Featured Blogger week in review from Last Wednesday’s Featured Blogger: AusGuy92 / Aussie Gay Guy 2
Wanna be a Featured Blogger? I am, as always, lookin’ for ‘em. There’s a FAQ HERE that will tell you everything about how to become one. Or, just ask, message me via Tumblr, or email me at CorbeauXtube@Gmail.com.(viaTumbleOn)
Short but sweet - raw, hairy fuck vid over on Xtube.
Love how the bottom guy rides that fat raw cock. }:oP
Fuck guys, you’ve bred him so much that he can’t take anymore cum in his boycunt. Let’s make him shit it in a glass and drink it, so that we can breed him again.
Joder tios, le habéis lefado tanto que ya no le cabe más leche en el culito. Vamos a hacer que lo eche en un vaso y se lo trague, como una cerda. Y luego, le preñamos otra vez.
Warning: This story contains extreme, hardcore and mature content, with racial language, nonconsensual situations and violent sexual imagery.
The dingy SuperNine hotel was located in downtown Bumcraw, Texas, a hot, dry bump in the road in western Marion County, the kind of place where there are more tattoo parlors than schools, and the bars are filled with the kind of men who combine the personal aesthetic of a Hollywood hillbilly with the style, swagger and mindset of a Hollywood thug. They were hot, dry men for that hot and dry town, which was wet with boozy sweat and cold floozies shimmying down the main drag in high heels and colorful lingerie. The air was acrid with cigarette smoke, the taste of burnt tar simmering in Mitchum’s lungs.
The hotel room was little respite from the dirty dinginess of the town, and it even smelled like whoring rednecks, Mitchum thought, probably from the sweaty black man who sat on one queen-sized bed’s stained comforter, flipping through the channels on the TV with a cigarette angled out of his lips. The sweaty black man was named Rico, and he smelled… well, he smelled like a very sweaty black man, like fetid coconut oil left out in the sun too long. He had taken off his pants, Mitchum was alarmed to notice as he returned to the hotel room, and now wore nothing but a pair of basketball shorts.
Mitchum was not worried about Rico physically. He knew the man was unarmed — and now that he had taken off most of his clothes, he couldn’t be hiding any weapons. Rico was incredibly toned, every muscle outlined and flexing as though it didn’t fit within his skin. Mitchum was bigger. At more than six and a half feet tall, he towered over Rico, who was barely five feet. Mitchum was strong, and given his size, probably stronger than Rico, but Mitchum was not as toned, and his belly was not flat, his abs not defined. However, he had been a high school wrestling and baseball champion just a few years ago, and had never let down on his workout regime, so he maintained a powerful physique.
“Sup, nigga,” Rico said without looking up from the TV.
“They ain’t got no empty rooms with two beds,” Mitchum said. He had a thick Texan accent, his drawl beaming, with a macho lilt and a guttural flourish. He wore only a wifebeater and jeans, with his standard baseball hat, a tattered old blue and white one that he had worn every day for years.
“Whatever, we ain’t gotta worry about it,” Rico said, settling on a hip hop video flickering on the screen. “We can’t get no bitches tonight, so it don’t matter how many beds we got.”
“Montez should be here before morning, so we can’t leave to find chicks anyway. Once the deal is done tonight, I’m outta here,” Mitchum said.
“Nigga, he ain’t never come the night he say he will. He coming tomorrow, not tonight. If we lucky, he be here tomorrow during the day, more likely tomorrow night,” Rico said. Something about the black accent annoyed Mitchum, and Rico spoke like such an inner-city thug it wore on Mitchum’s nerves. The words tumbled out of Rico’s mouth like water through a silken gutter, singsong and mellifluous yet crude and grating, with a rhythm that danced on the edge of Mitchum’s eardrum.
“Well…” Mitchum said, not sure what to say.
“What? You scared to share yo’ bed with a man? Or with a nigger?” Rico asked, looking at Mitchum with those crude dark eyes for the first time since Mitchum had returned to the room.
“No, no, nothing like that. I ain’t racist,” Mitchum said.
“You should be.”
“Because there gonna be a race war one day. I ain’t sayin’ I want it, mind you, I just know it be coming along like a fart you can’t hold in no longer. Us niggas already got a certain bond, y’know. We got the Crips and the Bloods and all that, but when the shit goes down, we all gonna have each other’s back. Honkies be calling for peace and tolerance and cultural diversity while we take over,” Rico said, “I’m gonna roll a blunt.” He went to the pocket of his jeans, which he had tossed on the floor at the foot of the bed, and took out a bag of high quality weed and a box of blunts. He broke the plastic on a blunt and began to empty it.
