by Neil Plakcy
Would Paco come back? Tyler went to school, then to golf team practice. He didn’t return to the waterfront house until dark was falling. All evening he could not focus on his homework, waiting to hear the telltale sound of Paco’s board hitting the pavement.
He was startled, just before ten, by a knock at the front door. He worried it would be Mr. Sbroggio from next door. What if the old fart had seen Paco go inside and was there to complain?
But instead it was Paco at the door, his board tipped up against him, a wry smile on his face. “Last night, I enter through the back door,” he said. “Tonight I come through the front.”
Tyler’s ass clenched at the memory of Paco’s assault at his own back door the night before, and yet he felt ready for another try. “Come on in,” he said.
BOARD AND BLADE FUCK BATTLE
Jay Starre
Cory loved Rollerblading. The spring was best, when the air was fresh and the sun wasn’t quite yet beating down on you with all the ferocity of summer. The seawall around the park was perfect for a good blade with its well-maintained pavement and a separate path for pedestrians to keep the slowpokes out of the way.
But one thing really annoyed him. It was the skateboarders. They never followed any of the rules. Never.
“What the fuck?” he yelped as a flying body nearly collided with him.
Cory veered out of the way just in time. Braking and spinning expertly, he halted facing the opposite direction and the laughing skateboarder who’d just about creamed him.
“Are you insane?” he spit out.
“Sorry, dude,” was all the boarder said as he collected his board and climbed back on.
Cory realized what the punk had attempted. He’d come barreling toward a park bench beside the path and tried to leap over it to meet his skateboard on the other side. He hadn’t. Instead he’d just missed Cory as he careened through the air to land on his feet in a crouch.
Cory might have been impressed at the audacity of the attempted trick. But he wasn’t. He was disgusted. “You’re an idiot. Can’t you find a skateboard park to play in?”
They faced each other: Cory medium height, blond and solid muscle; the boarder tall, auburn haired and lean.
“Chill out, dude. It’s a sweet day. Let’s play nice.”
The smile that seemed more like a smirk only added to Cory’s irritation. He wanted to smack the skinny punk’s face but knew that was stupid. His bright blue eyes flicked up and down the boarder’s body, taking in the smooth chest and supple belly, the lean thighs and strong calves, the baggy shorts and the multicolored but broken-down board shoes, a string of white shells around the lean neck, a green kerchief holding back the mop of curly auburn hair, the tanned face and smoky green eyes, and of course the white-toothed smirk.
The kid was a punk, not worth his time. The look on his face must have revealed his disgust, because that smirk became a laugh as the punk put one tanned hand on his own crotch and squeezed.
“Suck this, you stuck-up dick-wad!”
With that, the punk leapt on his board and blew past him, almost knocking him over.
Cory’s fury at first compelled him to follow, thoughts of catching up and walloping the asshole in the forefront. But that would have been too easy. There was no way the skateboarder could match the powerful Rollerblader in speed. And Cory was all power. His giant thighs, pumped from his efforts in the gym, his Rollerblading and cycling, propelled him down the path like a speeding freight train.
The lean boarder was no slacker, though, and maintained a good clip ahead of him. It might have been a respectable race if the punk wasn’t more interested in leaping and bounding and executing tricks.
“What an asshole,” Cory muttered out loud as he watched the shirtless boarder veer in and out of the dismayed traffic of cyclists, Rollerbladers and pedestrians.
He followed, still angry but growing fascinated as he observed his racing prey from behind. The boarder had a tattoo on his lower back. No surprise, that. But it was interesting: a pair of wings, crimson and emerald, spread wide on either side of his lower spine. In the center, rather than some kind of bird’s head as you’d expect, an arrow drawn in a blend of the red and green of the wings pointed downward, right into the crack of the punk’s ass.
Baggy shorts hung low off his waist around his hips. The upper swell of his asscheeks and the first few inches of his crack showed, while that arrow continued south to disappear under the shorts.
The meaning behind that tattoo seemed all too obvious.
