Date: Sun, 21 Aug 2016 06:36:32 +0000 (UTC) From: Jon Royale <jon_royale@yahoo.com> Subject: Straight Buddy Ray 23 STRAIGHT BUDDY RAY 23: THERE GOES THE NEIGHBORHOOD copyright (c) 2011 JRoyale The following is a work of erotic fiction containing graphic depictions of sexual encounters between consenting adults. The author requests that you respect his copyright. Download or print the material for your own personal use but kindly do not post it elsewhere on the Internet---or Officer Rick Parker might have to make an official visit to your neighborhood and rough you up a little. . . The middle aged man, built like a solid block of muscle, happily found himself the white meat in a spicy Mexican sandwich. One dark Latin cock plowed through his manly asshole with brute force while the other mercilessly speared itself down his yawning gullet. The man wasn't attempting to fight either of them off; he was a willing participant in the interracial threesome. Day laborers, most likely illegals, he'd selected them from a group of hopefuls, wanting the job to end precisely like this. One was named Joaquin, the other Julio. Both of them twenty-four, twenty-five at the most. Both wore that tell-tale gleam in their eyes, that one that said they'd do just about anything for the under-the-table American dollar. For all he knew, they were brothers. They didn't speak English very well. But sex, in any language, was universal. Who knew that moving day could be so enjoyable? It all started about a month ago when Brandon Davidson decided to put the family home up for sale. Brandon inherited the old place when his widowed mother suffered an unfortunate fall from an upper-story window. Originally arriving in New Jersey from his home in the Midwest to dispose of his mother's assets, Brandon soon found reason to maintain ties to his childhood home on sleepy Mansgrove Lane. For the past few years Brandon, a self-employed businessman, and his twin sons made the place their summer retreat. Greta, Brandon's beautiful Scandinavian wife, wasn't nearly as captivated by the neighborhood and instead opted to relocate overseas to keep tabs on their joint European accounts. It was quite some time before Brandon discovered exactly how his deceitful wife was procuring new business. He met Nigel Davenport in the lobby bar of his wife's London hotel. Unaware of her husband's impromptu trip Greta hadn't been there to greet him. Having no access to her suite, Brandon decided to spend his time waiting in the bar. Nigel was a distinguished, good-looking businessman in London on a series of meetings. It quickly became apparent to Brandon that the man was coming on to him. In short order they were upstairs in Nigel's suite rutting like dogs in the crisp hotel sheets. Not until later that evening did Brandon learn Nigel was in fact his wife's newest client! It was an uncomfortable dinner for all three, although Brandon couldn't quite understand the cause of Greta's discomfort. He'd flown home with a nagging suspicion clouding his thoughts, a suspicion ultimately confirmed. As the summer sadly came to a close the Davidsons, father and sons, were in the process of closing up the Jersey house for the winter. Tyler was the one to respond to the door bell and got an instant itch up his ass hole when his baby blues fell on the handsome, well-dressed man standing on their porch. At just about the same time Brandon was bounding down the staircase, nearly dropping the load of soiled towels bundled in his arms when he saw the man framed in the doorway. It was none other than Nigel! With both Trevor and Tyler curiously standing in the background, Nigel suggested they take a stroll and talk. When they were in the vacant children's playground at the end of the street and seated on a park bench Nigel revealed the reason for his visit. He confessed to Brandon that he and Greta had been lovers those few weeks ago when Brandon had come calling. Their involvement ceased the moment papers had been signed and their business deal sealed. Nigel later learned from a business competitor that it was the way Greta did business; seducing a prospective client, securing his account and moving on toward the next. A stunned Brandon listened attentively as Nigel assured him he'd had no idea Greta was Brandon's wife when they engaged in their tete-a-tete that afternoon. Sincerity was evident in his voice as he apologized for the faux pas. As it turned out, Nigel had been unable to stop thinking about Brandon and the wild, passionate sex they'd shared. Even if Greta had not so unceremoniously dumped him, he would have called an end to their involvement himself. It took Brandon a few days to process this new information. When the smoke cleared, Brandon filed for divorce from Greta. His wife wasn't as stunned by the move as she was to learn that Brandon knew all about her unfaithful actions. Wanting nothing further to do with her, Brandon agreed to sell Greta one hundred percent of his shares in their joint company. The boys, now nineteen, had already grown distant from their business-whore mother and would be attending college in a matter of weeks. Both expressed the desire to have Brandon's home as theirs, wherever he chose to be. Brandon chose a globe-trotting life with Nigel, who turned out to be more well-off than any of them imagined. An ecstatic Nigel promised to