Saturday Pounds Me In The Butt - (Classic Tingler Revisited)

as worlds greatest author i have written a lot of dang tales that make hearts and butts kiss the sky. we all know this already since you are here supporting my trot already so first of all BIG THANKS BUCKAROOS i appreciate your way so much i cannot say this enough. behind scenes this process can come in all kinds of ways, sometimes fast and sometimes slow, but when you get to your three hundreth dang book you start thinking 'what the heck? am i just gonna write about ALL THINGS?'

answer is probably 'yes'. at some point there will probably be a tingler about all things that exist. in this way i have considered starting at beginning of the dictionary and working my way through A section but probably more fun to write what you feel at the time and jump around a bit.

this was part of idea behind series of tinglers about every day of the week (gotta cover them all eventually if you are going to write all things). so i started on this seven tingler journey and as worlds greatest author knew i had to think HARD AND LONG about how to capture the personality and feeling of every day.

SATURDAY is a pretty easy one i think. EVERY BUCKAROO KNOWS saturday is a day of adventure and freedom and options. you can take a nap or run a dang marathon or just trot around in the yard lookin at the grass and flowers.

these are oppotunities to PROVE LOVE IS REAL through YOUR OWN UNIQUE WAY. and this is not just some abstract way i am talkin about YOU READING THIS RIGHT NOW. every choice you make can create a better timeline than the one we already have wether you are makin a sandwich or writin a poem or offering a kind high five. do not forget that you have this important power buckaroo. you are SO DANG POWERFUL, powerful enough to create an entire universe just by tippin over a salt shaker or turning it upright. cant wait to use our powers to create more love on this timeline.

please enjoy classic tingler SATURDAY POUNDS ME IN THE BUTT

When it comes to the weekends, Marky loves to get out of town for a little adventure. Whether it’s skydiving, backpacking, or river rafting, Saturday always brings something fun into Marky’s life.

When Marky finally comes face to face with the handsome physical manifestation of Saturday, he embarks on the adventure of a lifetime. What could have easily been the river rafting trip from hell, quickly transforms into an erotic journey deep inside one another’s hearts… and butts.

This erotic tale is 4,000 words of sizzling human on gay day action, including anal, blowjobs, rough sex, cream pies and sentient Saturday love.

(Originally released May 25th, 2018)

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SATURDAY POUNDS ME IN THE BUTT

By Chuck Tingle

During the week, I work hard. Probably too hard, actually, but that doesn’t stop me from enjoying my weekends when they roll around.

Being trapped in a stuffy office for days on end can create a sense of exhaustion in some people, a desire to do nothing but lay around and recuperate when Saturday finally arrives, but not me.

Looking at my calendar, you’d be amazed at the care and planning I put into my weekly escapes, short trips and adventures that fill me with a powerful sense of accomplishment. I’ve only got one life to live, and I’m not going to let my full time job get in the way of worldly exploration.

It’s Friday evening, and the second the clock passes six I’m grabbing my coat and heading for the door, not willing to slow myself down for anyone. I’ve got a long drive out into the desert ahead of me.

Behind me, I can hear my boss start to call out, presumably about to ask if I’m willing to stay behind a bit longer, but I pretend not to hear him. Seconds later, I’m pushing out through the door and marching into the parking lot, where my fully packed car is just waiting to get started on this incredible journey.

I climb in and start the thing up, then tear out into the street, excited for what’s next. I’m hoping to get to my rental cabin before midnight, allowing myself enough time for rest and recuperation. Saturday morning is where the real fun begins.

This is my first time white water rafting, and while some people would find themselves filled with nervous apprehension, I’m not the least bit worried. Rafting is one of those activates that makes people feel like their doing something quite extreme, but in reality, it’s about as dangerous as going swimming at the local pool; at least, in these nearby California waters. I’m sure there are other places where things can get a little hairy, but out here in the desert, I’m mostly looking forward to the time spent with nature. The prospect of floating down a river surrounded by nothing by trees, rocks and wildlife is one of the most incredible gifts I could ever imagine giving myself.

I drive onward, first winding through the tightly packed city streets and then, eventually, finding myself on the woven network of Los Angeles freeways. Despite my best efforts to leave work quickly, the web of traffic has other plans.  Now I’m creeping along so slowly that I might as well be parked, a car closing me in from every direction.

