I’m 38, but people tell me I look younger. Maybe it’s the shock of blonde hair that I wear in a cut that looks a little like a surfer dude. Maybe it’s my attitude. I never take things too seriously, and I guess I just don’t feel my age. My job as assistant store manager at a big chain department store includes supervising a staff of young guys that move the stock around, and generally keep the store filled-in and shoppable. They usually come from a world that is very different than mine. Urban, street savvy, and carefree. Lots of testosterone. Sometimes hard to direct, because they can always get another entry-level job, so why should they worry about getting fired?

To fill an opening, I interviewed several guys and decided on one candidate that didn’t quite fit the regular profile. In his mid twenties, Franco was a little older than the teens I was used to working with. He had dark, wavy hair that he wore slicked back, that cascaded on his neck in black, shiny ringlets. About 5’ 11”, clean shaven, but with a faint blue shadow. His eyes were brown, almost black, and slanted down slightly on the outsides. The shape of his beautiful eyes made him look a little sleepy, just about to nod off. I could just see the edge of a tattoo under his right shirt sleeve. The curly hair that peeked out over the edge of his “wife-beater” undershirt helped to define his broad, muscular chest. I couldn’t help imagining the trail of hair continuing down, ending in lush, dark, soft rings around what must be a substantial cock, based on his pronounced features. You know what they say about big noses...

He was anxious to start, although he did warn me that he was waiting to hear from the Police Department, that he had applied and tested to enter the academy next month. I decided immediately that I wanted the opportunity to watch this guy sweat and flex his body as he unloaded my trucks, even if only for a month.

Franco had a lot of stamina. he worked many hours, and other than showing up with an occasional hangover, he proved to be a great stock associate. I watched him. His pale skin glistened as he lifted the boxes onto the pallets. The damp spots that formed under his armpits and down the small of his back were enticing. I often stood near to him, to smell the scent of this man. But what I really wanted is to be under this man, and feel his hot arms pushing my legs behind my head!

Franco showed up one day with a set of gashes on his cheek. I asked him what happened.

“Nuttin’ much. There’s this fuckin’ bar on Chester Boulevard that is nuttin’ but trouble. I ain’t goin’ there again. Damn bitch nearly scratched my eye out! I guess I came on a little too strong for the cunt.”

Funny thing. The only bar I could think of on Chester is a raunchy gay place called the Crow Bar. I don’t think the place has seen a bitch, let alone a cunt, in many years. I let the conversation go, but couldn’t help thinking about this for the rest of the day.

A month went by. No word from the academy. One afternoon, I happened to go into a stock room to find something for a customer, and came upon Franco. He was sitting on a carton, his pants open and loose around his thighs, a can of beer on the floor next to him.

I saw his enormous cock for the first time, although because I had dreamed about it often enough it appeared familiar to me. It was darker than his creamy white thighs, and the uncut tip was bright red, almost angry looking. I’m not good with measurements, but it had to be nine inches at least. I couldn’t help thinking it was big, but not too big to fit nicely into my asshole. I watched for a minute, knowing I would have to stop him soon, and of course ultimately fire him for this indiscretion.

“What the hell do you think your up to? Are you out of your mind?”

Franco jumped off the box and pulled his pants up. His dick was engorged and hard, so it took a few seconds to pull it completely back into his fly. He jumped around and shook the bright red cock in my direction until it softened enough to put away. I was angry, but I was swooning, I couldn’t help instantly fantasizing that big, shiny piece of meat entering my mouth, feeling it push against the back of my throat. What would it taste like to have his cum, hot and thick, explode in my mouth and run down my chin onto the floor?

“Shit, man, I’m sorry. I got this tension, y’know? I hadda get it out of my system. What are you gonna do about this now? Fuck! I need this job, man!”

He explained that the Police academy had not gotten back to him, and since the next group of rookies started in just ten days, he was getting panicky.

“Too much pressure isn’t good for a man. I’m sorry you caught me, but if you fire me now, I’ll never get into the academy. That’s all they need to hear, that I was thrown outta here for jerkin’ off on the job!”

I guess my habit of not taking things too seriously won out, or maybe it was the plea I saw in those sleepy dark eyes, but I told him I would do nothing for now, and future action would be based upon his ongoing performance.

