Twist My Arm

By Mike Austin

Published on Apr 7, 2020

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TWIST MY ARM by Mike Austin

nasstop@yahoo.com

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I'd talked with Bob Carrens a few times, had some deep slow suckfests on his fine dickmeat and wanted more. I know sometimes Feeders tire of the same eater-action and need variety, especially if the head is only so-so. I'm proud to be a good deep-throater, never got any neg feedback, so I knew that wasn't the problem; when after a few more weeks, Bob seemed to be a bit "busy", more often than not.

I also knew I had some legit need for his service for the boys, since I was goin down to Corpus for a weeklong job and would need the dogs cared for. By this time, the boys and Bob were good friends and I trusted Bob, so it would be his call, make the drive over to my place daily to feed, water and play with the boys or bring them to his place. Either way, I was good. He decided to have me bring them to him the Saturday before I headed out for Corpus.

I'd met a Craigslist married guy down in Portland, just across Corpus Christi Bay, but he only had Saturday night free, so I made the decision to drop off the dogs at Bob's Saturday morning and high tail it down to Corpus, get my room and get some married dick. The South Texas dad was 6', 200#, black hair, blue eyes and furred up front and back. He worked maintenance on the USS Lexington, moored there as a tourist venue. I was damn near salivating when he sent me a cam pic of his sweaty bod gettin outta his work clothes Friday afternoon. DAMN, I was already tastin his sweat and crotch.......Back to the dogs and Bob though. Suffice it to say I was boned, my tight chest and hard nips gave me away when I got outta my truck and walked around to the tailgate. The service truck parked in front of Bob's place was a handyman service; the bi-line on the side "I get any job done right" got my attention. Knocking on the door got no response. I glanced in the garage door windows, Bob's truck was gone. The dogs started light barking and tugged to my right. I walked around the side of the garage yard, thugged the gate latch open and found Jess Hawkins, the Handyman, resting on his shovel. "You must be Mark? Bob had to run an errand. He said you were dropping off your hounds before heading out of town. He also said you were 'friendly'."

As Jess grabbed his zipper, tugged it down, and dropped his butch meat out, my knees actually quivered. I released the dogs to the back yard. Stepped forward, closed the gate behind me, kneeled down, looked up into the sunshine that now blanked Jess' face and lapped the dickhead slowly, almost reverently. His grimy hands found the back of my head and he pulled me in close, filling my mouth with his thickening shaft. His scent, his yardwork smell of earth, his taste, all swirled in my senses and I was lost in the headjob. The grip of his raw, rough hands on the side of my head grew like a vice. His thighs and glutes pumped harder and faster. His dick found my throat hole and he shoved deep as he pulled my face in hard, stuffing my throat just as his wads of rich BullMilk fired down my throat. I gulped until he shivered and pulled my head off his crotch. Looking up, the sun still blanked out his face, but knew there was a "Yeah-grin" there.

I still had a long drive ahead of me but had a good load of breakfast cum to make it on. We shook hands, exchanged numbers, gave the dogs goodbye hugs and I climbed into my truck and headed south... Scratching my throbber, I knew I'd need lots of opportunity to "get any job done" for Jess.

  1. Well after leavin Bob's with a belly fully of Jess's sperm, my drive down to Victoria and then on down to Refugio, was uneventful. I passed up several of my favorite BBQ stops on the way, but I had serious meat waitin and I didn't wanna delay that Feeder. The drive was pretty quick, then got to Refugio and had to take a wicked piss, so pulled into the DQ, beat a trail to the head, emptied, scratched, adjusted and went back to the counter. A pink n purple-haired twink Goth-type chick took my order, returned with my med Coke and I was back in my truck headin down the road. Maybe it was the road noise and thunder, maybe it was Jess' swimmers, but I was damned horned up again! I crotch-grabbed for about 20 miles, then when I was so crazed and edged to the max, I pulled over, got out, stretched, bent around, got back in the truck, and was back on my way.