Living in LA, I’m used to the traffic, but this is particularly bad. It looks like everyone has the same idea to get out of town, now that the weekend has finally arrived.

I roll my window down in rest my elbow on the sill, trying to get a little air despite the fact that it’s probably more toxic and polluted than I’d care to know. At least it feels good against my skin.

The car next to me has their window rolled down, as well, and the driver catches my eye. I glance over, trying not to be awkward with my curiosity but immediately finding my sightline locked tight with the driver’s. We both smile.

“Hey,” I call over, awkwardly.

The driver nods and I suddenly realize why he caught my eye. I recognize him, and although it’s not uncommon to find yourself face-to-face with a celebrity in this city, the man that I’m staring at is on a whole other level.

“Oh my god” I blurt. “You’re Saturday.”

The sentient, manifested day nods. “Guilty,” he replies with a smile.

“Where are you headed?” I question.

“To work,” the living concept informs me.

I’m a little shocked by this. Saturday is the last living day you’d expect to have a job. After all, he’s the embodiment of rest and relaxation, a day meant for adventuring and fun, not grinding away for a paycheck.

Then again, I suppose everyone has to work at some point.

“I’m leaving work myself,” I offer. “Can’t wait for the weekend.”

“You’re welcome,” Saturday says with a laugh.

It takes me a moment to remember that tomorrow is his day. Of course this sentient twenty-four hour period of time is headed to work, it’s the only day of the week he’s committed to.

The traffic begins to move again and our cars slowly drift farther and farther apart, prompting me to offer a quick wave goodbye. “Have a good one,” I call out.

Saturday nods and waves in return, pulling ahead and eventually getting lost in the sea of other vehicles.

Over the next few hours, the traffic eventually disperses, slowly at first and then speeding up until, eventually, I find myself on a long, empty stretch of highway that heads out into the empty desert. There’s beautiful yellow sand as far as I can see, the plains covered in strange, dry shrubs and cacti until they reach the base of the distant mountain ranges. It’s hard to imagine a river cutting through all of this, but that’s exactly where I’m headed.

I finally arrive at the campsite just before midnight, the sun long since dipped behind the horizon and plunging the world into darkness.

As I carry my backpack towards my one person cabin, I can’t help but let my thoughts drift back to Saturday, realizing now that he’s headed into the office, wherever that may be, while I’m just about ready to begin my weekend adventure.

It’s easy to take Saturday for granted, but in this moment I have nothing but appreciation for the guy. Without him, the weekend would be half as long, not nearly enough time for the rest of us to plan a trip or enjoy a moment to ourselves. Saturday has been out there busting his ass since the beginning of time.

Of course, I’m alsostill mulling over the fact that the sentient day is even hotter than I ever could’ve expected. It’s not often that I’m attracted to other male forms, but with Saturday there’s no denying the absolute beauty of his physically manifested body. The day is ripped; beautiful broad shoulders framing a perfectly sculpted chest and abs. His form is a shifting mass of good times and exciting weekend plans, but they take root in this world just long enough to recognize his boyish smile and chiseled jawline.

That night, I fall asleep with visions of this spectacularly handsome day dancing through my head.

Saturday arrives bright and early, the sunlight streaming in brilliantly through my cabin windows and tickling my eyelids.

The second that I realize what’s happening, I roll over and get out of bed, ready to begin. It’s fifteen minutes until our orientation down by the river, and I don’t intend to be late.

Soon enough, I’m barreling out of my cabin door and walking briskly down a sunlit path towards the nearby sound of rushing water.

You’d think it would be hard to find any lush vegetation out here in the desert, but these rare spots with nearby water more than make up for the lack of flora elsewhere. Currently, I’m absolutely surrounded by impressive greenery, the plants soaking up as much of the nearby underground water as they can.

Speaking of water, it’s not long before I arrive at the water’s edge, where the three river guides are already waiting. I recognize one of them immediately.

“Hey!” I cry out, greeting Saturday enthusiastically.

The living day smiles, a mutual look of recognition crossing his face. “Well, look who it is.”

“Why aren’t you out there being Saturday?” I continue.

“I am,” the sentient moment of time replies. “I’m also a river raft instructor.”

“You keep busy,” I retort with a laugh.

“You know it,” Saturday offers with a playful wink.