“Black people kill black people now more than white people kill white people,” Mitchum said, “So I don’t think you’re right, my man. White people be more together than black people. I ain’t sayin’ I want a race war neither. But if it happens…”
“I don’t see that, nigga.”
“Why do you call me that?”
“What? ‘Nigga’? I dunno, just habit I guess,” Rico said, “I know you ain’t a nigga. It’s just what I say.”
“Can I call you a nigga?”
“Yeah, fine,” Rico said, then,”No, wait, no, don’t. I mean, yeah, whatever, I don’t care. If I thought I could get away with beating you up and taking your shit, I would have already done it. So it don’t matter if you call me ‘nigga’ or not, I ain’t gonna do nothing about it if you do.”
“Do we gotta watch this shit?” Mitchum asked, pointing to the TV, where sexy black chicks danced on a glitzy stripper pole, singing behind a tattooed rapper.
“What? You ain’t like hip hop?”
“You want me to put on that country music channel? That what you listen to, my nigga?” Rico said, “I mean my honky.”
“No, I mean yes. I listen to country, but no don’t put that channel on. I ain’t listen to the shitty kind of country they play,” Mitchum said, “Ain’t even really country, y’know. It’s just teenyboppers wearing cowboy hats and singing about tractors.”
“I hear ya. Half the shit they play on rap stations be just some fool-ass faggot nigga half-singing some autotuned garbage, ain’t even thugs, just some nigga with a baseball hat turned backwards,” Rico said, “That shit’s embarrassing for the race, my nigga.”
Mitchum got up and looked out the window, hoping that Montez might still show up. He realized that Rico was right — Montez was driving six hours away to pick up the weed, so the earliest he might be back would be about two in the morning, and he wouldn’t want to risk driving that late, no doubt having had a few whiskeys by then. It would be too easy for him to be pulled over and searched, and he could easily just stay at his own place for the night, meaning Mitchum needed to stay in this pitiful little dustbowl of a town until tomorrow.
“Y’all got Klan out here?” Rico asked, “That shit for real?”
“Yeah there’s some of that,” Mitchum said.
“You ever fuck with that?”
“No way, I know some people who do though,” Mitchum said, “My uncle is a full-fledged member.”
“Shit, that’s something else,” Rico said.
“Why? You just said you willing to kill white people. The Klan just wanna send you back to Africa,” Mitchum said.
“I said we could if we had to, and I would kill crackers by the motherfucking score. I ain’t want no race war. I just wanna smoke this blunt,” Rico said, laughing. “Gimme yo’ lighter.”
Mitchum tossed it to him and said, “You know, black guys ain’t never have a lighter. Why do you smoke weed all the fucking time but never got a lighter?”
“I do got a lighter, but why should I use it when I got some whiteboy here letting me use his?” Rico said, puffing on the blunt, and the sweet smell of cigar tobacco mixed with the herbaceously floral weed scent, filling the hotel room. Great clouds of smoke puffed out of Rico’s mouth.
Rico passed the blunt to Mitchum, who took a deep puff. Rico said, “I can bring a whore back here and fuck her in like ten minutes.”
“No way,” Mitchum said, his voice constricted as his lungs were full of smoke, “Ain’t lettin’ no whores in here with all this cash. Plus if Montez comes back early for some reason and finds a common whore in the same room as his money, he will literally kill me. No, scratch that, he gonna cut off my balls, take all my clothes and drop me in the middle of the desert to get pecked to death by vultures.”
“Yeah, so no whores.”
“Fine, no whores,” Rico said taking the blunt from Mitchum.
Mitchum coughed and saw Rico’s pubic hair sticking out the top of his basketball shorts. He groaned and said, “Nigga pull up your shorts.”
“What?” Rico said, looking down at himself.
“I can see yo’ fucking pubes, man, pull that shit up,” Mitchum said, blocking his eyes with his arm.
“How old are you, Mitchum? You fucking freaking out at the sight of some pubes? Shit, ain’t you ever gangbang?”
“I’m not a fucking pervert.”
“Honkies be fucking prudes.”
“I’m not a prude. Can you cover that shit up?”
“You are a grown-ass man, I ain’t gotta cover jack-shit up. We have known each other for four motherfucking years, Mitchum. I’m passing you this blunt but you can’t see it cuz you ain’t looking,” Rico said.
Mitchum opened his eyes. Rico was totally naked, his thick, veiny cock waving between his legs. He had a broad stupid smile on his sweaty face, and he held the blunt out for Mitchum to take.
“Holy shit, put some fucking clothes on, nigga,” Mitchum said, peeking out just long enough to take the blunt.
“No. I ain’t putting nothing on until you quit being such a pansy about it. Are all white people like this?”
