

He munched on it just a little longer before I suddenly felt his mouth on the back of my neck, his arm circling around my
chest. He gripped me tightly from behind, then clamped his teeth down on my earlobe.

“I want to fuck you,” he whispered. “I want to be inside your tight hole.”

By this point, I had completely forgotten about my break coming to an end. I just hoped no one came into the bathroom.

“Get ready, boy,” he growled in my ear. I could still hear a trace of the menace he’d revealed before.

I bent over farther and put my hands against the wall behind the toilet, pushing my exposed ass back toward him as he slid
a finger inside me. It hurt at first, as there was no lube in sight and I hadn’t been prepared for it. I felt his cock sliding
back and forth against my ass cheek as he roughly fingered my hole, sliding a second finger into me as he continued to ooh
and aaah.

“Such a tight ass,” he said, just as I felt the tip of his cock pushing at the opening of my hole. I heard him spit behind
me, then felt his cock roughly sliding inside my hole. I gasped at the invasion, biting down on my bottom lip as he forcefully
took me as his own.

“Fuck yeah,” he groaned, pumping his cock in and out of my chute. “Love that tight ass. That tight ass just for me. All for
me.”

The rawness of his words seeped into my consciousness, bringing out the primal animal lust that had been hidden for so long.
My senses were tingling like crazy. Everything was amplified. I was riding the wave of a high such as I’d never been on before,
and I never wanted it to stop.

“Poke my hole,” I said, a whisper that soon grew into a full-fledged cry. “Poke that fuckin’ hole, stud. Rip me apart.”

“Yeah, take that cock, boy. Take my fuckin’ cock up your tight hole!”

He slammed into me, his balls slapping against mine as he continued to dominate me. The air smelled of pungent sweat and raw
sex. The scent of it filled my head and made me even dizzier than before. I gripped my cock and tugged on it as his cock continued
to slide in and out of my chute.

Suddenly, he pulled out of my ass. He lifted my shirt, pushing it up my back, then cried out. “Yeah!” he said, that single
syllable followed by the sudden warm splash of his cum landing on my back, followed by another, and another, the last few
spurts falling on my ass in thick jets of man-juice.

“That’s it,” I cried. “I’m coming!”

“Yeah,” he said. “Lemme see that load I just fucked out of you.” He grabbed me roughly and pulled me to a standing position,
just in time to see the first blast of cum from my nuts. He grabbed my dick and jerked me off as my load spewed forth in thick
spurts and landed on the rim of the toilet. Jet after jet of hot jizz painted the porcelain bowl as he moaned his approval.

“Yeah! What a load!”

Then, suddenly, it was over. I stood there panting as he shook my cum off his fingers and the head of my cock.

“Holy fuck,” I said. “That was hot as hell.”

I wished we could go another round, but I knew I had to get back to work. As it was, I was going to have quite a time trying
to explain why I had taken so long for a ten-minute break, not to mention the fact that I was all scruffed up. Then I realized
that he was going to have some explaining to do too.

“So,” I said, “what are you going to tell your buddies about catching me looking at you?”

Wiping himself with his sweaty and now cum-stained T-shirt, he turned me around to face him.

“I’m just going to tell them that I took care of it,” he said. “Yeah, I’m going to tell them that I gave it to you real good.”

And the truth was, he had done just that.

BOOK: Manhandled
9.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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