After allowing this incredible physical manifestation to invade my thoughts so thoroughly last night, I didn’t think I could possibly find myself any more attracted to him, yet here we are. There’s something that’s just so undeniably charming about his free spirited way, something that automatically makes you want to get even closer to him.

“Alright,” the other rafting instructor shouts, clapping his hands together as the rest of the rafters arrive behind me. “As you can see, this is a small group. There are five of you and only three of us, which means we’ll have two pairs and a one on one instructor.”

“I’ll take him,” Saturday interjects, pointing at me. “You guys pair off.”

I smile. Maybe the attraction is more mutual than I thought.

The next while is spent going over safety procedures and getting a general understanding of the raft. With only two of us, it’s going to be slightly difficult to control, but these boats are much smaller than some of the other’s that I’ve seen. Saturday assures me that we’ll be just fine.

“What’s your name, by the way?” the living day questions as we carry our blow up boat into the water.

“Marky,” I inform him.

“You ready to have some fun, Marky?” he continues.

There’s a weight to the sentient period of time’s words that I immediately pick up on, a double meaning hidden just below the surface, but I don’t react to it yet. I’m not exactly sure how.

“I’m ready,” I offer with a smile.

Me and Saturday climb aboard our river raft, paddles in hand, and begin to move out into the current with the other boats. The second we make it to the flow of the river, we find ourselves begin propelled forward by a powerful force, nature’s swift hand carrying us along.

Already, my heart is pumping hard within my chest, ready for action.

The guides have planned our trek out quite well, starting with a fast but relatively calm section of the river and then eventually evolving into some rugged, rocky terrain. There, the water begins to bubble and boil, churning over the hidden boulders below with frothy white. It’s not long before I get the hang of turning from left to right, falling into sync with Saturday as we deftly maneuver our vessel through the crags.

The whole experience is so much fun that I barely notice as we start to drift away from the other boats. We’re going too fast now, and as much as Saturday is trying to slow things down, the current has swept us up into its powerful grasp.

“No need to worry,” Saturday assures me. “These rapids don’t last long. Once we get around this bend everything flattens out and we can pull over while the others catch up.”

I nod, thankful to have such a self-assured leader by my side.

“Only thing we have to do now is avoid this fork,” Saturday continues, pointing down river at a section where the paths diverge.

Saturday quickly starts to paddle as hard as he can, and I follow suit, pushing through the water with as much force as I can muster while I attempt to send our boat in the right direction. We’re doing great, at first, but suddenly I can feel my paddle catch against something hidden just below the water’s surface. It’s a log or a rock of some kind, and it’s lodged tight. The wood of my paddle, no matter how well reinforced, is no match for this obstacle and I suddenly hear a loud crack as it splinters a bit.

The paddle’s still functional, but that doesn’t matter as the oar is torn from my hands, disappearing behind Saturday and me as we rapidly gain speed. Without my help, it quickly becomes apparent we have no way to avoid the fork.

Now on an entirely new path, the water below us becomes steep and rocky, a dangerous series of pools that churn and swirl around us. These rapids are steep and unforgiving, but somehow we manage to hang on tight.

“Don’t let go or you’ll get caught in the whirlpools!” Saturday yells out, prompting me to hang on even tighter than before.

Eventually, the water evens out into a long straightaway. At which point Saturday quickly switches gears. “Okay, now we’ve gotta swim for the shore!” he calls out. “There’s a waterfall ahead! Leave the boat!”

Saturday leaps from the raft and I follow closely behind, propelling myself through the water with as much force as I can muster. I can feel the current dragging me along, making every movement labored and difficult as I’m swept closer and closer to the waterfall’s bubbling edge.

I realize almost immediately that I’m not going to make it, and neither is Saturday.

Suddenly, I’m being propelled through the air, falling down for what seems like forever as the water pours ferociously around me. We’re over the waterfall, tumbling through end of end and then slamming hard into the water below.

Fortunately, this pool is deep, the rocks below eroded away after years and years of geological beating from the cascade of water above. At first, I have a hard time figuring out which way is up, but eventually I gather my bearings and come rocketing up towards the surface.

I break through the water and take in a huge gasp of air, frantically searching around for the shore. It’s not far.

