Ass, Brad, Back, Hand Job



I wanted to just kneel there, behind his spread legs, and gaze and stare at that horse cock swinging in front of me. It’s funny….sometimes I know when I’m dreaming, but if I don’t try to analyze the situation too much, the dream continues. So I didn’t try and figure out where we were or nothing. There was just a big dark room. Concrete walls. One or two bare light bulbs. I got the impression that he didn’t like it, which was fine with me. It didn’t go with the sleek, perfect look that was him. It was rough, and dirty, and dark, and humiliating. A basement handjob instead of his regular penthouse screws.
He didn’t say anything. He just stood facing away from me, legs spread wide, leaning on some kind of little waist-high table. I could hear him breathing. He was nervous. He was scared. I stroked the insides of his thighs, just below his balls. He tensed up.

“Ohhhh.” He swallowed hard. “Ohhh B-Brad!”

I just smiled and kept stroking his huge thighs. I did it real soft. I was waiting for something. Man!

I would never tell him to his face, but those thighs were like tree trunks, wonders of nature. I squeezed them gently once, and then I dragged my fingernails against his thighs, right underneath his balls.

“OH!” He leaned forward, and I saw what I was waiting to see. Goose bumps, or goose flesh, or whatever you call it, just raced all around his thighs, and his body quaked. I laughed to myself.

“I ain’t even started yet, Dave!”


“Aw ya big baby!” I said as I grabbed what I remember as a huge plastic bottle of lube. I snapped the cap open and upended it and dumped what seemed like a cup of warm, clear jelly into the palm of my hand. Half of it splattered onto the floor. “Here it comes Dave.” I reached between his legs and grabbed his cock at the base. I could barely get my fingers around it. The size of it just made your mind fly. You fantasize about fantasy dicks, and you play with guys that are hung, and you compare them to that dream cock in your head, but when you actually see it in front of you! When you actually have it in your hands! When you see that something like that can actually exist, and that some guy has it. There’s no more room left to dream! There’s no room for improvement. It’s the ultimate cock, and it’s yours for the taking…and you’ve gotta take it, because it should be yours somehow…someway.

It was warm, hard, and stiff. The veins stood out, and when I wrapped my hand around the base, I could feel his pulse. He moaned and stiffened up again. When I pulled his meat down, he moaned again and tilted his hips back to ease the pulling. I pulled that fucker until it was pointing straight down. “It’s gonna feel good Dave!”

He moaned. He was scared.

Then I took my other hand, and I remember thinking how cool it was to see it just slobbering with a ton of lube, and to know that I had that big bottle next to me, and I slicked his meat from base to head, and grabbed the swollen head and pulled until it suddenly slipped from my grasp.

He went ballistic.

He grabbed hold of that little platform he was leaning against. He bent at the knees. He bobbed up and down, and just cursed and sobbed and moaned as I greased his cock really, really, really, really slow. Yeah, I’m sadistic. So what? He deserves it. I wished everybody could see him now. Mr. Perfect.

He owed me. Or he lost a bet. Something kept him there. Something kept him from turning around and planting one of those big feet on my face and kicking me across the room. Something kept him from running away. I didn’t care what it was. I just got the feeling that he never thought he’d be in this situation, and now there was nothing he could do about it.

He begged me to stop. He begged me to wait. I could tell it was all he could do to keep his feet on the floor. Whenever he’d catch his breath, I’d go to work on the knob, holding it in my slippery fist and just twisting and twisting and twisting until that big guy was screaming. And then I’d go back to stroking that fuck pole.


I’d bring him right to the edge. His whimpers would get higher and higher and his body would get tighter and tighter and then he’d hold his breath, grip the sides of the table…and I’d stop. And he’d cry and choke and sob.

“I’m gonna make you cum, Dave. Eventually. You know it. I know it.”

He didn’t want to cum. He was desperate not to cum. I don’t know why. But he sure was gonna cum. I wanted to see jets…not squirts…but jets of cum blasting from that foot long muscle cock. I wanted to feel those balls pumping, emptying. I wanted to see him sobbing. I wanted to see the look on his face when he realized that his hated rival made him cum.

His balls were climbing into his sack. I grabbed them and pulled, and then I locked my hand around their base, trapping them. I could feel them pulling. They wanted to climb up and blast out a load, but I wouldn’t let them. I twisted them. I kissed them. He jerked at the sensation. I licked them. And all the while, I stroked his meat.

He went crazy. He was sobbing like there was no tomorrow, and you could tell he wanted to pull away, but I had him held prisoner. Every time he shifted too much left or right, I gave him a good pull on the balls. I decided then and there that I was not gonna let go of his nuts. But I got creative with his cock. The knob twisting drove him wild. He rested his upper body on the little table and wailed. I think I heard him bang his head on it a few times, and for sure I saw him pound on it with his fist. Then, when I started the slow, slick strokes, he stomped his foot on the floor, just like a bull or a horse, and then he was just mindless, like an animal, and he tried to climb up on the table!

I loved it

I yanked him back down. “Oh we got a long way to go yet Dave,” I said. I didn’t let go of his balls, but I released my hold on his cock for a moment, knocked the bottle of lube over, and then pressed down on it with my knee so that a big ol’ glob of fresh lube splattered into my hand. And then I began again. “How’s this feel Dave?”

He went berserk.

And all the while, that perfect, creamy, silky, sweaty, flexing BUTT was quivering right in front of me, those ass cheeks clenching and trembling, glistening, exposing that virgin butt hole right in front of my face.

I tell you, my whole body felt erect. I was gonna make him cum, and then I was gonna have my way with his ass. That ass was mine. It needed tormenting of all kinds, and ol’ Brad is just the man to do it.