groom Brandon for a vice-presidency position within his company. With his divorce in the hands of their respective lawyers and the boys going off to school, Brandon saw no reason to merely hang around. Desirous of making a break for once and for all, he spontaneously decided to put his mother's house on the market. Although he would miss his New Jersey fuck buddies, especially hot straight Ray right across the street, he'd found true love with Nigel. As it turned out, Brandon didn't even get the chance to procure a Realtor. As soon as Jon Kingston heard about Brandon's intentions he expressed interest in purchasing the place. They arrived at an agreeable price and in short order the old Davidson homestead changed hands. After a sentimental good bye to the many men of Mansgrove he'd come to intimately know over the past few years, Brandon boarded a plane and flew off to begin his new life. Kingston would hold fond memories of Brandon and his sons. The handsome blond man was a hot, enjoyable fuck. He'd never gotten chance to tap the asses of either of the twins; if they'd stayed around a bit longer he might have gotten some. Especially from the one named Tyler. That kid had really been giving him the eye lately. Ray was the one would most likely miss his summer neighbor most of all. They'd become the best of fuck buddies, Ray moseying across the lawn late at night when the wife wasn't putting out to get a piece of ass from the hunky blond. Perhaps, Jon figured, with Brandon out of the picture Ray just might get horny enough to throw him a fuck every now and then. Ray hadn't gotten down and nasty with him ever since all that Joey business came out. Although he tried hard as hell not to show it, Jon was yearning for a rough and tumble macho man session with the guy who'd been the apple of his eye since he was sweet succulent sixteen. Moving day arrived in early October '03, an unseasonably warm fall day. By early afternoon the temperature spiked at sixty-nine degrees. Jon set his alarm for an early rise and had shit, showered and shaved by seven. He'd spent the better part of the past two weeks boxing up his possessions, now stacked throughout the townhouse. It was now only a matter of carting them, along with his furniture, to the place on Mansgrove. He dressed quickly, mindful of the physical exertion he'd endure throughout the day. It was hardly fall attire, but Jon donned a white cotton-T and worn denim shorts cut provocatively high on his thick thighs. Throwing on a flannel shirt against the chill morning air and slipping into a pair of Timberlands, Jon was ready to face the day. The trip out to the rental center where he'd reserved a truck to make the move was a short one. On the way back to the townhouse he made a slight detour. Two towns over, along the waterfront, was where the day laborers hung out. Crowded around the street corner they waited, hopeful that someone in need of their services would happen by. Many independent landscaping services procured their help that way. Everything was handled in cash, under the table, with no annoying employment papers filed and Uncle Sam none the wiser. Many of these laborers were in the States illegally and would otherwise have a difficult time finding work without proper documentation. Jon pulled curbside and surveyed the possibilities. Most were Mexican. He immediately rejected the older ones and dismissed the few willowy teens staring at him through hopeful eyes. He finally settled on the two more strapping of the bunch. They appeared as though they could easily handle the task at hand. He figured them to be in their early to mid twenties, both with coal black hair and mischievous beady eyes. The one had striking facial features accentuated by high chiseled cheek bones, attesting to his Aztec heritage. The other had a more rotund face, probably Mayan. "You," Jon pointed at one, then the other, "And you." The two men scrambled to the truck as though fearful Kingston might change his mind. There was disappointment on many of the faces in the crowd. They'd just lost their chance at work for the day and were unsure another opportunity would come by. When the two were squeezed into the front seat alongside him, Jon began the short trip to the townhouse. Conversation was minimal as the Mexicans use of the English language was rather poor. Somehow he'd managed to make them understand what they'd be doing today. Their names were Joaquin and Julio. At least he'd remembered that much Spanish from high school. They jokingly referred to him as Meester Juan. Jon was fully aware they hadn't missed the ragged cutoffs riding high on his thigh and framing his abundant bulge. While he might not have an understanding of their language, it was fairly obvious the kidding banter between the two had something to do with their new employer. He was equally sure neither of the two missed the appraising glances he gave their Mexican baskets, awfully tempting framed in their worn, nearly threadbare jeans. It took four trips to get all his crap from one place to the other. As the morning chill dispensed and the unseasonable warmth rose they were all breaking sweat midway through the second load. Jon shucked his flannel shirt, baring his massive weight lifter's arms and obviously impressing the other two. Not to be outdone by the gringo Joaquin, the Aztec, hastily followed