“I’m gonna tag your ass, punk. That’s right. I’m gonna bend you over your own board, yank down those shorts and fuck your punk butt till you shoot a big load all over it,” he muttered out loud, blue eyes gleaming with a renewed purpose.
Cory couldn’t deny the boarder was good. A flicker of respect was all but drowned in continued disgust at the sheer bad manners of the board jock. Even little old ladies out for an afternoon stroll were forced to yield to his wild antics as they emitted wide-eyed shrieks of dismay.
It was almost funny. What wasn’t funny was the hard-on in Cory’s shorts. The nylon tented where his mammoth dick reared, and he planned on getting some satisfaction when he finally caught up with the punk. Cory was a good-looking blond with a killer body, so he was pretty sure the boarder would want a piece of his fat pipe. Especially with that tattooed arrow aiming right for the punk’s crack—and toward the sweaty hole!
All during the chase, the boarder never looked back. He probably didn’t give a fuck about the disasters he left in his wake.
They left the seawall path and entered the city streets. Palm trees were replaced by flashing traffic lights. Naturally the punk had no respect for them, and Cory just about lost sight of him as he was forced to wait for a light the boarder blasted through. The part of town they entered was at best seedy. Soon it became downright dangerous as he was led from run-down commercial streets into litter-lined back alleys.
What led him on and on were continued glimpses of those perky asscheeks, just showing above the baggy shorts. He had to get his hands on that butt!
The chase ended abruptly. Dodging alley detritus, Cory was momentarily distracted. He looked up to see his prey no longer fleeing, but coming right at him. The collision might have ended in disaster if they weren’t both so skilled in their respective sports.
Cory grunted at the unexpected slam of the boarder’s shirtless body into his, while the boarder howled with laughter. Arms wrapped around him as they careened in a spin before coming to a dizzying halt sandwiched between two overflowing garbage bins.
“You really are insane,” Cory hissed in the boarder’s leering face.
Winking and still laughing, the punk thrust his hand down between them to seize the swollen bulge in Cory’s nylon shorts. “I see you got something for me. Well, come on then. Show me what you’re made of!”
The fingers gripping his stiff dick squeezed and then pumped. Adrenaline coursed through his stocky frame, fright and fury transforming into intense lust. “Right here? You want me to fuck your punk ass right now?”
It wasn’t what he’d planned, although where and when had been vague notions during the just-ended chase. But in an alley in broad daylight? It was crazy!
Smoky green eyes bored into his. The hand on his cock pumped. Both wore only shorts, their bare flesh hot and sweaty where it met. They’d ended up with the boarder pressed against the wall between the bins, the blader leaning into him, hands on his shoulders. Their bare thighs and calves were intertwined.
“I dare you. Fuck my ass right now.”
It was the final battle, Cory assumed. If he backed down, the punk won.
The face he stared into was nut brown from hours in the sun. The features were almost petite, seeming even smaller with that curly crown of auburn hair barely restrained by the green kerchief. The smoky green eyes were mesmerizing. The bright smile was daring rather than friendly.
Cory’s own face was broad and bold in c
omparison. His eyebrows were also blond, and the small blond patch of facial hair under his plump lower lip and a peachy pink complexion were punctuated by a pair of opalescent blue eyes that were unswerving in their directness.
It was a stare down.
Cory took the dare. “Sure. Turn around and pull down your pants, punk.”
The punk’s bright grin widened as he released Cory’s cock and squirmed around to face the wall. “My name’s Trick, asshole.”
Cory rolled his blue eyes at that. What a stupid name! “My name’s Cory, and you’re about to be the asshole.”
He released his grip on Trick’s shoulders to drop them to his waist. There, the upper swell of taut buttcheeks beckoned, just like they had all along the wild chase that had finally brought them here.
He hooked his thumbs in the shorts and yanked down. Slim hips offered little resistance. No underwear! And there it was, bare and smooth, honey brown flesh a few shades lighter than the tanned back and thighs.
Cory dared a glance around, but with the large steel bins crowding them on either side, there was nothing much to see. At least no one could see them either, unless he walked right by. Did Cory dare?