“Do all black people just whip it out whenever?”
“Yes!” Rico said, “It’s just a body part. I know you got one. You know I got one. Chill the fuck out about it. Ain’t you hot? It’s like a Puerto Rican pussybake in here.”
“Fine, I ain’t scared of dick or nothing,” Mitchum said. “I just ain’t want you thinking I’m gay.”
“I ain’t think that, honky. I guess that about answers my next question, huh?” Rico said, “I was gonna ask if white people go downlow.”
“What? What’s that mean?”
“That’s when a couple of men suck each other off or whatever, just don’t tell no one.”
“You mean they faggots?”
“No, it ain’t really faggotry cuz you still fucking bitches,” Rico said.
“You want me to do that?” Mitchum asked, incredulous.
“It ain’t a big deal.” Rico grinned and hefted his cock in his hand, pointing it towards Mitchum. “I mean, it is a big deal. But I ain’t gonna facefuck you or nothing, not like I would in prison.”
“White people do that. Some of them do,” Mitchum said. “Not me.”
“Come on, give it a try. I suck dick good,” Rico said. “I know you wanna get off tonight.”
“Course I do nigga. I just don’t-“
“Ain’t I lettin’ you call me nigga? You owe me.”
“That was not a deal we made.”
“Look, I know this ain’t prison,” Rico said, “But I also know you not gonna call the cops on me. So why don’t you stop saying no and we can trade blowjobs.”
“I ain’t gonna rape you or nothing, but… if you agree to this now, we can sixty nine. If you keep making a big fuss about it, you gonna be taking my dick and then I be goin’ to sleep on top of yo’ ass like the prison bitch you probly gonna be one day.” Rico wrapped his hands around Mitchum’s body, lifting up his shirt. “I even let you be on top when we sixty-nine.”
Mitchum realized that he had a burgeoning boner, and he knew this was going to happen. He had never sucked dick before, or even touched another man’s penis. But Rico awkwardly rubbed his fat cock on Mitchum’s forearm, smearing precum onto his muscled redneck limbs.
“First I gotta pray,” Rico said, “Gotta get forgiveness from the big man.”
“Yeah, I get that. That wasn’t what I was questioning,” Mitchum said, now sitting on the edge of the bed in his skivvies.
“Well it’s a sin, right? Gotta get forgiveness.”
“Then why do it?”
“Gotta get my nut out,” Rico said, “Come on, drop them drawers, honky.”
“Don’t you think God wants you to just not do this kind of stuff? Rather than pray for forgiveness before you even do it?” Mitchum asked.
“You a preacher now? Just shut the fuck up. If God really cared, he’d send me a sign, like something terrible would happen when I do it,” Rico said, laying out on the floor on his back.
Mitchum took a deep breath, noticing the smell in the room getting worse now that Rico’s balls were hanging free. He kneeled down at Rico’s head, and saw thick dark cock throbbing below. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it, to suck another man’s dick, especially a black man. What would his family think?
Positioning his dick over Rico’s head, Mitchum slowly lowered it, yelping a little when Rico roughly grabbed it, unceremoniously ramming Mitchum’s dick in his mouth. Rico’s mouth was hot and wet, his tongue rolling over Mitchum’s fleshy cockhead.
It felt just like a woman’s blowjob, Mitchum thought, except for the facial hair I can feel. Rico swallowed more than half of Mitchum’s dick, which was pretty impressive — most women only ever sucked on the tip.
Rico impatiently put his hands on the back of Mitchum’s head and pushed, ramming Mitchum’s entire face into Rico’s wiry bush. Mitchum gagged, his whole body rejecting the smell. He wanted to turn away, to give up, but he was already getting hard in Rico’s mouth, and he knew backing out now would imperil the deal and potentially ruin everything. He wondered why he had even agreed to this — he wasn’t that horny.
When he tasted Rico’s cockhead on his tongue, Mitchum felt his own boner wither. Rico’s dick hardened at the same time however, and it was huge. Mitchum could barely fit the whole thickness in his mouth. It was salty and hot, and it felt slimy bouncing against his throat.
He couldn’t bring himself to move or to actively suck, so Mitchum just crouched overtop of Rico, holding his dick in place in his mouth. He was embarrassed at how quickly his own dick was getting ready to burst, as Rico’s supple, silky mouth massaged him. Rico loudly slurped on his cock, tickling it, moisture sliding into his thick nest of pubic hair, which Rico’s nose barely reached as he deep-throated.
Mitchum was barely aware of his rapidly swiftening facefucking. He didn’t mean to, but Rico’s rhythmic blowjob made him so hot he did it without thinking about it. His hips flexed and slammed into Rico’s face. Mitchum only stopped when Rico’s choked gagging snapped him out of his sexual bliss, ignoring the sweaty cock in his own mouth and the smell of Rico’s coppery pubic hair in his nostrils.