suit. Without benefit of an undershirt and stripped to the waist, he was a fine specimen of young manhood. His brown body was smooth, lean and tightly muscled. The swollen biceps on the hot Mexican, although no where as immense as Kingston's, spoke of much manual labor. Joining the other preening roosters, Julio shucked his own worn work shirt and used it to mop the dampness under his funky armpits. The Mayan was a little meatier than his buddy with the beginnings of a belly, possibly from downing too many Coronas. His naked, sweaty chest was equally smooth and rugged with two enormous nipples capping the mounds of his chunky bronzed pecs. Jon had seen quarter-sized man nips before----but Julio's teats were more like Susan B. Anthony coins! It was on the third trip when they were unloading the contents of his bedroom that one of the boxes came apart. Julio had his thick arms wrapped around the carton when the bottom gave way and spilled the contents over the upper floor landing. Muttering a curse, he squatted down to collect the items---mostly periodicals---together. He'd gathered one handful when suddenly the cover of one magazine caught his attention. His dark eyes widened when he realized he'd fallen upon the white man's porn collection! Thumbing through the pages, he quickly saw that the mag was devoid of any female anatomy---it was a queer book! Coming out of the master bedroom at the end of the hallway where he'd deposited his own haul, Joaquin came up on his buddy. With a big grin plastered on his Mexican face Julio handed the wide-open magazine to the other man. Joaquin glanced at the centerfold where one nude man was taking the load of another all over his face and broke into easy laughter. Paging through the fuck book he comically groped his crotch and pumped his tongue against the inside of his cheek. In their native tongue they both agreed they were working for a macho cocksucker. When they heard Jon re-entering the house from downstairs they quickly stuffed everything back into the box and hurried it into the room, hiding the broken container behind other boxes. Throughout the rest of the work day they kept giving each other side-long glances and breaking into fits of laughter, the reason for which was lost on Jon. Kingston was having a hard enough time containing himself as it was. Cramped together in the front seat of the truck during each trip, arms and legs inevitably came into contact and stirred a burning in his loins. Julio always seemed to be the one taking the middle spot next to Jon, who had a difficult time keeping his eyes on the road when what he really wanted to do was lean down and take one of those mammoth nipples between his lips and hungrily nurse on it. The heady scent of sweaty male bodies filled the cab of the truck, causing Jon's libido to soar to dangerous heights. The move was fully complete late in the afternoon. Jon's new digs was a clutter of stacked boxes and scattered furniture. He knew it would be quite a while before he had everything set to right and made comfortable. Digging into his wallet he produced two crisp hundred dollar bills, handing one to Joaquin and other to Julio. "Gracias, amigos," he told them in the barest Spanish he knew, muttering afterward mostly to himself, "Guess it's time to take you back where I found you." The two of them inspected the bill they'd been handed without much enthusiasm. Jon figured he'd been more than generous. A hundred bucks cash for a day's work was pretty good money in anyone's book. Yet these two seemed as though they expected more. Jon wished like hell he knew what they were saying as they chatted back and forth amongst each other. Finally they folded the bill and placed it in their jean's pocket as their dark eyes glared at him. Growing a bit apprehensive Jon quickly sized up the situation. He figured he could take one of them if they tried anything, but doubted he'd be able to stand up to both. His best bet was to make it to the door. Outside, in plain view of the neighbors, the sneaky Mexicans might think twice about shaking him down. Kingston was about to make his move and maneuver his way to the entrance when the atmosphere in the room took an abrupt turn. The handsomer of the two, Joaquin, with his high cheek bones and narrow, perfectly shaped nose, took a huge handful of his packed crotch and began lewdly groping himself. His wet, pink tongue fell out of his mouth, the blunt tip flicking obscenely. Julio quickly followed suit but, taking his display a step further, unzipped his fly and reached inside to fondle himself through his jockey shorts. There was an almost wolfish gleam in the eyes of both men as they fell back on the sofa behind them, legs widespread, and toyed with their junk. "You want to suck our deeks, meester?" the stocky Mayan asked, startling Jon with his use of the language. Shock turned to amusement and a thin smile crossed the older man's face. "Why, you sneaky fucks! You understand English perfectly well." "What? You think we stupeed?" Julio asked with a glint in his dark eyes. "Oh, no. Not stupid at all," Jon declared, pulling his tank top from his body and flexing big pectorals in front of the other two. He groped his own rapidly growing bulge and stepped closer to the two Mexican studs. Joaquin had unfastened his jeans enough so Jon could now see the line of dark man fur