“Come on, dick-wad. Is that big cock all for show? Or can you fuck with it?”
The tight can wriggled in his hands. Trick spread his feet apart, expertly kicking his board in place to step up on it. He rolled gently sideways just enough to sway his compact butt back and forth.
The blond blader finally grinned himself. The fucking tease was about to get what he wanted—and deserved! He grabbed hold of the front of his own shorts and yanked down. Out came his dick, a giant pipe with a blunt knob at the end. He thrust up against those perky cheeks with it, aiming the knob at the crack where the red and green arrow plummeted downward.
He stared at that ass. The bright wings of Trick’s tattoo flared on either side just above the swell of the firm globes. The arrow between them dove south until it found the hole. There, it divided and blossomed into a kind of flaming maw.
Cory gasped. The pink hole was surrounded by that colorful blossom. It was the hottest, nastiest thing he’d ever seen! He stared at it as his hands opened the crack farther. The blossom moved, spreading with the flesh. The hole pouted pink in its center.
He thrust between the warm globes. Sweaty and slippery, the heated flesh surrounded his probing cockhead. He let out a groan and bit his lip.
“I got a real tight hole. If you want a smooth ride, why don’t you lube it up? I got some suntan lotion in my shorts. And suit up while you’re at it.”
The blond was just then feeling that tight entrance with the head of his cock. The pulsing slot clamped shut like a vise, at least for the moment.
He bent down, one hand on that compact butt to steady himself, the other reaching for the bunched shorts at Trick’s ankles. Trick’s board slid back and forth sideways in a steady rhythm, even with his feet trapped in his own shorts.
Cory found the tube of lotion and a condom in a worn packet. He rose up and crammed his cock into the sleeve, then back into that deep crack as he flipped open the lotion and upended it. A stream of white goo spurted out to drench the butt valley.
He sprayed his latex-covered cock with the lotion, then took those warm mounds in both hands and spread them apart, aiming his slippery cock once more.
Cory rubbed the suntan cream in with his cockhead, smearing it all over the bright blossom with its puckered center. He held on to the swaying ass to steady himself, his blades spread wide apart and braced against the heavy metal of the bins on either side.
“Nice. Think you can bust that tight hole open? What you waiting for, dick-wad?”
The sneered challenge was followed by a slight push backward as Trick shoved a little away from the wall and raised both arms to place his hands on either bin beside them. Now he balanced on his board, shorts still around his ankles, arms wide and hands gripping the two bins as he swayed side to side in that same steady rhythm.
The movement wasn’t enough to escape the big pipe buried in his crack, but did add a slippery side-to-side rub to the cockhead there. Cory steadied himself with his hands on Trick’s swaying ass and slowly pumped his greasy dick up and down the smooth divide.
He stared at the tattoo as it blossomed open. The puckered asslips still looked snug but pushed outward with a nasty greed that had him groaning. He planted his cockhead dead center.
“Here it comes, and it’s fucking huge. I hope you can take it, punk!”
“Promises, promises. Come on! Give it to me!”
Cory was trying. His cockhead really was huge. It flared out on either side like a really big helmet. He stared down at that pucker surrounded by crimson and emerald tattoo and pushed against the tight lips.
Resistance met his efforts. Trick’s fluttering sphincter clamped instead of parted. The punk was doing it on purpose! So, the battle wasn’t over—it was just starting!
The lotion squished around his cockhead. There was plenty of lube. He’d just have to push harder. One good thing was that unlike some big cocks his got really hard when he was excited, like right now.
He gripped the compact globes in both hands and held on, thrusting with his hips. His cockhead remained planted firmly on the rhythmically moving target. There was no escaping for that tattooed hole.
He felt the clamping sphincter yielding, but barely. He kept on pushing. He gasped as the heated ring of muscle gave way and his knob burrowed inward. His cockhead was entirely surrounded by quivering, hot butthole!
“Fuck yeah! Unnnnnhhhhh…you’re in there. Now fuck my ass, jerk-wad!”