“I said this ain’t prison, nigga,” Rico said as he coughed. “Don’t fuck my face like that.”
“Sorry,” Mitchum said.
“And you gotta suck, honky. Don’t just sit there with my dick in yo’ mouth. It feels like putting on a used condom,” Rico said.
Mitchum took a deep breath and swallowed the tip of Rico’s dick, forcing himself to go as far down as he could.
“Use a little tongue, nigga. I’m tonguing the hell out of yo’ shit,” he said.
Mitchum’s tongue recoiled from the taste, and he was focused on that, he felt his orgasm receding, though at least he didn’t lose his erection, he thought. He tasted salty liquid, which he realized was precum and instinctively tried to pull himself away. But Rico’s hands were on the back of his head, holding him in place.
The smell of ball-sweat was overwhelming, and the cottony blooming odor of semen was beginning to fill the room as well, nauseating Mitchum’s stomach. The sight and scent of Rico’s balls in front of his face was revolting, Mitchum thought, and he wondered if he was going to be able to finish like this.
“Gonna cum, nigga, move yo’self,” Rico muttered.
Mitchum’s mind registered Rico’s words a moment too late. He took his mouth off Rico’s dick just in time for cum to spurt out, covering Mitchum’s face from his forehead to his chin. Thick rivulets of cum ran down his cheek and dangled from his lips.
Mitchum gagged, desperately clawing the cum off him, wiping it off on the cheap motel carpet. “You came on my face!” he shouted. Mitchum’s hardon had vanished, though Rico continued to suck on it.
Rico took his dick out of his mouth and said, “If you don’t cum soon, I’m giving up.”
“You came on my face!”
“I told you I was cumming. You moved too slow, ain’t my fault,” Rico said, putting Mitchum’s cock back in his mouth.
Mitchum was determined not to take a loud to his face and not even receive a blowjob of his own. He could still feel the cum on his face, no matter how he wiped it off. Millions of sperms wriggled on his face, and he could think of nothing else. Finally he looked back to the TV, where Rico had returned the rap videos with sexy black bitches dancing in lingerie, and Mitchum thought of pussy and tits. Soon enough he got hard again, despite Rico’s body and tense, awkward muscles beneath him.
Without Rico’s dick souring up his mouth, Mitchum focused entirely on the blowjob he was receiving, Rico’s expert throat sucking down most of his great white cock. He moaned so loud he wondered if the people in the room next door could hear, and he stifled his mouth with his arm.
Mitchum came so quickly it was a surprise even to himself, his semen filling Rico’s mouth, which was pinned by Mitchum’s thick body. Rico gagged and bucked, pushing Mitchum off him and onto the ground. Mitchum tried to apologize but Rico punched him.
“Fuck you, honky!” Rico screamed. “This ain’t prison, you can’t just cum in a nigga mouth.”
Rico punched him over and over, and Mitchum was so dazed from the first blow he couldn’t fight back. He gradually fell into a deep unconsciousness.
Buying a large volume of drugs was always stressful, Mitchum thought. Like the first day at a new job, he always felt like at any minute now he was going to break some unwritten rule and it would ruin everything. But that didn’t happen this time. Montez came around in the morning and had the weed, and it was the proper weight, and Rico and Mitchum had the money, and that was that, the deal was done, capitalism practiced, Ayn Rand vindicated at last, both parties satisfied with the outcome.
Satisfied, that is, until they rolled out into the dusty, hot Bumcraw downtown, rolled over a few blocks of asphalt road lined with potholes like chancre sores on a Texan whore, and Mitchum saw a cop behind them flashing its lights.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Mitchum said,.
“Be cool, be cool.”
“We are fucked.”
“We are not fucked. It’s totally hidden. Just be cool. He won’t search us,” Rico said, calm and collected.
The cop was a blonde man with tan skin and broad shoulders, a thick cop-stache and a crude scowl. He demanded identification and when that came back clean, he pulled Mitchum out of the car.
“Where you two coming from?” the cop asked.
“We was just seeing some friends, and now we going home. We’re going back home to New Orleans,” Mitchum said.
“Mind if I look in your trunk?” the cop asked, and Mitchum’s heart sank.
“I rather you didn’t.”
“I don’t give a shit. I don’t trust interracial couples,” the cop said.
“We ain’t fags, officer.”
“We’ll see about that. Pop the trunk, sir.”
Mitchum popped the trunk, and heard Rico gasp in surprised anger.
“That’s a mighty large amount of marijuana in there,” the cop said.