beginning at the sexy indentation of his navel and disappearing under the band of his jockeys. Kingston's eyes flared with desire, his tongue absently slipping out to circle his lips as he dropped his shorts. Clad in bikini briefs which did little to contain his formidable equipment, Kingston slid between the two on the sofa. Reaching to either side he flattened his hands over their torsos and allowed them to slide down until his fingers were dipping into their steamy shorts. Both were quick to kick off their footwear and yank their jeans down to their ankles, allowing the white man free access to their manhood. Reaching into their undies, Jon wrapped his hands around two impressive pieces of Mexican cock. His own blood engorged fuck tool had popped free from the elastic of his briefs and lay flat against his belly, excitedly pooling pre-cum into the dip of his navel. Kingston fondled both meaty cocks in his sweaty palms, caressing their rapidly increasing length. Sexy Joaquin was the larger of the two---but what Julio lacked in length he made up for in girth. As it grew fatter and fatter Jon's fingers could no longer meet around the pulsing thing. While the white man stroked them into full erection the two workers helped him out by sliding out of their worn jockey shorts. Jon drew in a sharp gasp as he got his first look at two beautiful specimens of prime manhood. Joaquin's was a classic beauty, eight solid inches of flawless uncut cockmeat. Julio's, in the other hand, was much like the man himself: shorter, but beefier, with a plum-sized helmet atop its thick stalk. "You like?" Julio asked with a wide, toothy grin. "Oh, I like," Jon easily admitted. Clutching Joaquin's shaft more tightly he skinned the dark, velvety foreskin back to expose the blunt-nosed dick head thus far hidden from sight. Kingston's eyes grew round with wonder when the fleshy lips parted and a clear dew-drop of pre-cum pulsed out into the open. Fascinated, Jon slid the slippery foreskin back over the crown, then down again, playing an adult peek-a-boo with the glistening head. Turning to face the opposite direction Kingston groped for the tomato-sized nuts dangling between Julio's parted thighs and massaged them in the palm of one hand. The Mayan's ball bag was hairy and heavy, hinting at a load begging for release. His eyes focused on the fleshy mounds of man pec and the huge prominent teats. In all his experiences Jon had never seen aerola that large on another man; Julio's nubs were like those of a female! In short order he dropped his face to attack the man tit nearest him, bathing the dark-brown crest in creamy spit and tongue flipping the engorged nub. Each lash of his taster was punctuated by a guttural grunt from the Mexican, attesting to his enjoyment. Julio's brown cock was arcing up from his hairy groin, twitching and jerking each time Jon's teeth gnawed on his juicy nipple. Joaquin quickly proved to be a brawny stud who did not like to be left out of the action. Grabbing a fistful of Kingston's short salt-and-pepper hair, he jealously tore the middle aged man's face away from the chest of his amigo. Taking him by the back of the neck he forced Jon down toward his towering cock. The King quickly took the dark beauty by the hairy base and dug his tongue under the fleshy cock skin covering the torpedo-shaped head. He slobbered around in there, tasting the true funky essence of handsome Joaquin. The hidden crown was sliming tangy lube juice, a delectable treat which Kingston eagerly slurped up. Seemingly fascinated by the Mexican's foreskin, he could have toyed around in there for the rest of the afternoon but Kingston knew the good-looking Mexican desired something more. His wet tongue began a wicked journey down the full length of the solid shaft. Wrapping his wiggling member around the pulsating sides of Joaquin's strong dick, he bathed the entire thing in his bubbly spittle until it glistened. At the base he nuzzled his face into the hairy, low-hanging scumbag. The scent of man sweat collected there from the day's exertions caused Kingston to audibly groan with lustful desire. Like a thirsty pup he lapped his tongue across the silken flesh of the Mexican's heavy, pungent scrotum until the dark hairs were plastered against it with his saliva. He burrowed his face even lower, big hairy balls draped over his forehead, as he ventured into the handsome Mexican's secret place. Joaquin's strong thighs parted even wider to accommodate Jon's venture. Kingston's slimy tongue slid into the tangy valley directly between the other man's legs, the tip searching and searching until it found the dangerous dip that marked the entrance to Joaquin's man hole. He teasingly flicked at it, for those few seconds tasting the heady nectar of the Mexican's ass and wishing Joaquin would raise himself so he could really get in there and eat him the fuck out. But strong hands on his shoulders yanked him out of the treasure trove, halting those delectable plans. Julio had grown tired of being a casual observer and desired some action for himself. The squat-faced Mexican bore an angry scowl as he roughly shoved Jon's face down toward his steamy crotch. Not that the older man was about to raise any objections; in fact, he was thoroughly enjoying being manhandled by the two horndog day workers. It was, perhaps, why he'd selected these