Soon enough, I’m pulling myself up onto the edge of this small lake, the sound of the waterfall still roaring behind me as I lay flat on my back and struggle to regain my composure. Saturday is laying next to me on the sandy shore, equally exhausted.

Suddenly, I start to laugh. I know this situation is serious, and our lives were in grave danger just moments before, but for some reason laughing out loud is all that I can do. We’re having a real adventure now, after all.

Before I know it, Saturday is chuckling loudly, too.

“Are we lost?” I finally ask once we’ve calmed down a bit.

“No, no,” Saturday assures me. “We’re way off course, but I know how to get us back. It’s just gonna be a bit of a hike.”

Saturday stands up, his body now glistening and wet in the afternoon sun. Obviously, his attractiveness was never in question, but in this moment I find myself utterly enraptured with his toned physique. You can tell that Saturday is incredibly active, his body refined by centuries of physical activities and weekend trips.

“You ready to get started?” Saturday questions.

“Oh, yeah,” I stammer, suddenly ripped from my trance.

Saturday leads the way, and soon enough the two of us are pushing our way back up the hillside through the thick brush. From my place behind him, I’m getting a great look at the manifested concept’s toned, muscular ass, but I try my best not to stare.

“I feel weird saying this,” I finally offer, “but I’m kinda glad we got lost out here like this. I came looking for an adventure, and I definitely found it.”

“That’s what Saturday is all about,” the living day calls back over his shoulder.

“Seems like it,” I reply, then hesitate for a moment. There’s a deep and powerful drive to see just how far I can push things with this handsome amount of time, but his notoriety is actually kind of intimidating. Saturday is the most famous person I’ve ever met, by far.

Still, I have to try.

“Anything else that happens on Saturday?” I question.

“Lots of relaxing,” the day replies, nonchalantly. “If people go too hard on Friday then I’ll typically come in and clean up the mess. I love Friday though, don’t get me wrong.”

“What about sex,” I finally blurt.

The living day suddenly stops in his tracks. He turns around to face me, a wry grin plastered across his face. “Yeah, there’s a lot of that going on too,” he says with a knowing smirk. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious,” I tell him in a tone that defies my words.

I step forward until I’m pressed up against the handsome selection of time’s broad chest. I’m trembling hard, not sure what to do next.

Fortunately, Saturday doesn’t wait for me to figure it out.

Suddenly, the living day is kissing me passionately, our bodies locked in a lustful embrace as he tears my wet shirt up over my head and tosses it to the side. I do the same thing to Saturday, ripping off his shirt and then dropping down to my knees on the dirt before him. I frantically unbuckle Saturday’s pants and reach inside, pulling forth and absolutely enormous cock that shoots out towards my face like a fleshy rocket.

I gasp aloud, impressed with the living day’s incredible size.

“You like what you see?” Saturday coos.

“Oh yeah,” I groan, then wrap my fingers tightly around the sentient day of the week’s shaft.

I begin to beat Saturday off slowly, staring up at him with lustful eyes as the day begins to rock his hips back and forth in time with my movements. It doesn’t take long before the lust building within me overflows completely, prompting me to open my mouth wide and take the living day’s enormous cock between my lips. I bob my head up and down across his length slowly at first, then gradually speed up.

With my free hand I cradle Saturday’s hanging balls, servicing him enthusiastically. Clearly, this is exactly what the handsome living day is looking for, because his moans continue to grow louder and louder. Eventually, the sentient day of the week leans back his head and lets out a long, satisfied cry, clearly enjoying his time between my lips.

Seizing the moment, I push my face hard against Saturday’s abs, allowing him to slip all the way down into the absolute depths of my neck. Now fully consumed in a perfectly performed deep throat, I feel as though I’ve submitted to this adventurous period of time completely. Saturday is in control now, and his commanding presence does nothing but continue to turn me on.

Eventually, I run out of air and pull back with a gasp, spit dangling from my lips in a long glistening strand.

I stand up and wrap my arms around Saturday’s neck, taking note of just how fit and muscular this physically manifested concept really is. His muscles bulging below me, I swiftly jump up and wrap my legs around Saturday’s hulking frame.

From here, I can easily reach back and grab hold of the living day’s enormous swollen cock, placing the thick shaft at the tightly puckered rim of my asshole.

“I need you inside me,” I gush. “My ass needs a weekend adventure just as much as I do.”