Franco didn’t take long to give me more cause for concern. The next day, he showed up late and very agitated. The rest of the day went downhill from there. He was wild, throwing boxes around that two men would have struggled to lift. As he worked, you could hear him muttering something to himself, peppered with “fuck”, “assholes”, and other colorful terms. Someone had pissed him off big time!

I tried to stay out of his way, but his coarse language was making me hot, and I was drawn to this sexy, dangerous animal pacing around in front of me. I imagined him mounting me doggy-style, his strong legs holding his hips directly over my aching ass. His cock plunging quickly and rudely into my hole. Intense pain at first, but stretching me out with every beastly thrust. All of that anger channeled into a mean-spirited rape of my butt. Riding me bareback, no time in his frenzied attack to find a condom, gallons of cum filling me until my eyes bugged out of my head.

I finally snapped back to reality, and decided I had to get involved. His attitude was effecting productivity, and he had to calm down, or go home. I called him into the stockroom, the same room where I had found him beating off, and asked him what was going on.

“The fuckin’ police don’t fuckin’ want me to join ‘em. I feel like I’ve been cheated. It’s all I ever wanted to do , and the fuckin’ assholes won’t give me a chance. Goddam sons-o-bitches can’t see how good I’d be as a cop? I should fuckin’ go down there and rip a few new assholes on the muthafuckkas!”

I began to see why the academy passed on Franco. This man should definitely not be carrying a gun! But as I watched, that shotgun slung firmly in his pants began to stiffen as he yelled. His excitement level increased with the volume of his tirade. I asked what I could do.

“Just don’t fire me now. I need this job now more than ever. I’ll be just the man you need. I can do whatever you ask me to, and you know that!”

Those thoughts came flooding back again, the flood of cum shooting from his monster dick, the beast picking me up in his hairy arms, strong calloused hands, carrying me to his lair, to lay me face-down on his bed and plugging my ass for many, many hours. The sun rises, and I awaken with my head on his leg, his soft, warm dick just a hair away from my lips. The scent of him, salty and sweet, filling my nostrils with every breath. Ah, a ride on the train of thought!

I told him not to worry. I wouldn’t fire him, not now, not for this. Truth is, I don’t think I could ever fire him, he had become such an obsession for me. I would miss the big goofball if he were gone! He asked me what I was doing after work. He really needed to talk, and I was the only one who seemed to care what he was going through. Franco made a suggestion.

“Let’s go over to Chester Boulevard to that bar I told you about. It’s called the Crow Bar.”

I hadn’t been there in a while, but I knew it was still the same sleazy gay place it used to be. I was getting my hopes up. I had some of my most delicious encounters in that bar when I was Franco’s age. The cocks that have gone through that bar... and gone through that puckery-pink hole in my butt! It used to have a fabulous back room, upholstered in vinyl, wooden deck flooring for easy cleaning the day-after. I wondered if it was still there. Maybe I would find out, if I took a chance and went out with this madman.

We left the store around 9:30 that night. I left my car in the lot, but as soon as I climbed into his f150 pickup, I began to regret my choices. What the fuck was I doing? I’m too old for this nonsense, aren’t I? He had one of those license plate surrounds with two chrome naked ladies on either side. His playboy bunny air freshener hung from his rear-view mirror. As I sat next to him, he poured his heart out to me.

How he had grown up mostly on his own, renting a room with a bath from an uncle in a part of town I know not to travel through. His body smelled strong in the small cabin of the truck, but it was far from unpleasant. It was making me hot again to imagine this guy taking me away into the unknown. Only this time, it was not my imagination. His leg was almost touching mine on the bench seat, the floor mounted shift brought his hand almost on top of my knee. He shifted his broad hips just slightly, bringing his right leg tight up against mine. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t move an inch. I felt like I was playing one of those coy kid’s games, like it was our first date!