two from all the other eager hopefuls. Going even further, it was why he'd donned his slut shorts for the move. All along he'd intended for the day to end just like this. With his face mere inches from Julio's throbbing shaft Jon was afforded a closer view of the fat, greasy knob resting atop his steely pecker. Only once before had he seen a cock-head that pronounced: on young Joey Giagianno. Judging by mushrooms, they both could pass for brothers. And Jon knew only too well the pure blissful hell it created when he finally managed to lodge the fat thing in his throat. Licking his lips expectantly he attempted, unsuccessfully, to close his fingers around the short---but massive---girth of the thing and paused to admire the thick and perfectly shaped corona. When the deep, pouting piss-slit oozed a dribble of clear man-goo Jon lashed out with his pink tongue and quickly swiped it up. That initial contact of Jon's talented licker on his beef-steak was all the teasing Julio could take. Grabbing hold of his shaft with pudgy fingers he slapped it against each side of the grown man's face in introduction and then savagely stuffed it between his lips. Jon's yawning mouth enveloped the brown cock, taking it until that gargantuan head struck the back of his throat. It was probably a blessing Julio's size was all in width and not length; only about an inch of cock meat was unattended. But Jon took care of that in short order. Pooching out his lips until they nestled in Julio's thick man-bush, he managed to cover every inch of the Mexican's hot chorizo. He flailed at the buried meat with his wet tongue, feeling it pulsate excitedly in his mouth. The fat head seemed to expand even larger, threatening to cut off the flow of oxygen to his lungs. "Suck that beeg deek, meester!" the Mexican ordered. Jon wasn't about to argue size at this point. The way Julio's hefty junk had his jaws strained wide apart was proof positive that a dude didn't need to be hung like Trigger to impress a veteran cocksucker like the King. Jon went to town on it, almost surprised that a pro like himself would gag when the plum-sized knob introduced itself to his tonsils. He noisily sucked on the solid shaft while his tongue lashed around the thick heavy cord running up the underside of it. Julio quickly responded by moaning huskily and grinding his pelvis against Jon's manly face. Jon gave him the real treatment, regardless of the tiny tears forming in the corners of his eyes or the fact that he could hardly breathe around the bloated meat. The tendons in his neck were viciously pronounced and snot was dripping from his widened nostrils, yet he didn't care. The two Mexicans had him in serious heat and he wasn't about to stop until all of them were thoroughly satiated. Keeping hot suction on the twitching dick, Jon's strong arms moved to grasp the short Mexican under the knees and reposition him on the misplaced sofa. He effortlessly swiveled the naked stud around so that Julio's legs were up off the floor stretched across the sofa, his lower back against the arm rest. At the same time Kingston angled his own burly body to better advantage. Moving between those squat legs, he slid big hands around the Mexican's hips, slipped them under Julio's beefy buttocks and continued noisily slurping on the other man's throbbing dick. In this position his lower body was supported upon his knees on the cushions of the sofa, big burly ass thrust out and up at the other stud. Handsome Joaquin took little time in getting the intended message. The dark-haired, dark-eyed Aztec god licked his chops as he sat there stroking his meat, eyes trained on the winking pucker. Jon smarted when one big hand came down hard on his left buttock, yet a small smile turned up the corners of his cock-stuffed mouth. Joaquin was impressed there was barely a jiggle of butt flesh; the white hunk was solidly built from head to foot. Running his hand over the smooth marble cheek, and continually stroking his heavily leaking prick, Joaquin dipped his big thumb into the wide-open trench and rubbed it around Jon's hot hole. The wrinkly flesh positively quivered at his touch, prompting the Mexican to hock a glob of spit directly onto the spot, smear it around a bit and then slide that thumb into the hot, grasping fuck-hole. He moved it in and out, twisting it around inside the white man, fully aware that Kingston was enjoying having him toy with the twitching hole. The gringo was anxious to be fucked, and Joaquin's big, sticky prong was ready for some real action. The cushions on the wickedly occupied sofa heaved as Joaquin took position behind Kingston, who thrilled with anticipation when the handsome Mexican's hairy thighs made contact with the back of his own legs. Jon grew even more excited when the hefty slab of man meat was introductorily slapped against one firm buttock, then the other. The tell-tale sign of slick spitting told him the Aztec god was lubing his rod, readying it for the fuck that was about to ensue. A chill traveled down his spine as the hot piece was dragged down his sticky, open trench until the bulbous head zeroed in on its target. The breath caught in his throat when Joaquin's rough, calloused hands took him by the hips and then, suddenly, the handsome Mexican was forcefully ramming his mammoth cock meat deep inside the gasping sink hole. Jon nearly