The vise surrounding his knob suddenly yawned outward, the tattoo surrounding it blossoming. He’d been pushing against the resistance, and now he found himself driving deep, sucked into the hot vortex of convulsing boarder-slot.
That hole went into wild spasms around his knob and half his shank. He felt weak in the knees as Trick massaged his big meat with fluttering buttlips and gulping sphincter. It was like having his cock buried in a volcano.
His shaft got even bigger toward the base, a lot bigger. With only half of it inside that convulsing hole, Cory felt as if he still held some of the cards. Could the punk take it all?
He tested the waters, pumping in a little deeper.
“Yeah! Come on! Open me up with that big fucking pipe!”
The blond blader stared down at the boarder’s butt. The compact cheeks tensed. He held the crack wide open, and that bright tattooed arrow sliced downward to end in that colorful blossom surrounding the heated maw his fat cock was half-buried in. The tattoo strained around that fuck-pole, stretching, then tightening with every little push and withdrawal Cory offered.
It was totally fascinating to watch and an all-consuming pleasure for his pulsing cock trapped within that seething asshole. He tore his eyes from the juncture of hole and cock to check out the punk’s face.
The tough little fucker was still grinning! Meanwhile, his spread arms mimicked the spread wings of the tattoo on his lower back. He was wide open in that position, and Cory decided to take advantage of it. He reached around the lean back and found the taut chest, hairless and slippery with sweat just like the compact butt. The nipples were right there. The blond blader seized them between thumb and forefinger and tugged.
“Fuck, yeah! Yank on those nipples. Let me know you’re there!”
With that giant dick shoved halfway up his tight hole, he had to know Cory was there!
The blond grunted, sweat dripping from his broad forehead down into his eyes. This fuck was work. Still, that hole felt amazing around his cock as he began to pump in and out a little faster, probing deeper with every thrust. It yielded to allow him in, then blossomed outward to expel him, then swallowed with little gulps that had him gasping.
He yanked on Trick’s nipples. He drove forward with his powerful hips, cramming another inch of fat shank into the pulsing hole.
“Is that all you got?” the boarder c
hallenged. “Come on! Fuck me with that thing!”
Cory countered. “Ride my dick, punk! Ride it like you mean it!”
He rammed deeper, forcing almost all of it into the quivering slot. The boarder let out a half laugh, half yelp, but fought back at the same time. He heaved his compact butt back against the huge invader, swallowing it right to the balls.
Cory groaned as Trick’s hole surrounded his cock and his balls nestled up against the smooth buttcrack. He released one nipple and let his hand slide down Trick’s flat torso. His fingers trailed over rippled abs then lower to discover a very long, curved cock—quite a surprise. It was definitely longer than his own.
He seized it. Wrapping his fist around the stiff pole, he began to pump it in time to the drive and thrust of his cock into Trick’s seething asshole.
“Like that, punk? Like all that cock up your tight ass? Like my fist around your fucking dick? Like to get fucked good in an alley with garbage all around you?”
Cory spit out the words, staring down with fascination at the squishy slide in and out of his cock and the tattooed blossom welcoming it. Trick rocked around on his board, his tangled feet lifting and dropping either end expertly. But Cory was just as good with his cock. He knew how to fuck hole, even a tight one like Trick’s. Once he’d buried it to the nuts and knew the punk could take it all, he began to drill his ass.
He slammed his hips against Trick’s tight, sweaty asscheeks. Braced against the bins on either side, he thrust up hard, lifting the slim punk right off his board. He fucked faster and harder, really laying into that ass. It was very satisfying to feel the hole begin to slacken and surrender, gaping open as the tattoo blossomed outward.
Between pants, Trick laughed breathlessly. He laughed! No matter how hard Cory slammed his huge cock into the boarder’s ass, it wasn’t too much for the auburn-haired punk.
Cory countered. He pulled all the way out, his flared knob testing the quivering sphincter as it plopped out with a loud squish. The hole gaped pink and slick, surrounded by red-green tattoo. He slammed his cock back in, all the way.