Down by the Docks

Christian, a bit tipsy after a couple whiskeys at the bar, wandered around the pier. A strong breeze swept his oily brown hair and worn-in T-shirt back. He was reminded of the paunch hanging off of him. This always happened when he was in the middle of another screenplay. The gym faded from his list of priorities as he holed up with his laptop, a bottle of booze, and constant snacking.

At five foot nine the weight piled up quickly on Christian’s frame. He was used to this cycle, to his torso becoming more dense and rotund, his ass filling out, the propensity to sweating. He wore his fat jeans, the ones that wouldn’t stay up without a belt earlier in the year. Now the button dug uncomfortably into his waist.

Christian flexed his muscles to remind himself that he was still fit underneath the pudge. He could still catch an attractive man, at least he hoped. That’s why he was at the docks to begin with. He was overcome with lust after not having sex for several months and then writing a sex scene mere hours ago. Cruising spots were not usually his jam, but Christian needed to get off. He needed a particularly macho guy this evening, someone bigger than himself, someone that dripped with testosterone.

Christian lit a cigarette and gazed out on the water. The docks were empty and his mind returned to the screenplay. Was it any good? What would his agent say?

“Mind if I bum one?”

Christian, startled, turned around quickly. The man standing behind him cast an intimidating shadow. He was around six foot and burly as hell. He wore some sort of uniform that was dirty and worn in. Christian lit the cigarette for him. The man inhaled and stood next to Christian, gazing into the sea.

Christian was aroused and could sense his cock stiffening. He wanted to make a move but resisted. If the dude was interested, he would have to make it known. Christian stood in silence, waiting.

“My name’s Hank,” the man said.

“Christian.”

“I’m a carpenter, just finished up for the day.”

“I’m a writer, I suppose,” Christian replied. “What are you looking for out here?”

“Green eyes and a thick waist.”

Christian chuckled, at least someone appreciated his “thick waist.”

“My hotel is a few blocks away, care to join?”

Christian looked at the carpenter who still stared into the water, in profile. His nose was large and regal with a strong scruffy chin to balance. His eyes were melancholic as his lips sensually curled around the cigarette. Christian’s cock grew harder.

His eyes traveled south down the man’s uniform. Sweat stains mixed with food stains mixed with shop stains. His arms were ruggedly masculine, hard with muscle and dense with hair. The stained tee was tucked underneath a bulging beer gut cinched by a utility belt. Lower down a hefty bulge hung at the crotch of his cargo pants, supported by two solid legs tethering him to the ground.

As they walked back through the city Christian caught whiffs of Hank’s odor, musky and ripe. They walked in silence as Christian led them to the hotel. Once inside Christian felt embarrassed by his writer’s mess of crumpled sticky notes, cigarette butts, and snack wrappers. He pushed some clutter into the trash.

Hank didn’t bat an eye and removed his shirt. He was extremely hairy with a farmer's tan that made the belly at his waist look more pronounced. Toasted arms framed the soft white dough at his midsection. It hung heavily in front of him, eclipsing his waistline and subtly wobbling. Hank gazed at Christian with a cold hunger in his eyes.

Christian removed his T-shirt and unbuttoned his pants. He pulled them down so that he was left only his tight white briefs, his chunky thighs mashed together. Christian didn’t have much hair and felt a brief rush of insecurity standing before the heaping man in front of him. What followed was an insatiable lust.

Hank grinned and stepped forward to pinch one of Christian’s nipples. Christian winced and grabbed Hank’s bulging biceps with both hands, pulling their bodies together. Christian wanted it, wanted everything. Their tongues reached hungrily for one another. Their breath concoctions of cigarettes and whiskey as they explored each other’s mouths. This was exactly what Christian needed.

Against his crotch, Christian could feel Hank’s bulge pulsating with vigor. They stumbled backwards towards the cluttered desk. Christian’s plump behind knocked over several random objects as it plopped onto the cold wooden surface. Hank removed his pants and then his boxers.

His cock was magnificent. Large and proportional, it snapped to attention. Heavy balls hung like ripened fruits and a fluffy fat pad bulged above. Hank peeled back his foreskin revealing precum drooping from the tip and thwacked his cock against the hard wood of the desk mere inches from Christian’s own member.

