Date: Thu, 11 Feb 2016 10:58:09 -0500
From: Natty <bacteriaburger@gmail.com>
Subject: Meat Lovers

Originally published in the anthology Hired Hands (Bruno Gmunder).

Meat Lovers
by Natty Soltesz

I was hungry but I didn't know what for. My wife had left that morning with
our baby to visit her mother for the weekend. I'd spent most of the morning
laying around, feeling guilty for not going with her. We'd fought about
it. I texted her, she didn't text back. I played some video games. I went
outside, it was a hot summer day. I looked over the wall that enclosed my
yard and saw someone a few yards down, puttering around, a neighbor I
didn't know.

Here was I was, twenty-seven years old, in the house we'd just bought six
months ago and I felt like a bored teenager. I wished I had some pot, which
was weird – I'd smoked only a couple times in college, never since then,
I wanted something, anything. I wanted to be a little bad.

So I ordered a pizza. It was something my wife wouldn't abide by. She had a
moratorium on all junk food in the house. I got anchovies, pepperoni, and
olives, and they said it'd be there in forty-five minutes.

I thought about watching TV. I thought about taking my TV into the back
yard and smashing it with a sledgehammer. I got a beer out of the fridge
and sucked it down in ten minutes. Then I had another.

I was on my third beer when I got the idea to put some music on – the
White Stripes, which was exactly right. I was walking down the hall when I
caught a look at myself in the mirror. It made me stop and set down my
beer. I was wearing a pair of athletic shorts and a t-shirt with the
sleeves cut off. I lifted up the shirt.

I'm hot, was what I was thinking. In fact I sort of looked hotter than I
ever have. My black hair was still thick, my jaw strong. My body had
thickened but even that looked good, my abs nice and defined with a brush
of dark hair over them, hair that became denser as it led into the
waistband of my shorts.

I realized I was getting turned on just from looking at myself. It brought
back memories of being a horny teenager when all I'd have to do was think
about my dick before it would start to get hard. I felt like I hadn't
noticed myself in years. When I jacked off, I'd do it before Angela came to
bed or in the shower, quick and fast, my eyes closed – a duty to be
done. Our sex life was normal, but that was done in the dark, too, and
truthfully things had slacked off considerably since Maggie was born.

I ran my hand up my hairy, muscled chest, then back down my stomach and let
my fingers dip into my waistband. I wanted to see all of me, because I was
pretty sure my cock still looked as good as it had when I was younger, and
I was starting to pull down the waistband when the doorbell rang.

Fuck. I had a full boner and now I had to go answer the door. I took some
deep breaths and tried to will my cock to soften. It didn't go down much so
I tucked it under the waistband and hoped for the best.

What would be the harm in showing off a little, anyway? I thought. I opened
the door and there he stood. The pizza guy.

"Hey," he said, nodding his head at me. I'd ordered a large but because the
minimum for delivery was fifteen bucks I got a two-liter as well, so both
of his hands were full. He was young – twenty-one, if that – with
sandy blond hair that curled out from under his baseball cap. He had blond
stubble on his square chin and little black spacers in his earlobes. He was
in his prime, I suppose, while I was past mine, but you could tell he was
wasting it a little, reveling a little too hard in his youth, probably
getting fucked up most nights on cheap canned beer and dirt weed. Still,
his body was fit and toned under his flour-caked red t-shirt and
sort-of-black, kitchen-filthy pants, his posture easy and available.

"It's fifteen fifty," he said. My cock was still tucked back under my
waistband but it had softened. I casually let it drop and he didn't seem to
notice. I reached for my pocket before I realized I didn't have one.

"Shoot – it's inside." When he shifted on his feet the unglued sole of
his ratty black Converse fell open like a mouth. "Hold on a moment?"

"Actually," he said, leaning just slightly in as if to look past me and
into the house. "Can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure. Absolutely," I said, opening the door wide and stepping
aside. "There's one right down the hall."

"Thanks, man," he said, and stepped past me. He stood there for a moment,
awkwardly holding the pizza and soda until I took it from him. I pointed
the way and he headed down the hall and into the bathroom. He swung the
door behind him but it didn't shut – I was used to this. It bounced back
and stayed half-open. The pizza guy didn't try to close it, which seemed
strange.

I stood there for a moment as the sound of piss burbling into the toilet
came to me, heavy and low. I couldn't remember where my wallet was. Why was
I getting so distracted? It was my horniness, I realized. It had just crept
up on me. There was something about this young guy, something that
registered on a deep part of my brain that I wasn't used to hearing
from. Something sexy...

I was just standing there with the food in my hands. I remembered that my
wallet was on the kitchen counter. I headed down the hall, the sound of the
pizza guy's piss getting a little less robust – he was finishing up. I
intended to go quickly past him, to keep my gaze forward, to keep it
normal.