“Please sir, I’ll do anything if you don’t arrest me,” Mitchum said.
“Don’t beg, nigga,” Rico murmured from the front seat.
“Anything?” the cop said, placing his hand on his cock and balls, outlined by his tight brown police uniform pants.
“You want…” Mitchum said.
“Get back in the car,” the cop said, and Mitchum complied. He settled in the driver’s seat, staring straight ahead, hands on the steering wheel just like his father had taught him to do when pulled over by the police. Rico snickered at his obsequiousness. The cop walked around the side of the car, looking both ways on the deserted side street. No one was coming.
He knocked on the driver’s side window and Mitchum rolled it all the way down. The cop was standing there, his crotch right at window height, his bulge apparent in the tight brown uniform slacks. He kneeled down, deep-set eyes looking right at Mitchum and Rico. His nametag said “Ramsburg”.
Officer Ramsburg said, “You said you’d do anything if I don’t arrest you. That apply to you too, son?” He looked at Rico, who clicked his teeth and turned away.
Mitchum was furious and said, “Rico! You had better fucking do whatever he says. I am not getting locked up on account of you.” Rico kept looking out his window as though intensely focused on the dust swirling by in the wind.
“Cuz I got something in mind,” Ramsburg said.
“Hey,” Mitchum asked Rico, “You gonna do it?”
Rico eyed the cop suspiciously and said, “Fine, whatever, yes, I’ll beg. Please don’t arrest us, officer.” He was mocking and begrudging.
Ramsburg nodded and stood, placing his bulging groin back in the window. “Okay, go for it.”
“Hey, what the fuck?” Rico said.
“Get my cock out and suck on it. Both of you, that’s what I like. I want both of your mouths on it,” Officer Ramsburg said.
“Uh-huh, no way, I don’t suck off no white man,” Rico said.
“Come on, you sucked me off last night,” Mitchum said softly.
“You a redneck, not a cop, that’s different, and you was sucking me off too,” Rico said.
“It’s better than going to jail. Right? Come on Rico, you have to do it,” Mitchum said.
“This is Texas, you lookin’ at twenty years, boy,” Officer Ramsburg said, leaning down to speak into the open window. “And you still gonna suck my cock. I stop by the prison a couple times a week to empty my nuts.”
Mitchum gasped and unzipped the cop’s slacks, and Ramsburg’s long cock slipped right out of his fly. It smelled better than Rico’s cock had, like soap rather than stale sweat, but Mitchum still had to close his eyes to take it in his mouth. It tasted bitter on his tongue, salty and cloying. He took it as deep as he could manage, and felt Officer Ramsburg’s strong hands holding his head in place. Mitchum choked and tried to gasp for air, but Ramsburg didn’t let up, and his throat was filled with cock.
“Yeah just like that,” Ramsburg said, finally letting go of Mitchum’s head. “Now lick my balls while your friend takes his turn.”
“I ain’t say I was gonna do it,” Rico said.
“Rico come on!” Mitchum shouted, his voice cracking with desperation, “You want twenty years?”
Rico turned his baseball cap around backwards, sighed and looked at Officer Ramsburg’s cock with hateful eyes. He opened his mouth and gingerly placed it around Ramsburg’s cockhead. Mitchum turned his attention to Ramsburg’s sweaty, hairy balls. They tasted like slimy leather in this mouth, and Mitchum gagged so violently it made Ramsburg laugh. Rico had crawled over the driver’s seat to reach Ramsburg’s dick, and so Mitchum and Rico were sharing one tiny car seat, Rico’s hot, flexing muscles pressing against Mitchum’s.
“Yeah, you ain’t half-bad, boy,” Ramsburg said, holding Rico’s head in place and slowly grinding his dick into the back of Rico’s throat.
His balls jerked sharply upwards, just seconds before Ramsburg sent out thick jets of cum into Rico’s mouth, which overfilled, leaking out the sides of his lips. The cop kept Rico’s head steady on his dick while he bucked and shot a huge wad right down his throat. Rico twisted, trying to pull away, but Ramsburg held onto him tightly.
“Alright, boys, you did good, now step out of the car,” Ramsburg said, putting his spit-moistened cock back in his trousers.
Mitchum and Rico both got out, spitting cum and pubic hair onto the ground. Ramsburg pulled out two sets of handcuffs from his belt and said, “The hotel owner who rented you your rooms witnessed you two commit indecent acts last night, which you just admitted to with me and then compounded by soliciting a sex act from me. That’s two very serious crimes and you’re both under arrest.”
“I said I wouldn’t arrest you for the weed, and I won’t. That’s my mid-August bonus,” he said. “I’m arresting you for sucking cock.”
