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I pull open my ass, and start pushin’.
“Damn, you have a nice ass. I love the way your balls hang.”
I frown. “Yo, my man. You gonna have’ta shut the fuck up. All this yappin’ is makin’ it hard for me to take this shit.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t help myself. You don’t know how amazingly sexy it is to see a muscular, masculine man’s ass pulled open over me. You’re so sexy. The way your brown hole puckers when you strain. It’s like it’s winking at me. Seeing you squatted over me is such a turn-on.”
“Well, no disrespect, my dude, but I’ma need you to keep the fuck quiet so I can concentrate.”
“Okay. It’s going to be hard, like my cock. But I’ll try.”
I close my eyes and push.
“Can I touch your balls?”
I shoot him a nasty look over my shoulder. “Nah, man. I ain’t wit’ that shit.”
“Okay. Just asking. But I’ll pay extra.”
I ain’t wit’ havin’ another muhfucka touchin’ my shit. But, uh…it’s all about collectin’ this paper. So…
“How much more?”
“Fifty more dollars. I just want to touch them. Nothing else.”
I hold my dick up in case the muhfucka tries to be on some slick shit. “Aiight, you can touch my balls. But don’t squeeze ’em. And don’t be tryna grab at my dick.”
He moans, lightly grazin’ my balls wit’ the tips of his fingers in soft gentle strokes.
Oh shit.
I grunt. Fart. Then dump a pile of hot shit on his chest. And this nasty muhfucka nuts on himself without ever touchin’ his dick.
I grab one of the big, fluffy towels he has on the bed and wipe my ass.
“Here,” he says, holdin’ a hand out. “I’ll take that.”
I hand him the shitty towel. Then grab my clothes and head into his marbled bathroom. He has a washrag and soap already up on the marble counter for me.
I reach for some toilet paper, wipe my ass some more, then run water over the rag, soapin’ it up. I wash my ass out wit’ the rag, then toss it up on the counter, catchin’ my reflection in the mirror on my way out.
Muhfucka, you wild as hell.
I smirk, steppin’ back out into dude’s bedroom. I stop in my tracks. Dude’s got my shit smeared over his dick ‘n’ he’s jackin’ off while sniffin’ the towel I wiped my ass on. He stares at me, grunting as his nut spurts outta his reddish-pink dick.
“I couldn’t help myself,” he says all sheepish ‘n’ shit, grabbin’ the other towel ‘n’ wipin’ his hands on it.
He reaches for his robe. “Give me a sec to wash my hands, then I’ll let you out.”
A few seconds later, he’s walkin’ me down the stairs. “You seem like a really cool guy. Maybe we can make this a regular thing. I’m really a regular married guy who happens to have a weird fetish…”
Yo, shut ya shitty-ass up ‘n’ just show me to the muthafuckin’ door.
“I love to be farted and pooped on. The smell turns me on.”
I frown. But keep my thoughts to myself. I ain’t hear to judge him. If that’s his thing, and he’s willin’ to cough up that paper, then fuck it. I’ll come through ‘n’ shit on the muhfucka. Hell, I’ll even shit in his mouth if it shuts him the fuck up.
“You can smoke, drink, and watch porn if you want…”