When I got to the open door, though, I couldn't stop myself. I glanced
inside. I intended it to be just that – glance once then look away –
but what I saw so surprised me that I stopped in my tracks.

He was turned away from me but I could just see the front of him, and he
was shaking off his cock into the toilet. His cock was huge. It hung low
and was beer-can thick. It was sort of impossible to ignore.

He had a hand on the waistband of his underwear, the other hand holding up
his jeans, and he was just tucking it inside his underwear when he looked
up and our eyes met. It was just a moment, a glance, but my anxiety caught
in my throat. I quickly looked away and walked on. The look on his face was
inscrutable at that moment – not a rebuke, but not an invitation,
either. It was too quick to process.

I set down the pizza and soda and got the money out of my wallet. I was
counting it out when he walked into the kitchen. I stole another glance at
his crotch, I think – I wanted to know here he was keeping that thing,
how it fit in there. He did have a sizeable bulge, it even looked a little
swollen, like the root of it was getting larger and making a dome-like tent
in his zipper area. I handed him a twenty and a single. "Here you go," I
said.

He took the money without a word and tucked it into the front right pocket
of his pants. Then he looked at me, a level, serious look that made my
heart quicken. He moved his eyes to my still-open wallet.

"You want anything else?" he said.

I didn't know what to say, even if a part of me knew what he was
suggesting.

"I'll let you see it for that ten," he said, nodding toward my wallet. "But
you can touch it for twenty."

I wanted to see it. Something about this young man's brash confidence, his
cockiness, was intoxicating. I reached in my wallet and took out the
ten. He snatched it out of my hand and made as if to shove it in his front
pocket, but stopped.

"You sure you don't want to touch it?" he said, in an almost accusing way,
like he'd been down this road before and everybody ended up wanting to
touch it. "Cause once I take it out, you can't change your mind." I bit my
lip. "I'll let you look for a minute but if you try to touch it I'll fuck
you up. Better give me that other ten now."

I dipped back into my wallet and pulled out the other ten dollar bill. The
kid's cockeyed grin was somehow obnoxious and sexy at the same time.

He took the other bill and stuffed both into his pants. Then, without
looking up, he began to unbutton them. "You got a minute and a half," he
said. He looked at me. "Got it?"

"Okay," I said, nodding. I was outside my body, I'd entered some other
world, where the roles were switched and I was being held sway by this sexy
little punk of a pizza boy.

"Don't try to kiss it or anything queer like that," he said as he reached
into his underwear. He took hold, lifted, and there it was, hanging like a
fire hose half-engorged and thickening. He let it hang there outside his
pants. He flexed it and it bounced just a little, quavering like a ripple
atop a lake.

I stared in awe and, well, confusion. I was surprised at myself. Of course
I'd always had fantasies about playing with another guy's dick – any guy
who says he hasn't wondered about it is lying, or very out of touch with
their sexuality. I mean, most straight porn is half-pussy, half-schlong
anyway. You have to wonder.

But fantasizing about something and actually doing it are two different
things, of course. I found myself wishing I hadn't paid to touch it after
all, that if I'd kept it just as a look it would be safer somehow. Here was
this ginormous cock held out for me to play with – it was a little
intimidating, I suppose.

And it kept getting more intimidating, engorging and rising as we stood
there in the kitchen, the clock ticking, the refrigerator droning its
anxious hum. "Time's wasting, buddy," he said, and just the way he said
"buddy" had the drip of domination about it. This kid may have been younger
than me but he knew exactly what I wanted and exactly what he'd let me do,
nothing more. "I got two more deliveries after this. Shit's getting cold."

It hung nearly nine inches long and it was so thick that it appeared to be
at full erection even though it wasn't rising up to a ninety-degree
angle. What would it feel like in my hand? It was so big...

I reached out and slipped my fingertips underneath it and along the
underside until it rested in my palm. I felt its weight, its heat. I pulled
my hand forward and felt it drag against my palm. It got harder. I wrapped
my fingers around the plum-like head, round and solid, and gently squeezed
it. His shaft just continued to expand, the core of it girded with a steel
tension rod, spongy tissue, hot and engorged, filling it out, puffy veins
thick as pipes curling around it.

I stroked it, from the tip down to the base. My hand could barely close
around the base. The stroke made him shift on his feet a little. I looked
up at his face, he was looking right at me; some of the cockiness had
dissipated.

"Damn, bro," he said, looking down at me. "You got me so hard." I pulled my
palm back up. It twitched, a little, the head bounced up. "Didn't realize I
was so horny."