“We sucked your cock!” Mitchum shouted
“Police officers are allowed to break the law,” Ramsburg said, approaching Rico with the handcuffs first, “If it’s necessary to catch a lawbreaker.”
Rico let out a loud scream, which startled both Mitchum and Ramsburg. Rico punched Office Ramsburg right in the jaw with a loud crack, and Ramsburg dropped to his knees, blood spurting from his lips.
“Come on!” Rico shouted, turning towards the woods to the side of the road. Mitchum didn’t think about what was going on, he just followed Rico into the dense Texan scrub forest.
Mitchum was astonished at how little regard Rico seemed to have for the situation they were in. To Mitchum, they were in some terrible movie, and he was certain he’d now be a fugitive for life, having run from the law and evaded arrest.
“Relax, nigga,” Rico said, and today his use of that word somehow enraged Mitchum, who seethed, pacing in the barn they had stumbled into.
They had run into the woods for miles, continuing even after they were certain they had outrun Officer Ramsburg, only stopping when they came to a farm. No one seemed to be around, and so they snuck into an old barn, obviously not used in many years. It was falling apart, rotting boards mushy-moist with mildew, musty-scented like a stale locker, and crumbly beneath Mitchum’s fingers. Remnants of hay and a broken shovel handle were all that remained inside.
Rico had left soon after they settled in for the night. He claimed he was just going to make sure no one was walking around, and see if he could tell in what direction the farmer who owned this land lived, so we would know which direction he was likely to be coming from whenever he came out this way. But Rico did more than that. He returned with a case of beer, which he said he had knicked from an icebox in the garage.
“Them honkies be sleeping cold,” Rico said, “We cool. Just chill out, man.”
But Mitchum couldn’t just chill out. He paced and drank without joy. He loved the harsh, hopsy taste of beer but tonight, in the dark, with nothing but the flashlight Rico had stolen from the garage to illuminate the barn, the beer tasted flat and watery. It tasted like prison beer would taste like, Mitchum thought, if prisons gave out beer, a thought that made him want to laugh despite the gravity of their situation.
“Ain’t you never run from the cops before?”
“No!” Mitchum said, “I ain’t a nigger.”
“Well let me introduce you to the life of the fugitive, my cracker cousin,” Rico said, standing up, wobbling a little and bowing.
“Shit, what are we gonna do?” Mitchum said, sitting down and putting his head in his hands.
“That cop got the weed,” Rico said, “He ain’t gonna come after us no more. We be fine, we just gotta sneak the fuck out of Texas right quick.”
“How can you be so calm about this?”
“Because I ain’t a fucking pussy,” Rico said, “Drink another beer.”
Mitchum had already had more beers than he could remember, at least four, he thought. But Rico had been putting them back too, and the pile of empties in one rat turd-infested corner of the barn was too big and too blurry for Mitchum to count. He wanted to cry but he knew Rico would just call him a fucking whiteboy again.
“We gonna be on the run forever.”
“No we ain’t,” Rico said, “He ain’t get our name or our fingerprints. That car was rented under a fake name. This is no big deal. What will calm you down?”
“If we can teleport out of the state,” Mitchum said.
“Let’s do it again,” Rico said, grabbing his crotch and arching his eyebrow. Mitchum realized that he did need to get his balls drained, but he didn’t want to suck cock again. When he didn’t refuse right away, Rico took that as a yes and stripped his clothes right off. He flexed his biceps, barely visible in the flashlight’s illumination. “Come on, you ain’t even gotta look at me this time. You can pretend it’s a girl.”
“That won’t work,” Mitchum said, “You got facial hair, and you don’t suck cock like a girl.”
“You rather do anal?” Rico said.
Mitchum hadn’t moved to take off any clothes, and Rico grabbed him, undoing the belt on his jeans. “You can fuck me first,” Rico said, “But we gonna have to use spit for lube.” Before Mitchum could even respond, Rico had dropped his briefs and pulled out his mighty white cock, giving it a few strokes and then swallowing most of it down his throat. Mitchum let out an involuntary moan and Rico hocked up copious saliva, running down Mitchum’s shaft and onto his ballsac.
Rico turned around, spread his asscheeks and said, “Okay, go for it. Be gentle. You got a nigga dick despite being a honky.”
“I can’t fuck a man. It’s a sin.”
“Just pray for forgiveness,” Rico said, “That’s what I’m about to do. God ain’t gonna strike you down for a little buttfucking on the downlow, Mitchum. You know we ain’t got no money, no car, no way to get no pussy no time soon. Yo’ balls gonna explode if you don’t do something with ‘em.”