I began to notice places along our route where Franco could possibly pull over, and be completely out of sight from the road. I imagined how he could then take his shirt off, show me how his muscular frame fills out the white, clinging undershirt he always wears. His pants would come off next, the belt removed from the loops. A nice soft leather belt wrapped several times around my wrists, tight enough to cause a little discomfort... but still playful enough to enjoy. The seams in my Fendi suit were not sewn to withstand any great pressure, so his beefy hands pulling on my back pockets split the pants right up the butt. What possessed me to wear a thong that day? Could I have known? Franco has no trouble putting his middle finger into my hole, then another. The thong moves obediently to one side. I get a little panicked, as he inserts yet another finger, then the thumb. It hurts, a familiar burn that subsides in a few seconds to a dull throb. I’m OK if he doesn’t go any further. My private fantasy continues to play out as we drive in silence.

“How much fuckin’ pain can you take, man? I take pain every day. My life is a fuckin’ pain in the ass. I want you to feel how much I hurt. My goddam life is a fist up the ass!”

With that, Franco pushes his hand into my soft insides with one firm thrust. I feel like blacking out, but I will myself to stay awake. This incredible man has his amazingly rough and blistered hand far up inside my body. How often does that happen? The leather belt tightens on my wrists as I squirm and scream, like a demented puppet on his hand.

“We’re here!”

Franco’s voice snaps me out of my delirium, and we get out of the truck and head for the door on the side of the little shack with the poorly lit sign, reading Crow Bar. My wrists are free, my suit is not ripped in shreds, because the fantasy was not real. What happens next is a different story.

Two beers on the bar. Two stools almost touching. The playful leg action from the truck is renewed as we sip our Coors. I tell Franco to tell me all his troubles. (I can be very comforting when I want.) The bar is crowded, some familiar faces, no one I’m worried about seeing. I’m “out” at work anyway, so who cares who sees me here with this hot, hung, hunky guy? I see men going through the curtain of felt that hangs over the back room’s doorway. I ask Franco if he knows what’s back there.

“There are faggots back there fuckin’ each others assholes raw. You gotta be careful walkin’ in there, it’s so fuckin’ skanky. Wanna see?”

My heart skipped. Hell, I think it stopped for a few seconds! I first said no thank-you, but then my careless attitude took over, so I asked him if he wanted to show me something back there. Franco looked at me and smirked. It was cute, but a little nasty. His sly smile showed his thoughts. I had been conquered, I was his piece of meat. I represented authority. He was gonna take revenge on “The Man“.

He took me by the armpit and lifted me off the stool. We walked the few feet to the doorway, Franco in size 12 Timberlands, me on angels wings. Would the real Franco live up to the amazing fantasies I had conjured in my head? I would find out soon.

The back room was not exactly as I remembered. The vinyl was gone, and it was divided into cubicles about 6’ by 6’. Franco and I entered one of the rooms, and instantly a dick appeared in the gloryhole on the wall.

“Fuck off, shitface, I got me a bitch, don’t need your little worm stickin’ his eye at me!”

A giggle from beyond the wall, then silence. Franco took me up in his arms and put me down on the Aerobed in the corner. He was predictably strong, but surprisingly tender. I had steeled myself for anything, including rough stuff. Did I expect him to beat me up? Slap me around? I was getting none of that so far. He began to undress me. I guessed it wasn’t going to be just a quick blowjob and a silent ride home. I lay there naked in front of him. My blonde hair was tousled, falling into my eyes. In the dim light, Franco could probably just make out my pale, downy blonde chest hairs. I wondered if he would find my light body hair unattractive. Some big guys like their partners smooth, like a true bitch. He began to stroke my shoulders, caressing my chest, and reached down to take one tit, and then the other into his warm mouth. I shivered! He looked up at me and laughed softly. His clothing fell off his body like they were tissue paper. I don’t remember his head even leaving my chest, and miraculously he was naked and hovering over me.

His body was more awesome than I could have imagined. His dark, oily hair was mussed up, and the entire head was falling into ringlets. His eyes still had that sleepy look, like he was dreaming of me. Franco’s shoulders were broad, hairless and muscular (from lifting a lot of boxes). His chest had that curly, black hair I saw peeking over his shirt, and it continued down his abs to his belly button, which happens to be a gorgeous “outtie”. As he removed his pants, and then his white cotton briefs, I could see that I had underestimated his dimensions. He was easily 11 inches, the girth and dark color of his prick made it look like an Italian eggplant. The hair continued into a thick bush over his cock, and trailed off softly on either side onto his inner thighs. How I hungered for that mighty eggplant! He took a condom out of a bowl on the floor. So he was planning on fucking me.

