Only the Raunchiest Love Can Tarnish the Chrome Shielding This Biker's Heart E-Book

Gaylord Fancypants

• Herausgeber: Eroticatorium
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

His heart vrooms like the engine of his finely-tuned motorcycle... Sammy never thought his str8-biker habit would turn into an extreme love affair! Can his dirty DILF lover Thorn handle falling in love with a man? Note: This is an official inspired and reimagined second edition of a classic Gavin Rockhard tale!

Leseprobe

Contents

Title Page copy

Chapter One - The Bar

Chapter Two - The Heist

Chapter Three - The Rough Trade

Chapter Four - The Cell

Gaylord Fancypants Endmatter copy

Only the Raunchiest Love Can Tarnish the Chrome Shielding This Biker's Heart: An MM Bad-Boy Erom Novelette

Gaylord Fancypants

Copyright 2018

To keep up-to-date on Gaylord Fancypants' MM fantasy erotica and his fancy pants, check out the mailing list! (http://eepurl.com/drHK4D)

All characters depicted in sexual situations in this publication are eighteen years of age or older.

These stories are about fictional consenting adults engaging in taboo and controversial sexual acts. Nobody involved in the creation of this ebook, including authors, editors and models, support immoral or illegal acts in real life. Cover models are not intended to illustrate specific people and the content does not refer to models' actual acts, identity, history, beliefs or behavior. No characters depicted in this ebook are intended to represent real people.

CHAPTER ONE

The Bar

The bar was called Black Tuesdays, and Sammy liked it because it was full of hot guys and not many women. That particular combination tended to lead to him getting to stroke off -- or more -- at least one sexy guy each time he went there.

Tonight was no exception. One lean and lanky biker in black leather writhed beneath Sammy's grasp as he gave him a handjob in the tiny, dingy bathroom stall. He was Gearie, and he hadn't brought any money for beer tonight. That was why Sammy gave him a handjob in exchange for five dollars, enough for two cheap beers here.

Cum sprayed over Sammy's hand and onto the floor of the grimy bathroom. Sammy leaned in and kissed Gearie on the neck as he stroked his dick with one hand. Gearie bristled a bit but didn't complain.

One of the most glorious things about Gearie was that he smelled bad -- not really stinky, just with a strongly masculine aura that stank of the repair garage he had worked in earlier today. He smelled like oil and rust and steel, and a bit of sweat. Sammy sucked on Gearie's neck hard enough to leave a hickey, which Gearie wouldn't have allowed but he had a layer of scraggly beard hairs that covered up the hickey anyway. Since no one was watching and no one would be able to tell later, Gearie just pretended he hadn't noticed.

Gearie grunted, his breath condensing on Sammy's cheek. Sammy's hand snuck under his sleeveless shirt, caressing his chest and tweaking his nipples, while Gearie's whole body shook. Sammy smiled at his shocked expression.

They were always shocked, even though Sammy had done it to them before. Gearie always said that, when he was done getting a handjob from Sammy, he thought it wasn't that good and he didn't need to go out of his way to do it again. But when he did do it again -- when he wanted Sammy to buy him beer again -- he thought it felt better than any handjob could. Once it was over, however, his mind would start to minimize it, and he'd remember what it felt like to get jacked off by a woman with tits you could touch as you orgasmed.

Sammy couldn't compete with tits. But he could compete on being agreeable about it, he thought as Gearie slunk off and was replaced by a thick-bodied black biker with a mustache. He already had his cock out -- waving it through his fingers at Gearie as he walked away.

"Hell yeah, Gearie, you wanna play wit' my balls while he jacks me off? Hey? Hey, Gearie-" He laughed because Gearie just ignored him. He wiggled his girthy shaft at Sammy and came into the bathroom stall. "I heard you give handjobs for beer."

Sammy grabbed his dick at the same time as he placed a five-dollar bill in the black biker's shirt pocket. Sammy giggled and the black biker groaned, his dick already half-hard. Sammy stroked slowly at first, then quickly sped up.

"Shit... You know I'd have done this for free? Don't need beer to bust a nut," the black biker said. He leaned his head back. "I ain't even know this bar had someone like you!" He pounded his fists on the wall of the stall behind him. He bucked his hips like he wanted to fuck Sammy's hand, then he gyrated even harder, like he thought his dick was already in Sammy's ass and he needed to force it in deeper.

"Relax, lean against the wall," Sammy said. He tried to touch the black biker's chest underneath his shirt, but the man kept leaning forward, on Sammy, fucking his hand hard. Sammy had to use both hands just to support the man so he didn't crush him.

Like Gearie, the burly black biker hadn't started drinking yet. He had told everyone in the front of the bar -- his biker buddies -- that he was getting a handjob first because he was horny, it was actually because he was in desperate need of money. He hoped to not have to pay for any drinks tonight.

"Lemme in that ass, man, I can't cum from a handjob-" He grunted and rubbed his face on Sammy's, as his cock pulsated powerfully in Sammy's hand. The man seemed to want to kiss Sammy but thought that was too gay, so he just rubbed his face against Sammy's. Their lips did touch, so it was a sort of a kiss, but Sammy's tongue couldn't penetrate the other man's lips, making it a rather dry and chaste kiss. Meanwhile the man's cock was anything but dry, humping Sammy's belly underneath his shirt while Sammy tried to keep jacking him off.

His big muscle-bound body trembled and shook, dick jutting under Sammy's tee shirt and rubbing over his belly. Their position had changed so quickly Sammy was barely jacking him off anymore -- and found it difficult to get ahold of his precum-slimed dick as it rubbed over Sammy's flat belly -- when the man blew his wad.

"Uh, yeah, hold still, hold still..." The black biker moaned loudly, holding Sammy in position as he humped his dick across Sammy's belly and hand. Sammy loved being treated like a cumrag like this -- it was one of the reasons he came to this biker bar. Cum flew over his chest, soaking into his tee shirt and even shooting onto his chin.

The black biker closed his eyes, rubbing his veiny dick over Sammy's chest, smearing cum all over. He groaned a little when he finally opened his eyes and saw that cum-soaked shirt. He shuddered. He dick flopped limply at his crotch, and he walked out of the bathroom even before he remembered to put his dick away.

There was no one else quite here yet, so Sammy had a few moments. He could have gotten cleaned up, but he didn't want to. He was here, after all, to be used as a cumrag by anyone who needed someone else to buy his first beer. He liked the feel of warm, sticky cum on his shirt, drying on his chest.

"Uncle Thorn, come on! Don't be-" Gearie's voice filled the air, but was overpowered by the men in the bar laughing. Someone must have smashed a bottle on the wall because Sammy heard glass shatter and fall to the ground, followed by more laughter.