choked on the fat prick lodged in his gullet at the initial thrust. Joaquin had him cock-stuffed in the blink of an eye, his big prong buried up in the farthest recesses of Kingston's far-from-virgin rectum. Not one given to social amenities, Joaquin immediately set the tone of the fuck beat. It was hard and rough, his colossal cock plunging in and out of the muscular man cunt with raw determination. His sweaty low-hangers swung between the juncture of Jon's thighs, noisily slapping against Jon's own dangling sac and causing a kick in the older man's belly. The studly beauty fucked like a warrior, barreling his savage cock through Kingston's greasy ass ring and churning up his guts. Jon hadn't been so royally fucked in a long while; he was exhilarated by each powerful thrust. He only feared that, if the Mexican kept up with this break-neck speed, he'd be shooting his load in no time---and Jon wasn't anxious to have this special ass plowing end any time soon. In his country Joaquin was known as something of a stud to all the local Latinas. From a young age his big, hard dick had never been at a loss for pussy. He craved the moist, warm spot between a girl's silky thighs, thoroughly enjoying it with both mouth and penis. With women he was a slow and sensual lover, as conscious with bringing his partner to orgasm as he was with his own release. He was a legendary cocksman, adored by ladies and envied by men. Escaping poverty in his native Mexico, Joaquin successfully sneaked through the border to America, where the handsome Mexican quickly learned that American women---and some of the men---were just as attracted by his dark, good looks. They somehow found his poor English endearing and were captivated by his skillful love making. Whereas he was tender and gentle with the female sex, Joaquin was a rampaging bull with the men he chose to fuck. Those guys were only there to fulfill his momentary sexual needs---nothing more. He used them as a cum dump, totally insensitive to their own needs, and cast them aside like a soiled rag when he was through with them. Not that many of them minded. Most considered it a major coup to be so powerfully fucked by the good-looking, brooding Mexican stud. The impressively muscular middle-aged man who'd hired him out for this day would certainly be no exception. It always gave Joaquin immense pleasure to royally plow the ass of such a man, ripped, buff and looking like he could crack a coconut with his bare hands---but a total whore once naked and down on all fours. Slamming his throbbing cock all the way to the hilt, Joaquin ground it around in the moist, warm hole and brought a long, low groan from the older man sucking on his amigo's prick. Joaquin wanted some more of that action for himself, too; the dude gave some fabulous head. But for now he was enjoying his turn at some of the primest male pussy he'd ever dove his experienced meat into. The gringo had his lips wrapped around the immense head of Julio's fat sausage, using his tongue to coat it with foamy saliva while he stroked the remainder of the shaft in a sweaty palm. Julio's eyes rolled upward with ecstasy as the expert mouth slurped on his gigantic plug. He knew he was leaking goo, a fact which served to further entice the muscle daddy. All sorts of appreciative moans and groans came from those heavily working lips as the man savored the heady male flavors. Soon he was diving back down on the entire shaft to the wide root, burying his face in Julio's musky crotch and sucking like a human vacuum. Julio grunted in pleasure, his dark cock tingling with the awesome sensations inside this wet, warm place. Jon sucked him until he just couldn't suck anymore, then he was bobbing up and down on the thick stalk, taking it from alternating angles. Saliva frothed from the corners of his working lips and Julio could see the shape of his fat cock head as it punched out against one side of Jon's grizzly cheek, then the other. His sensitive crown was really being given the treatment by the other man's heavily working mouth and rapidly strumming tongue, causing the juice in his bloated nuts to steadily simmer and rise to an eventual boil. Joaquin felt the sleek walls of the muscle daddy's ass convulsing around his eight-inch ram-charger. The horny fuck was bucking his ass back against him, taking Joaquin's full-throttle assault head-on. Driving his cock home again and again, he thrilled to the sensations of Jon's entire anal sheath pulsating around his shaft. It was as if the man was sucking his dick with his ass almost like he was doing to Julio with his mouth. He mashed his hairy groin against Jon's ass each time he plunged his beast into the quivering man cunt, ramming the man as hard as he could. His ball bag was no longer dangling freely; it had slowly begun to tighten up against his body, just as Kingston's had done. In short order the glorious fuck would be over. Kingston would be staining the cushions with his cum load while Joaquin blasted wads of love juice up his twitching male ass. Fate stepped in in the person of Julio who'd decided, despite one of the best blow job's thus far, he wanted a little ass for himself. He said something to Joaquin in his native tongue. The other, never losing a fuck beat, appeared reluctant to give up his claim on Jon's ass but ultimately relented. Jon drew in a deep, labored