I leaned my face into it. I wasn't even aware I was doing it, I just wanted
to get closer to it, its heat, to feel it against my arm, my face, my
lips. Then without realizing it I was getting on my knees, and he backed
away and swiped my hand away from his cock.

"I shoulda figured you'd try that," he said, smirking.

"I won't suck it," I said.

"Better not," he said, and relaxed his stance. I held it again, wrapping my
fist around it this time. My fingers barely closed around it. I jacked it
once, twice.

"Minute's almost up," he said. I tried to smell him without making it
obvious. It was musky, yeasty, like sweat and weed and pizza dough. He
noticed instantly. "Like sniffin my dong?" he said, laughing. "My sweaty
nards?" I sniffed down toward them. It sounds crazy but they smelled even
better. It was a familiar smell, of course, one I sort of appreciated on
myself even if I was aware that it didn't smell "good," particularly. But
smelling him was different.

"Queers, man," he said, laughing. "Alright, I'll let you lick those. Since
you like the smell so much. But just my nuts, nothing else alright?
Alright?"

"Yes," I said. I got down lower. Was I ready for this? I took a good sniff
of his balls, pressing my nose now into his nest of damp sandy-brown
pubes. I took a good whiff and my cock just throbbed. The smell was so
different from a woman, but so familiar to me that it had this disorienting
effect that revved my libido into a vortex. I put out my tongue and licked
up under them, letting the left one roll on my tongue just a bit. I wanted
more of that smell. I wanted it to cover me.

"I'll let you kiss it, then," he said, and now I could tell he was really
turned on, maybe as much as I was. "Just a kiss, though, cause I'm so
fuckin horny."

I let the tip of his cock graze my nose. There was slickness at the tip, in
the slit – not quite a drop, but a stickiness that made the head of his
cock stick to my nose for just a second before it jerked and popped
upward. I put my lips to it, feeling the heat of it on my lips. I put my
lips to it and kissed, just as sweet and soft as could be.

"Nice," he said. "Kiss it again." I gently kissed the head, the slit. I
kept kissing, down the sticky skin of his shaft, smacking my lips against
his hot flesh, loving, worshipful kisses to show him how much I appreciated
his beautiful cock, how unworthy I was to be kissing such a piece, how
grateful. "Fuck yes," he said. When I got to his nuts I kissed them, then
made my way back up, smooch smooch smooch until I was kissing the
head. This time there was a solid drop of precum there.

"If you lick it, it's going to go in your ass," I heard him saying, but my
mind wasn't quite paying attention. I was focused on that drop of precum,
and I put my lips to it so that it smeared into my lips. Smooch. His breath
was getting ragged. I was rock hard in my shorts. "Got that? Lick it if you
want but don't start what you can't finish. I don't go for just blowjobs,
if you get me going and I need to fuck. It's going in your
ass. Understand?" The slit of his cock was wide and fat, almost like a
little cunt, and I never stopped, it just happened – I brought out my
tongue and licked into it, into the tiny pool of his prejizz, the hot slit
of his giant cock. It tasted so good, tasted like me, tasted like a juicy
cock. He let out his breath. "You've done it now," he said as I went in for
another lick, instantly resigned to my fate. He took me by the chin. "You
know what you're in for, right?" he said. All I could do was nod. He put
his cock back in my face. I honestly had never been fucked and had no idea
if I could get fucked, let alone take a piece as massive as his. However,
as soon as I thought that I felt my hole loosen and get hot, like it was
hungry, begging with its mouth open.

I licked up his shaft, licking it fully this time, my tongue flat and wide,
tasting as much as of him as I could, getting every inch of the underside
wet with my spit. It tasted so good, young salty horny flesh.

"Fuck yes," he said, letting out his breath. "You know that you want that
cock inside you, filling up your hot little faggot ass. Don't you?"

It was funny that he called me faggot given that I'd never even touched
another guy's cock up until that moment, but he really sold the whole macho
thing. I took the head of it into my mouth and wrapped my tongue. I wanted
to stuff as much of that piece into my puss as I could. I let the head pass
over my tongue, let it poke into my mouth. My throat muscles relaxed as my
ass muscles relaxed. It wasn't just curiosity about a big cock that had
gotten me to where I was at that moment, it was that what he was saying was
true: I wanted it inside me. My lips stretched around it, my throat felt
like I'd swallowed five hot dogs at the same time, my eyes were watering
and my nose wasn't even touching his pubic hair yet. I had to come up and
get a breath.

"C'mon cocksucker, you can do better than that," he said. I tried again,
starting at the tip and working my mouth and throat down it. My throat felt
like it stretched out a little more this time. Feeling my face get filled
up by that massive schlong was an intoxicating thing. I imagined what it
was like for my wife, imagined I was her, and that's when I moved my hand
down my back and into my shorts so I could feel my hole and press my
fingers into its heat. Yeah, I wanted to be a whore for him. I wanted to be
his fuck hole, to be used.