No sooner than a flash I was making the bend off US77 onto I-37 and down to Corpus. I exited Leopard, signed in at my room and called my married bud. His name is Beau Thibodeaux and he's been married 15 years to his hs sweetheart. He's worked oilrigs and now at the USS LEXINGTON for the last 4 years. He asked where I was stayin, I told him and he said he'd see me in 30 mins. His closing remarks stirred me, but when he asked, "Are you hungry boy"? I went weak...............

He called me about 20 mins later. His voice commanding, "Strip down" was all he said. I damn near destroyed my clothes.

The double knock on the door said The Man was here. That close crop haircut and face fur, bowed upper torso and chest fur, was just what this boy needed. He stepped in, smiled, nodded as he eyed me over. Told me to turn around. I performed like a show-dog. His rough hairy hands gripped my shoulders as he shoved me down. His right hand under my jaw, tilted my face up as he asked again, "Are you hungry boy"? I blinked and mouthed "YESSIR", he tapped my head and shoved his jeaned crotch forward.

I rubbed my face eagerly across his jeans. The crotch responded by swelling and heating up the bulge it concealed. His scent was making me so horny, I was salivating for the thick tube and balls I'd seen on the cam shot earlier. In no time, I chugged the belt open, unzipped and hauled out the fine thick hot sweaty dicktube and hairy bag. His thick pubes bristled free and the sweaty musk filled my nose and the room. I looked up, extended my tongue then licked the heavy, hairy sack slowly; running the end of my tongue around each swollen testicle, then up and down the seam. I glanced up, his eyes were closed as his hands found the side of my face, my ears, his beefy fingers pulling my ears, guiding my work and focus. As he pulled my mouth from his balls, the rough hands guided me to his hot swollen Feeder Dick. I opened wide, swallowed down and the hands gripped the back of my head and his legs and glutes started the face fuck that would follow. His mouth and throat assault was awesome. He fed me deep, then shallow, slow then fast, the facefuck lasted about 1/2 and hour before again the question came, "Are you hungry boy"? But this time I couldn't reply. He kept up his face fuck rhythm, asked the question again and followed it with "Answer me". I tried to pull off and answer but the massive fingers had my head locked in place. "So answer me", he ground out between clenched teeth, tension building in his voice. I tried to speak but the thick meat was too much to get an answer out. One more try and I garbled and gurgled the answer, "Yeah that's the way to answer" was the response. "I wanna hear and FEEL your reply". I knew then that I was learning to speak all over. I kept answering and answering and answering til the question had no more purpose..........................

Beau left after about 1.5 hours. My throat and mouth had been reshaped. My gut was a mixmaster of his and Jess' sperm. My face smelled of Beau, I tasted of him, my head was swollen and my hard, smooth chest was coated in sweat. I can still recall him telling me to "use your finger and point to my dickhead in your throat"...............I slept for an hour, got up, headed out to Whataburger for some chow, then decided to cruise the seawall and the T-Heads for trade..........More to follow

  1. The work hours were long, hard, hot and seemed that each night when I got into the motel room, it was all I could do to strip down, hit the hot shower and crash for an hour or so. I can tell you more than once, I woke up after one of these after-work "zone outs" with my dick in my fist and no cum to be found. It's pretty damned bad when you are so tired, you stop jackin in mid-stroke!

I was determined to kick up some stud dick, no matter what. I'd found a fine cruise spot, at the marina near downtown. Where it was a roadway in a residential area that skirted along the Corpus Bay it was called Ocean Drive, while in the business district it fronted along the T-Heads (the marina) and the hustlers in Corpus, cruised from there down to the Museum and under the Portland Bridge called Shoreline Dr.

It was a Friday night about 10:30. My balls ached and my guts needed sperm! I flicked off the TV, shrugged on a t-shirt and jeans and walked barefoot to my truck. The cold a/c hit my hard nips and they pronged out like erasers (hate that description but it works). My dick throb already at the prospect of a stud feeding me. I backed out, headed down Leopard to downtown and then onto Ocean Drive, cruised the great homes and watched the lights dance across Corpus Bay. It must be Touch n Go time at Corpus Christi Naval Air Station (NAS) as jets were skimming then would drop out of sight down at NAS then fire up as they touched then jammed it skyward.