breath as the magnificently fierce cock was pulled from his battered butt and the two Mexicans traded places. Joaquin sat his beautifully tanned male body on the arm rest of the sofa, his feet sinking into the cushions to either side of Jon. Kingston gazed longingly at the awesome rod rising up toward the ceiling and the set of huge, furry balls hanging below, dripping with man sweat. From his position, and the way Joaquin was perched on the base of his spine, he had an outstanding view of the Mexican's pink ass hole barely hidden in its nest of dark, curlicue hairs. Jon rolled out his hungry tongue and lapped at the silken skin of Joaquin's tasty nut sac. He took one cum-bloated nad into his mouth and liberally feasted on it. When he'd decided he'd given one enough treatment, he released it and drew the other into his gaping maw. He sucked and chewed on those rich gonads which, only moments before, had been prepared to release their precious load. Joaquin had wrapped his fist around his man-meat and was lovingly stroking the full length while the older man slobbered over his goods. Taking his prick by the base, he slapped it against Jon's forehead, signaling that he wanted more than just a nut rinse. Jon had every intention of eventually taking that beauty all the way down his throat but first he had something even more tempting to sample. Husky Julio wasn't exactly taking a siesta at the back door. With his fattie nice and slick from Jon's sloppy blow job, the squat Mexican teased the older man's bud with the huge, sticky helmet. Jon's ass lips pooched out to kiss the would-be ass-splitter, a lewd invitation to come in and sample the goods that awaited within. When the ass-mouth pulsed open once too often, Julio pushed against it. The bigger man's pucker gave easily, allowing Julio to swiftly pack himself deep inside the warm cavern. With a satisfied sigh, Julio paused to savor the tight, sweet fit of the moist male cunt which alternately clenched and unclenched around his buried tool. And then he began the fuck. Continuing to sample Joaquin's abundant goodies, guttural noises erupted from Jon's throat as the fat cock started to pound away inside him. Whereas Joaquin's long, beautiful rod had drilled him nice and deep, Julio's short chubby felt like a thick wrist steadily cramming into his steamy channel. His ass lips gripped the plunging cock tightly, riding the length of the wet fucking shaft as it repeatedly bore in and out of him. Julio was no slow, steady fuck either; he was ramming that lush, hairy hole hard and fast. The fat head stroked Kingston's prostate with each deliberate thrust, causing his own heavy dick to throb mightily below him and threaten to spew its salty seed. With his eye on the target, Jon nudged his way under Joaquin's spit-slickened gonads and thrust out his tongue to meet the wrinkled flesh of his ass hole. He was certain he detected a masculine sigh from the good-looking Mexican as his tongue flicked around the sticky, pungent love bud. The dark hairs surrounding Joaquin's hot hole were soon plastered flat against his dark trench with Jon's wet spit, making the tasty pink pucker all the more accessible. Kingston used the tip of his tongue to probe between the fleshy lips, gradually driving more and more of his taster inside the hot ass. Joaquin reacted like a slippery eel had breached his hole, bucking like a bronco and riding Jon's face with sheer ecstasy. Jon could only imagine what it would be like if he were to slip his dick up that insanely twitching hole! Jon lashed in and out with his tongue, twirled it around inside the spasming hole and greedily ate out the ass of the handsome Mexican. Directly across from him, the carnal delights etched across Joaquin's face served to heighten Julio's already rampant libido. Wearing a fevered scowl he relentlessly fucked Jon's ass, battering away with a powerful, rhythmic pumping. His fat schlong scoured the walls of Kingston's scorching, receptive anus, sending shock waves of manly delight through the both of them. Finally breaking rhythm he withdrew his stiff, throbbing boner until just the plum-sized head remained buried. He groaned with primal pleasure as the older man's ass lips spasmed around his sensitive corona, doing their best to draw him back inside. Shoving his slippery prick right down to the hairy root he unleashed a wave of deep, full-length thrusts inside the clenching hole. Julio rode Jon like an untamed stallion, fearless of being bucked from the muscular steed, enjoying the way Kingston's firm, round buns quivered each time the wide shaft sank its full length into his ravaged fuck hole. Kingston's tongue was doing wonders for his steamy ass hole but Joaquin's big cock was starving for some more attention. Taking a fistful of the man's short, thick hair he regrettably pulled his head up from between his legs and slid down off the arm rest so he was splayed out in front of Kingston. Jon hastily swallowed the magnificent tool right down to its root and gave it some lusty deep throat action. Fully aware of the thick prick boring into him from behind, Jon milked the gorgeous specimen of manhood until forced to come up for air. Planted there between Joaquin's hairy thighs, Kingston lashed his tongue around the chocolate colored corona and lapped up the clear goo oozing from the pouting mouth. Joaquin was