Without hesitation, Saturday drops me down onto his utterly enormous shaft, brutally impaling my body as my asshole struggles to accommodate the man’s size. I can feel my anal limits stretched to the absolute brink, the skin around my butthole pulled perfectly tight while Saturday begins to slowly pump in and out of me.

“Oh my fucking god,” I groan, my fingers gripping tight onto the handsome day’s broad shoulders.

Saturday uses the force of gravity to maneuver me across his rod, every pound thrusting me as deep as it can possibly go. The sensation is intense, and admittedly uncomfortable at first as I struggle to adjust to the handsome living day’s massive size. The longer that I ride his shaft, however, the more my asshole begins to loosen up, relaxing as the painful tension slips away. Soon enough, the only sensation flowing through me is a warm and pleasant ache.

Picking up the pace, it’s not long before Saturday is hammering up into my butthole with everything that he’s got, throttling my body with a steady, up-tempo rhythm. Every thrust sends a sharp jolt of erotic pleasure through my body, the sensations building and building as I start to tremble and quake.

“Harder! Fuck me harder!” I command, totally lost in a belligerent state of cock drunk lust. “Fuck this tight asshole!”

By now, the pleasure has spilled out across every nerve of my body, it fills my veins and makes me ache to explode. I reach down with one hand and grab onto my cock, beating myself off in time with the slams up my tight ass.

Soon enough, the pleasure from within my prostate and the powerful ache of my cock begin to swirl together, creating a sensation that is entirely new and even more potent. I’m hurtling towards my impending climax at lighting speed, and the next thing I know I’m flying over the edge.

I throw my head back and let out a blissful howl, my voice carrying out across the surrounding forest. If the other rafting crew is anywhere nearby, then they’ve certainly got a lock on our location now. I am shaking hard, trembling as hot ropes of sticky jizz erupt from the head of my shaft and splatter out across Saturday’s toned and muscular chest. The semen ejects in pump after milky pump, absolutely covering my lover in a beautiful, pearly pattern until I’ve run entirely dry.

Now it’s Saturday’s turn.

I swiftly lift myself off of the handsome living day’s rod and then drop down to the ground before him, smiling up with a wide and satisfied grin.

“Cum all over my fucking face!” I demand, as the hulking selection of time beats himself off above me. “Shoot that huge day of the week load all over me!”

Mirroring the beginning of our encounter, I reach up and cradle Saturday’s hanging balls once more, coaxing him onward. I watch as his cum covered abs begin to clench and release, a sure fire sign that he’s dangerously close to his breaking point.

“Come on,” I beg, egging him on even more. “Cover me in your hot sticky jizz!”
 Suddenly, Saturday clenches his teeth and lets out a long, drawn out hiss through the spaces between. He tenses up briefly and then releases with a massive cum payload, shooting his spunk across my face in a series of beautiful white spurts. I catch as much of the milky liquid as I can within my mouth, swallowing hungrily while the rest of it paints me from ear to ear. By the end of Saturday’s orgasm, I’m covered in a thick glaze, the jizz dangling off my chin in several long, semi translucent strands.

I can barely see as Saturday helps me up to my feet. I’m not exactly sure what the handsome selection of time is doing until, suddenly, I can feel his lips against mine, kissing me hard. He doesn’t seem to mind all the warm cum covering my lips, and neither do I.

When Saturday finally pulls away, he quickly walks over to the edge of the path and starts collecting something. He returns quickly, handing me a broad leaf.

“Here,” explains the living day. “These palms fill with dew and create pools of soothing water when they are this close to a river. You can use them to clean up.”

I lift the giant leaf and let the water spill out across my face, the cum immediately swept away by a mysterious collection of fantastic, natural ingredients.

“See!” Saturday offers.

It’s not long before the two of us have entirely cleaned up, ready to continue our trek thanks to the adventurous day’s vast knowledge of the great outdoors.

“How long until we make it back to camp?” I question.

The handsome selection of time considers this for a moment. “Oh, not too long now. I’d say we can probably make it there in three hours.”

“What’s the rush?” I question. “I’m here for an adventure, and this is it!”

Saturday nods. “You’re right, there’s nothing wrong with a little trip off of the beaten path. We could always take the long way through the valley and see what happens.”

“We’ve got all day,” I tell him with a playful smile.