I cruised slowly up, then down and turned around. The marina sailboats bobbed masts even in their protected breakwater. The wind was picking up. The energy was building. I saw the cap first, he turned, then ducked down toward the Museum sidewalk area that led behind a row of low palms. I turned into the side parking lot, the clear view of the backside of the row of palms was shadowy, but he was there. He pulled off his baseball cap, wiped his forehead, then replaced the cap. The left hand dropped to his crotch as he stepped into the light pool from the parking lot standard. He was about 6'2" and maybe 170 or so pounds, t-shirt, jeans and that left hand directing my attention; calling me, reeling me in. I drove forward stopped just outside the pool of light and he stepped up beside my truck. As I lowered the driver's window, I could see a stud in mid to late twenties, lean and wiry and still working his crotch with that left hand. He grinned as he looked first into my face and then trailed his gaze down to his crotch, before returning once again to my eyes. I tongue-swiped my lips, nodded and unlocked the passenger door. He walked round, as soon as the interior light set the truck cab bright and could see more of his features, I knew I would pay any amount he wanted. Some acne scars were not kind, but his eyes were deep green, his hair shagged out from under the sides and back of his baseball cap; his fingers and hands were of a laborer and his voice was pure South TEXAS STUD......Maybe he'd grown up ranchin or riding but he was no city boy.

His right hand reached out and as we shook he offered, "Name's Tom", "I'm Mark", we shook, he gripped my hand hard. As the shake ended, he slipped his hand under the bottom of his T, scracthed his ab, tugged the T up some and showed the fuzzy trail that disappeared in his jeans. He asked if I was from Corpus, I told him why I was there and where I was stayin. He said he'd been there about 6 months, work was slow since the BP well event, but he was makin it "'cept when it gets close to rent day". Again the T shirt tugged up and the ab-scratch drew my focus. I asked if he wanted coffee or chow, he declined. He asked what I was out lookin for and I reached for the crotch now prominently spread wide and framed by his long legs. The thick dicktube was already obvious. I swallowed and for the first time, realized my mouth was totally dry and gulped again. Right then he offered, "I'm about $50 short on rent". "Gotcha covered bud" I uttered as we left the parking lot and headed for an ATM. We both agreed no a/c and the wind whipped through the truck. His sweat filled my cab and senses. I withdrew $100 and returned to the truck. Tom's only remark, "Let's kick it bud" and we headed back to the motel.

As we stepped into the room, he asked if he could grab a quick shower? I told him he didn't need to on my account. He said he'd feel better about it and I didn't press matters. The process of kickin off his boots, socks and shedding the T shirt, jeans and St. Christopher's medal chain, seemed almost a ritual for Tom. He was precise as he went through the stages and strode into the head, followed by the roar of the shower, slide of the curtain and "Oh Yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh". Barefooted myself, I ran my feet across the carpet in anticipation, tugged off my jeans and Tshirt, then pulled the jeans back on. "He might not like me stripped" I thought to myself. The shower ended, "damn fine shower", came the remark, he stepped in front of the vanity area staring into the broad mirror, his back led to a firm hard, squared off butt, the dark fuzz in his crack made me eager and the sight in the mirror of that fuzzy trail leading to a thick set of pubes and the very top edge of the dickbase, made me gulp out loud. I could hear myself swallow. `Was I crazy or just that horny' I can remember asking myself? Tom turned, finishing the dry off and walked toward me.