breathing more heavily now, his prized ass writhing about on the sofa and his trembling hands running through Jon's hair while the older man orally serviced him. Humming up and down the stupendous shaft Kingston slurped on the full length of tasty meat, feeling it shudder mightily with each wet lick. Jon gave all he had, treating Joaquin's beauty like it was the greatest prick in all the world---which, in fact, it might have been. The handsome Mexican's breathing became increasingly ragged, his masculine sighs even more heated as his nut sac drew up beneath him and a warm, tingling sensation spread throughout his groin. Throwing back his head with a strangled cry Joaquin flooded Jon's mouth with a copious cum gusher. Kingston's adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed load after load of delicious male seed. He sucked on the large prong as Joaquin thrashed about in front of him, his tongue tickling the bundle of nerves just under the head to keep the sexy Mexican's orgasm coming. Joaquin's chest rose and fell with each gut-wrenching blast, his balls pleasurably aching from the unexpected force of their pent-up release. Even after the final surge of creamy semen Jon failed to let up, his sex-hungry mouth continuing to suck out every last bit of jizz from the incredible organ. Short hard jabs from Julio's fattie directly on his prostate proved to be enough to send Kingston over the edge. His big, healthy man meat shot ropes of ball batter all over the cushions of the sofa below him. Jon cared nothing about the hasty clean up he'd have to do to avoid cum stains, he was thoroughly captured in his own private moment of sexual euphoria. Julio kept pounding away with his thick fuck stick, fucking even more cum out of the middle-aged stud. Julio became highly aroused by the spasming ass clutching at his working rod as he fucked Jon through orgasm. His heartbeat thundered in his chest and through every blood engorged vein of his flailing cock. Vaguely aware of the heat which had suddenly overtaken his body or the shortness of his heated breath Julio charged onward, pumping hard inside the hot, twitching tunnel. He speared into the fuck shoot with an almost reckless abandon, seemingly crazed by lust, until he couldn't take any more. With gritted teeth and clenched jaw he emitted a yowl from somewhere deep in his chest and unleashed his first blast of fuck juice into Jon's buttery ass guts. Still he fucked onward, slamming his violently erupting shooter into the hot male pussy and coating it with a sea of salty semen. He grunted, trembling with each thrust, with each surge of leche de pene. Spurt after voluminous spurt of Mexican cum filled Jon's anal cavity, churning inside him as Julio fucked into it with every bit of his diminishing strength. Finally, with a hoarse guttural grunt, the squat Mayan fell atop him thoroughly spent. They remained that way for several minutes, the three lusty men coming down from their sexual high. When Julio eventually pulled his fat dick from Jon's ass it felt to the older man like a part of himself had been taken away. With a final loving lick of Joaquin's deflating, but still gorgeous, cock Kingston came up from between the beautiful Mexican's sinewy thighs and leaned back against the sofa, legs thrust out before him. The two dark skinned Latinos appeared in especially good humor as they casually donned their clothing, chatting in their native tongue and every now and then glancing at him with mischievous smiles playing about their lips. Once fully clothed Julio addressed Kingston. "Joaquin, he say anytime you need help with anyt'ing, he do work for you." Then he added, with a lecherous wink, "I say so, too." Jon smiled from ear to ear and replied, "I'll be sure to do that. In fact, I think I'm going to be needing a lot of help around here. Do you do yard work?" "We do anyt'ing you want. Any'ting." Julio replied with a knowing grin. Rising from the sofa, Kingston searched for his discarded shorts and, finding them, reached inside the back pocket for his wallet. Extracting two crispy one hundred dollar bills, he handed one to Julio and the other to Joaquin. "A bonus," he announced, "for such good work." The two Mexicans were all smiles, pocketing their loot. While Jon dressed, both men thought about the way their day's pay would improve their lives. Tired of living in a one-bedroom ramshackle apartment with six others, Julio would be able to get a room for himself---at least for a short while. Joaquin, on the other hand, now had a nice tidy sum to send back to Mexico to the casa of Maria, the mother of his three-year-old son. It appeared to them that they might indeed have found steady employment with the hot-to-trot white man. Neither was beyond working hard for some nice green American dinero---and if a little ass were offered on the side it only served to make the pot sweeter. Dropping the two off where he'd found them Kingston began the journey back to his new home where much rearranging and unpacking awaited him. With his ass hole feeling marvelously satiated---and his belly warm with cum---he decided life on Mansgrove Lane was definitely going to be even more interesting than he'd originally thought. In fact, he hoped new neighbor Ray was home by the time he returned. He required some extra muscle to help him reassemble the bed frame, after all.