Franco finally pulled my face firmly to his, and I felt his tongue enter my mouth. I could still feel the scars on his cheek as I held his face to mine, and wondered what bitch did such a violent thing to this incredibly passionate man. I felt something push against my groin. His huge cock was pressing between my legs, just under my sweaty balls. It slid into the warm spot between my legs smoothly. It seemed that he was not actually moving, but instead rocking me, with his large arms and well-developed pecs, back and forth underneath him. My legs were loose at either side of his torso, and as he put his wrists under my knees both legs flipped upward, and I found myself doubled over with his monster cock wedged firmly in my ass cheeks.

‘I’m gonna stick you now. It’s gonna hurt some, but if you wanna be my cunt tonight, you’ll have to deal wid’ it.”

His massive dick was as hard as a metal pipe. He was now rocking me harder, pushing my shoulders deep into the mattress, lifting me higher off the bed with each upstroke. The red -hot tip of his poker was burning against my asshole, and I started to see little white flashes in the back of my eyes. I opened up a little, and Franco took advantage of it by pushing his dick half-way into my rectum. I screamed out in agony, which brought more giggles from the room next door. He stopped, and relaxed on top of me, with his cock partially buried in my body.

We didn’t remain still for long. It was actually me that started to rock forward again. Franco took the cue, understanding that the pain had subsided. He kept my legs tightly folded over my shoulders, and started to nuzzle my neck. I know hickies are for kids, but I was sure he was intent on giving me one. His prick inched forward into the soft interior of my rectum. My prostate was jumping for joy. Then I felt him retreat. His dick popped out of my asshole. He hadn’t gotten off! Did I disappoint him? Why was he stopping?

He stood up in the middle of the room, and pulled off the condom. I guessed we were going home now. It was nice while it lasted. Wham-Bam, thank you fag. He pulled me up, off the mattress and held me against his chest. My face was buried in the pommade-greased rings over his ears. He whispered in my ear.

“I want you to suck me off the rest of the way. How deep do you think you can take me?”

I’m not the best cock-sucker in the world. I’m mostly passive greek. But damn, if I wasn’t gonna give this blow-job everything I had! Franco’s body had a sheen, from the sweat that was forming over his entire body. His chest hairs were dripping, and his mound of pubic hair was matted down with perspiration. I was enraptured. He pushed down firmly on my shoulders, telling me that it was time to get to business. He was close to ejaculating, his cock was bulging. The veins on the shaft were swollen and red. The tip of his uncut cock dangled in front of my nose. He still had his hands on my shoulders and he started to push me around, on my knees, to face away from him. I didn’t understand until he grabbed my head and tilted it back. My throat was open in front of him, he was going to fuck my face.

Franco’s meaty dick went in a few inches, and I gagged. He stopped long enough for me to catch my breath, then continued to push into my throat. My jaw ached, his tool was fat and filled me completely. I kept taking it, inch after inch. I was surprised that I could do this- he was good! He knew when to stop, when to push. Finally, It rounded the bend at the back of my throat. if I still had tonsils, they would have been shoved down my throat. Gently, so I could continue breathing through my nose, he started to pull out, then pause, then push back in, more aggressively each time. I got the rhythm and it was getting easier. I started to jerk myself off. Unbelievably, his cock seemed to get larger in my mouth, as his cum came flowing up the shaft and shot right down to my belly.

“You are a filthy, son-of-a-bitch faggot cocksucker! You’re gonna goddam choke on my jizz tonight! I’m coooooooming!”

We drove back to the store. Neither of us wanted to talk much, although Franco apologized for the remarks he made as his cum flowed deep into my throat in repeated waves of thick creamy orgasm. I knew it was part of the game we played that night, His disappointment and anger being relieved at my expense. I wanted to tell him I enjoyed the whole trip, that he could take his frustration out on me anytime. The store was dark when we got back, so we kissed in the flatbed of his pickup for a few minutes before I got back in my car.

“I’ll see you in the stockroom tomorrow, man?’