"So Mark", again the left hand dropped to his now-naked crotch, cupped under his low warm soft hairy bag and thick firming dickmeat, "what's got your eye tonight?" I reached forward cupped my hand under his heavy warm moist sack and replied "well Tom, these to start off". His right hand moved to my shoulder as I slid off the edge of the mattress onto the floor. His left hand topped my head as I lifted the heavy damp sack to my mouth and lapped slowly around each heavy ball, behind the bag and then as he guided my face up to his dickbase, into the thick mass of pubes. "Hisssssssssssssssssssssssss" was all I heard from Tom then "Yehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh that's it, suck em slow". I was In The Zone. The rest of the room stopped, the sound of the a/c unit ceased, the parking lot noises and traffic outside were non-existant. The only sound was the deep slow suction of my mouth on Tom's heavy warm hairy balls. The thick dicktube lay across my face or at times on top of my head. I loved the feel of it's mass and heat. As his hands reached for my ears and he tugged my face up to the dickhead, I glanced up, he guided my mouth to the head and then released my ears. I sucked down slowly, savoring the hot thickness that filled my mouth and as I sucked my natural urge to speed up kicked in. "Not so fast bro", came Tom's remark, then "No rush here,Morros Saturday, no work" he added. "Jus go slow n make it last", oh holy fuck this was better than I ever hoped for. That made up my mind right then, he was gettin all $100 and if to read my mind, Tom said, "Ya know if you got no plans, I can spend the night"? I WAS SUNK!!!

The thick dickhead swelled, was blunt, had a deep crease from the ridge to the slit. The long curve rose from the dense pubes like a power tower. "Ya know Mark, if you flipped over, the edge, we could............." before he could finish I was off his dick, on my back, head hanging off the edge looking up, mouth wide open and reachin for the fine cowboy ass behind him to pull him in close. Tom stepped forward, aimed his dick downward into my gaping mouth. The hardness bent down against it's natural curve but fit smoothly into and down my throat. He shifted forward more as he fed the dick slowly down deep. He said he liked to hear guys "want it". He stopped then directed me "say need more" I tried to pull his dick out to speak, he said, "Naw man, with it in your throat". Oh damn this was kickin my ass GOOD............I garbled out "need more", "Yeah" was what I got back. "Now say need sperm", I learn fast and mouthed as best as possible, "need sperm"; "that's it buddy" I got back. This speak and deepthroat action went on for hours it seemed before the real throat fucking began. My jaws ached but my throat-hunger was being sated FINALLY! Tom rocked back and forth and plunged deep. At one point he directed me to point on my throat where his dickhead was lodged. When I pointed it out, he gripped my throat, squeezed and said "right there?" in somewhat disbelief. I gurgled affirmative. Again the response was "yeahhhh"! This continued until I heard his "ready to eat cum?" question, I mumbled "uh huh" and felt the thick dickmeat fire deep down my throathole. "Drink my swimmers bud", he only remark, as he trailed off, "Yeah drink em down"...............................

The night moved on, pizza got ordered, he ate, I ate him, his feedings continued almost all night long it seemed. When the morning came, I somehow thought it was a dream. When I rolled over to face the windows, there sat Tom, legs spread wide, hardon displayed my way, asking "are you hungry"? I guess you know my answer guys............?

  1. At last, I was on my way back home. I knew the boys would be happy to see me, their tails would say it all.

Before checking out, Tom had pumped another load in my guts for the trip home "On me" as he said. He stood in his trailer door, gave me a wave, turned and disappeared inside, then I turned my truck to I-37. The ride and road roar made me horny as hell. There's one rest/picnic stop on US77 North but there's a WATCH FOR SNAKES SIGN posted at each entry and if there's one thing this TEXAS boy hates, IT'S SNAKES!!! I decided to bypass that stop though I stirred when I flew past the "Freightliner" pulled in there and maybe the trucker needed some service, but........

I called Bob Carrens and left a VM. He called back in about 15 minutes and said he was just heading out and was in the shower when I'd called. We set up a time to meet so I could get the dogs and head home. I would stop for BBQ, get Bob some and the dogs some beef ribs and that'd make everyone happy! The drive blurred as US77 met US59 south of Victoria. I'd decided to pass on the DQ stop in Refugio. I just wanted to get home. About 30 minutes out the cell rang, it was Bob. He asked if I'd mind waiting at his place for the phone guy if he wasn't back from his errands as he'd been having landline problems all week long. I agreed, told him about the BBQ and he thanked me.