But wanting is one thing and getting another. When he impatiently pulled
his cock out of my mouth I knew was due for the latter and I got a little
scared.

"Ready to get your guts rammed in?" he said.

"I don't know..." I said, standing and wiping my mouth.

"The fuck you don't," he said, standing there with his pants around his
ankles. He pulled off his shirt, knocking his cap to the floor in the
process, and stood there mostly naked, stroking his cock in front of
him. He had a flat, sexy stomach, the slightest definition of pectorals on
his chest, no hair anywhere but for right above his cock. He took my arm
and spun me around so that I was facing the counter.

"Tell me you've never had a cock up your ass before," he said.

"Never."

"A virgin?" he said, and pushed his hand against my lower back so that my
torso lowered and I had to brace myself against the counter. I heard what
sounded like him wetting his finger in his mouth, then he pressed it to my
ass, fumbling a bit to find my hole. When he found it he shoved his finger
in, just like that. The shock of it made me jerk forward but he didn't seem
to notice or care. He pushed his finger in once, twice. "Fucking A. I love
virgins. Tight as hell." I concentrated on breathing and relaxing and was
surprised to find that it was pretty enjoyable.

"Please go easy on me," I said. He just laughed and took out his finger.

"I'll lube you up, that's about it. Got any slippery stuff? Vaseline?
Crisco?" I went to the cabinet and grabbed the first thing I found – a
bottle of my wife's expensive olive oil. Extra virgin.

"Alright," he said as I handed to him. He threw the cap on the floor,
poured some on his cock and smoothed it in, then brought two oily fingers
to my hole and shoved them in just as unceremoniously as he'd slid in the
first one. I might have gasped a little but, again, after I got over the
shock of the invasion it felt good. Even better than just one.

"Fuck I need to cum," he said, and took out his fingers. He pressed the
head of his cock against my ass and I took a deep breath and did my best to
prepare myself. He pushed down on my back again so that my ass would be
more perfectly perched up for him. I think that was the best part of it for
me, the way he seemed fully focused on his own pleasure and willing to use
me for it, like I was just a tight place to deposit his seed, something a
little better than his hand but not worth much else.

When the head of his massive schlong popped inside I nearly cried out, but
I think I was too shocked to do that. Then I was just trying to catch my
breath because he was not giving me any time to adjust, he just kept
pushing it in at a steady clip, inch by inch, groaning as if savoring the
tightness of my tight virgin asshole.

"Goddamn that's good," he said and he bottomed out, his pubes and nuts
pushed against me. My face was covered in sweat and I felt like I had a
torpedo lodged in my guts. When he pulled out and shoved it back in I found
it intensely pleasurable, not just because I was making good use of myself
as a sheath for his cock but because he was tripping a switch in me –
the prostate, I suppose.

"Take that cock you fucking slut," he said, grabbing onto my hips and
banging me from behind, steady quick thrusts that made his nuts slap
against me, the sound of skin hitting skin and our moans echoing in the
quiet of the kitchen. I wondered if this was how my wife would like to get
fucked. I tended to treat girls delicately, focused on their pleasure, on
getting them off. I'd never been like this.

Mostly I was holding on for dear life, so it was a surprise when I reached
down to feel my cock and realized I was mostly hard. In fact I'd dripped so
much that there was a little trail of precum from where my cock was riding
against the side of the counter. I held on to my cock and stroked while he
banged me, his thrusts getting wilder and rougher, slamming his pelvis so
hard against me that it hurt.

"Fuck I'm gonna shoot in you soon. Ready to take my load?"

"Uh huh," I said. I felt like I was getting ready to cum myself, one hand
pressed into the granite counter top searching for purchase as he battered
against me, my other hand stroking my cock.

"Ready to get bred? You fucking slut. Take it. Oh fuck!" With a single
mighty thrust he slammed his hole cock into my hole, his drawn-up nuts
pulsing as he emptied them inside me. Shot after shot of his load flooded
my guts.

I came at the same time, my load splattering against the counter. It was
one of the best orgasms I ever had.

He pulled out.

"Fuck, I'm late," he said, pulling up his pants. I looked back to see his
cock, now reduced in size, dripping and slick. I pulled up my shorts. What
the hell had just happened? "Guess you got your money's worth."

"Thank you," I said. He just smirked then turned and went out the door. I
felt his load dripping out of my hole and down my thighs. I opened the box,
the pizza was still warm. I grabbed a slice and took a big bite, and when I
needed a drink I chugged the soda right from the bottle.

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