“You said before that God would send you a sign if He wanted you to stop this downlow stuff,” Mitchum said, “And then we got arrested. Don’t you-“
“Man, we ain’t get arrested. Some cop tried to arrest us but we got away. God don’t send mixed messages,” Rico said, then closed his eyes in silent prayer, on all fours with his hard ass angled upward at Mitchum’s crotch. Mitchum prayed too, wondering as he did why Rico was so deadset on ass-fucking.
Mitchum didn’t want to look down and see the thick tangle of asshair in Rico’s crack. He jabbed his cock towards the hole, wincing when he felt slick sweaty hair rubbing against him.
“Hurry up, nigga,” Rico said, “I’m gonna fuck you too and then we gotta get outta here.”
His asshole was warm and tight, and his semi-hard cock stood a little straighter the moment it passed the rim. Rico let out a subdued gasp, arching his back in pain. Mitchum hadn’t given a lot of thought to the idea that he was going to have to return this ass-fucking next, and the thought made his hair stand on end.
Mitchum moaned without thinking about it as his dick slid a few more inches in, and Rico cried out in pain. “Damn, nigga, damn, fucking hell… This is why I normally only do oral downlow. You best enjoy this shit while you can, honky, I am gonna tear that ass apart soon.”
Knowing that Rico was going to drag out his turn, Mitchum tried to hold back his orgasm, which he felt coming along quickly. But it came on suddenly, and before he knew it, he was filling Rico’s intestines with his cum. He took a deep breath and stopped moved. Rico reached back and slapped Mitchum’s ass. “Hey, nigga? You just cum inside me? Huh? Yo, nigga-“
“Yes, sorry, I-“
Mitchum’s eyes were closed as he gathered his breath, stroking his slimy cock with one hand. He didn’t see Rico turn around and form a first with one hand, connecting right in the center of Mitchum’s handsome face. He tumbled to the ground, blood spurting from his nose.
“You don’t cum in some nigga’s asshole, you stupid honky! Ain’t you know nothing? We on the downlow, not two fags in love!” Rico strangled Mitchum, whose powerful body flailed, finally landing a solid kick on Rico’s thigh, and he dropped Mitchum, who collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.
“I-I’m… sorry,” Mitchum said between gasps.
“That’s right you are, honky. Now I am going to fuck the shit out of you and you best believe I am filling you up with cum. But first, you gonna clean up that mess you made.”
Mitchum still gasped for air, rubbing his throat delicately as Rico turned around, pointing his hairy, sweaty ass at Mitchum’s face. Rico pushed Mitchum to the ground and sat on his face, the salty asshair rubbing across Mitchum’s face. Mitchum’s whole body contorted in disgust.
“Lick that up,” Rico said, pushing down with his whole body onto Mitchum’s face.
The rough bits of plant matter and splintering wood dug into Mitchum’s back, as his hands flailed in the dark barn, crickets chirping merrily all around him. His tongue wiggled out of his mouth against its own inner nature, Mitchum using all of his will to force it out. It dug its way through his hair and Mitchum tasted the funky ass-taste of his crevice. He didn’t know how close his tongue was to Rico’s asshole until he felt it open up, and the salty slimy taste of his own cum and Rico’s assjuice filled his mouth.
“Yeah, you like that mess you made?” Rico said, over and over, pinning Mitchum down with his whole body. “Guess not, looks like you don’t like it one bit. Well, I guess you learned a valuable lesson about asking permission before you try to make a nigga yo’ bitch. You still my homie and all, cuz we just downlow — if we was in lockup, I’d be slitting yo’ throat right now… Or not right now, cuz I ain’t fuck the shit out of you yet. But I’d be fixing to.” Rico lifted his ass and Mitchum let out a loud gasp for air, spitting the santorum in his mouth onto the ground, choking and gagging. “You done cleaning up down there?”
“Yes, fuck, yes,” Mitchum said.
“Don’t blame me, it’s yo’ mess,” Rico said, “Now you ready to get fucked?” He waited, moving around to rest his cock on Mitchum’s muscular asscheeks. “I ain’t hear you. I like to hear you say it.”
“Yes, I’m ready to get fucked.” Mitchum sighed, spitting out residue and hair from his mouth.
“Say you want it.”
“Rico, I ain’t sayin’ that. I can’t believe you talked me into this at all. You’re such an asshole-“
“Yeah, talk to me like a white bitch, that gets me hard,” Rico said, slipping the tip of his dick in. Mitchum roared in pain. “Yeah, I am gonna fuck this shit hard and dry.” Rico slapped Mitchum’s asscheeks and rammed his cock further in.