When I arrived, there was a note on the front door. I thought oh fuck I was too late for the Tel guy; but the note was from Bob to him telling him that I was on my way there, gave him my cell and told the guy in the note that I had a key (I didn't but knew where it was kept). Now I had to piss like a racehorse. I raced inside, hauled out and let my stream fly. I almost didn't hear the knock, but did hear the doorbell. I hurried out zipping up and made a grab for the front doorknob. Hand-extended, Dell Baldwin announced, "I'm the telephone repairman, here for Mr. Carrens' repair order". My heart pounded!

Dell Baldwin was thick, butch and very HOT. Hard work and a hot day had made his uniform shirt pasty wet with his sweat and the breeze blowing into the doorway swirled his musk all over my face. He said he needed to get into the yard but also needed his ladder and to meet him at the gate. I headed through the garage out the side door and unlocked the gate as he carried the fiberglass ladder above his head. The uniform short dragged open as he lowered the ladder, reached into his tool belt and hooked a line tester to the connection box. I stood watching then stammered, "How bout a cold water"?, "Thanks" came the reply "I could use some". I disappeared then returned with a huge plastic mug of ice and sloshy water. Dell's hands were scarred and furry knuckles made me eager to see more. His chest was not too furry but his arms were. I wondered where else fur was hiding? He staged the ladder, climbed up, checked the connections at the top of the line box then on up to the roof. "Damn" as he climbed back down. "Everything is good here, looks like it's at the pole", I presumed he meant the problem was at the pole. The pole I was focused on hung low down his left leg; it swelled as he climbed up and down; "Must be wearin boxers" I conjectured? The center back of his shirt was now soaked, I disappeared again inside, returning with a wet, chilled hand towel. Dell thanked me, wiped his face, neck and arms then layed the towel on the ladder. He turned to head for his truck and as soon as he'd gone past the gate, I grabbed the towel, shoved it to my face and inhaled!!!!! THROAT CLEARING interrupted my sensation, I froze, Dell was standing back in the gate staring at me. A snarl appeared, head shaking a little, his head looked down at his crotch then back at my face. "Uh I came back for my keys on my toolbelt", he growled low; "Didn't know I had a fag around". I stood my ground, "Look bud, you're here to fix Bob's phone, let's just leave it at that; I'll head inside, when you're done, let me know, I'll sign any paper and you can head your way", "sorry if I offended you, I meant no harm", I wasn't sure how he'd react. His gum-chewing slowed down, shook his head, unsnapped the keys from his toolbelt, turned and went back to his truck then returned with pole climbers on.

"You here alone", he asked? I nodded, "Dell look man, I want to just forget this happened if that's good"? "Well see my ol lady and me been split for about two weeks and well I got a mega case of blue balls, if you really wanted it", Dell came in close saying. His sweat whipped me back into lust. I dropped down in front, tugged his belt open, unzipped hauled out this thick furry uncut dick and slobbered it slowly. The hood slid easily and my tongue docked slowly against the throbbing head. Dell just leaned back against the side of the garage, looking down as I deep throated his lineman dick to his hair. In no time, his firm hands gripped the back of my head and he was skull-fucking me hard. "Go for it bud" he kept saying until he stood forward, grabbed the top of my head pushed straight down then into his crotch and his meat flooded thick ropes down into my guts. "Oh fuck yes" he growled over and over as he leaned back to the wall. I buried my face more into his sweaty pubes, inhaling his scent, and cum, his sweat and masculinity. I shook my head side to side like a shark tearing into prey; his dick slid back into my throat again giving me the end of his cumload. "Yeah buddy" Dell offered, "damn fine head job". I stood, he zipped up, climbed Bob's pole and made the repairs.

Dell's coming to check out my line tonight after his calls are done. I hope Bob found the bag of BBQ in his fridge when he got home.

.....The End of Twist My Arm.....

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