Hank pulled off Christian’s underwear who wrapped his hands around Hank’s love handles- they were softer than he anticipated- as the two smashed their bodies together. They swapped spit while grinding uncontrollably against one another’s forms. The fat pressed together at their midsections was the only thing keeping them at a distance. A man of Hank’s size was just what Christian needed. Christian’s softening body melted like honey beneath Hank’s tenacious grasp.

It became obvious the desk was no place for two men of size so Hank hoisted Christian onto his feet and then pushed him backwards onto the bed. The springs creaked from the impact. Christian grinned as Hank descended upon him. The two men wrestled in bed for a moment, pinning each other down, their mouths glued together in a frenzy of desire. Their muscles flexed beneath fat that rippled and clapped under impact. Naturally, Christian was overcome by Hank’s strength. The latter pinned the former down.

Christian was splayed on his back. With one hand Hank held Christian’s wrists together above his head. Straddling Christian, Hank thwacked his cock down on Christian’s paunch in the same manner as earlier. He did it twice more. A gorilla asserting his dominance. Christian salivated in anticipation. Hank set him free and their bodies collided.

The small room was beginning to steam up as they gripped each other’s cocks, relishing the macho feel of hard-ons in their hands. Hank maneuvered himself so that his cock was at Christian’s mouth and vice versa. Christian grasped the hunk of meat protruding before him and pushed back the foreskin until his fist was pressing against Hank’s squishy fat pad. Hank’s cock smelled delicious.

Christian took the rod wholesale down his throat as Hank let out a deep sigh of pleasure. Hank’s skin exploded with goosebumps from the talent of Christian’s tongue. Hungrily, Hank opened his mouth and took in Christian’s cock. He slowly moved downward on Christian as Christian’s tongue lavished Hank’s raging prick. Their cocks filled each other’s mouths, throbbing and white hot.

The negative space between their bodies was filled with meaty chub. Hank’s gut spread against Christian’s chest and his fat pad against Christian’s chin. The carpenter lifted his head from sucking cock so that he could thrust his own deeper down Christian’s throat. He felt the tightness of Christian’s throat against his pulsing cock head. He felt the tight vibrations of Christian’s moan through his pipe.

Christian was lost in Hank’s high testosterone pheromones. His throat was stretched to capacity with more dick than he’d swallowed in years while Hank’s smelly balls rolled around at his nose. There was so much fat and hair and sweat in Christian’s face that he lost all sense of control. Hank was massaging Christian’s cock but acquiesced when he sensed the writer edge towards orgasm.

Still, Hanks muscular and fatty haunches continued to thrust. They rippled with force as he bucked into Christian’s eager throat. Hank broke out in a copious sweat as his blood began to boil in ecstasy. His muscles, gripped in pre-orgasmic tension, became taut beneath the jiggling fat that encased them. His balls tightened as he approached ejaculation, but resisted with all his might.

Hank reached around to grip Christian’s fluffy white buns. He kneaded their gooey mass and hairy flesh. Hank enjoyed the feeling of his own manly body, hard and grizzled, against Christian’s plush lazy pudge. He wanted to shoot a load so virile it would travel down Christian’s throat and explode out his ass.

Christian gripped Hank’s immense thighs, as Hank jackhammered his cock in and out of Christian’s mouth. Hank felt the jizz reach his cock. There was no option, no holding back. Electricity jolted up Hank’s spine as he began to come in Christian’s mouth. He gripped Christian’s cock while he did this, pumping it in tandem with his own thrusts.

Christian desperately gulped down load after load of come from Hank as his own cock began readying for take off. His mouth became frantic, deepthroating the last of Hank’s hot spunk as his own body began to convulse. The two men slammed into each other brutally in the throes of violent orgasm. Hank’s mouth descended at the last moment as Christian shot a waterfall of jizz down the carpenter’s throat.

Their bodies remained intertwined as the last spurts of come shot from their cocks. They remained in a sixty nine position, their heads on one another’s pillowy thighs, as the afterglow set in. The sweat on their skin seemed to meet the cold air of the hotel room for the first time as their limbs twitched in a post-ecstasy haze.

“How long you in town for?” Hank asked.

“Until I finish this screenplay. Couple weeks maybe. You?”

“About a month or so until I finish this job.”

“We should do this again.”