Mitchum’s whole body involuntarily spasmed and he jerked forward. Rico’s muscular arms wrapped around his chest, and Rico laid on top of him, feeding his dick in. Mitchum felt Rico’s toned muscles rubbing across his back, sweat making their flesh stick together. Rico moaned and said, “Oh fuck yeah, this ass is nice. You my little white bitch now. You thought you could get one over on this nigga, but you can’t. I got you now, bitch.”
“I ain’t call you a bitch,” Mitchum said through his teary wincing.
“Who in this room got a nigga dick in his ass? Huh? Just you. Sounds like you the bitch now, bitch,” Rico said, rubbing his whole body against Mitchum’s.
Pushing Mitchum’s face into the rotting floorboards, Rico straightened his back as he pushed a few more inches of his dick in. Mitchum screamed in pain, muffled only at the last second by his arm. He was terrified of being caught, especially being caught with a black man’s cock in his ass. The pain was excruciating, like he was being torn in half. He wsa sure his asshole was ripping apart.
Rico relentlessly pushed more of his dick in, now past halfway. “Yeah, bitch, this’ll teach you to cum in a nigga ass. What you think you is? A prison guard? Don’t think so, just another redneck for now. I bet if you great-grandpappy saw you he’d shit a brick.” Rico pushed Mitchum’s back down. “Keep that shit down so I can get it all in there.”
His lungs hyperventilating as pain coursed through his body, Mitchum bit his own arm to keep from screaming in agony. His free hand clawed into the splintery wood beneath him. He wanted to tell Rico to stop the trash-talk, but he couldn’t bring himself to take his mouth off his arm.
Rico groaned, as quietly as he could muster, the last of his dick slipping inside Mitchum’s intestines. “Alright, honky, you took all of it. Now time for the real ass-fucking to begin. I ain’t gonna lie, this will hurt.” Rico grabbed ahold of Mitchum’s dirty blonde hair, then slammed his hips against Mitchum’s ass.
Tears welled up in Mitchum’s eyes as Rico’s cruel grunting reverberated in his ears. He was panting for breath now, in too much pain even to scream. He flattened himself on the floor, spread-eagled while Rico’s whole body pounded on top of him.
“You know, I ain’t no faggot, but there is something to screwing a big, muscled man, like you got oceans of fuck beneath you. I ain’t saying it’s right, but it’s wrong in all the right ways,” Rico said, lowering his own body so his muscles dragged against Mitchum’s back.
His ass was numb, the pain so intense Mitchum couldn’t even feel it except in the deepest corners of his intestines, where Rico’s bulging cock slammed against his innards.
“Alright, I almost forgive you bitch, but the last thing you gotta do for me? Take this load in yo’ mouth. Open up!” Rico said. “Ass to mouth cumshots is the price for an unauthorized creampie in niggatown. You should know that.”
Mitchum wanted to shout no but his dick was still throbbing in his ass, hot and alien inside, pushing against his rectum, his scratchy pubic hair dragging along Mitchum’s cheeks.
“I know you ain’t gonna like this,” he said. Rico took his dick out of Mitchum’s ass, stroking it quickly and jabbing it at Mitchum’s face. He used one hand to pinch Mitchum’s nostrils, screaming, “Open up bitch, you owe me.”
Mitchum finally had to open his mouth, shouting at Rico who slammed his dick into the back of Mitchum’s throat. For the second time, he tasted santorum and his whole body fought against Rico’s grasp. The cum was thick and it filled Mitchum’s mouth, leaking out the sides of his cheeks and down his neck. He didn’t know how much he actually swallowed, but most of it came back up anyway when Rico finally removed his dick and Mitchum vomited all over the barnyard floor.
“Alright,” Rico said, “Clean yo’self up and then we gotta get out of here.”
“You ain’t goin’ nowhere,” a male voice boomed out, and Mitchum heard the familiar click of handcuffs.
Rico yelped, and Mitchum saw Officer Ramsburg dragging the handcuffed black man to the other side of the barn and tossing him to the ground.
“You boys done messed up by running from me,” Ramsburg said, putting handcuffs on Mitchum. “You wanna apologize?”
“Fuck you,” Rico muttered, crawling to his feet.
“You gonna have a lifetime to figure out a little humility,” Ramsburg said to Rico.
“Lifetime? They ain’t give out lifetimes for a little oral sex,” Rico said.
Without warning Ramsburg pointed his gun at Mitchum, who felt a sharp sting in his side. He couldn’t breathe. He reached one trembling hand to his belly and saw that he was bleeding profusely onto the rough stubbled wood floor.
“Now that you killed yo’ little white butt-buddy boyfriend,” Ramsburg said, his voice fading in Mitchum’s ear, “I am gonna send you one motherfucking stamp every week you locked up. I want you to write to all of your little queerbait buddies and tell them to stay the fuck out of Bumcraw, Texas.”