Grunt Posted June 1, 2010 Report Posted June 1, 2010 Click here to see Gruntraq's original blog post... This is an erotic story that came out of a true set of circumstances and a hookup, but has been embellished a bit for good reading. Continued from Tripping With And Ex-Con 2 What a fuck? He comes to my place demands a blow job and leaves. Why I was so fucking turned on about being used like this spun my head. Steve finally dropped by my pad around 10:30 and dropped off my sack of weed and left, saying he was tired and wanted to crash. The following Saturday we morning crossed paths in the parking lot and he told me there was going to be a keg party at his place that night. “You should come, I have a surprise for you,” he said with a shit eating grin. I shuddered to imagine what it could be. I like getting down with Steve, but he still put me on edge. The guy was still a volatile character I had seen get in a drunken rage blowing holes in people’s apartment doors with a shot gun because he thought someone stole his hunting knife. That night my room-mate Greg and I cruised over to Steve’s place. Greg was straight and had no idea I liked getting it on with dudes. He was a good looking guy at 20 - athletic, clean cut and pretty sexy but he had a girlfriend and baby back home and made fun of fags a lot so I hadn’t gone there. I wasn’t worried about Steve outing me with Greg as I felt he had as much to lose as I did. But it would happen sooner than later as it turned out. We got there and the place was already slammed. Keg parties in the dorms were standing room only affairs that spilled out into the parking lot. People were standing around and partying outside, and a line of young rednecks with empty cups led into the apartment. We worked our way in and began partaking. We spent an hour or so hanging out, getting a good buzz on and talking with friends. I finally saw ex-con Steve standing in the crowd outside in the hot sticky Texas summer night air. All he was wearing was a pair of ragged looking 501’s with tattered pant legs dragging over his bare feet. I got a spring in my nuts watching beads of sweat roll down his tattooed chest into his loose hanging pants. Skulls, barbed wire, demons and spider webs covered almost every inch of his upper torso. He held a pint of Jack Daniels about half gone, hitting it like soda as he chatted with a small group. I noticed the big mean looking black thug standing with him, a man I hadn’t seen before. He stood nearly as tall as Steve but was built like a house, at least 290 lbs. Not overly muscular, he was just girthy with a big huge ass and thighs. He had a mean ass gansta like demeanor. His movements were shifty and he looked at everyone like some kind of mark. He was wearing a tied off do-rag, a black T-Shirt and loose sweats. Greg was off talking to some chick so I went over to Steve. He threw out a deft sock in the arm to greet me. He turned to the big black slab of beef next to him and introduced him, “This is Roddy, a friend of mine from Oregon.” The guy had this cynical look of disinterest on his face as he sized me up and shook my hand. He looked every bit an ex-con as Steve did. Sensing my apprehension Steve added. “He’s cool bro. We did time together at State. He came down to visit for the weekend”. Oh that made me feel better. Steve offered me a hit off his bottle of Jack which I obliged. We made some small talk while the thug kept looking me over. After a few minutes Steve put his hand on my shoulder and whispered in my ear, “Rod’s got some killer green bud from Oregon, we should go smoke some” Feeling better about his shifty buddy I replied, “Sure” Steve then shifted his eyes around the crowd and asked, “Can we go to your apartment. I don’t want everyone here to know about it”. Suspicious, I agreed and we began to covertly sneak away from the crowd and into the darkness. Once at my place we sat around the kitchen table. Steve was acting a little on edge asking we keep the lights off so nobody would know we were there. We toked a joint of some of the most mind slamming weed I have ever experienced. I was spinning out of control from the nasty shit after only a couple hits and could not take anymore. Steve and Rod finished it up as I sat there trying breathe calmly and reel in my raging synapses. I got up to grab a beer in the kitchen and Steve followed. As I began to opened up the fridge Steve gently pushed himself against my backside pinning me against the kitchen counter. Reaching his arms around me he grabbed at my package with one hand and pinched at my left tit with the other. Breathing heavy into my ear and brushing his mustache across my neck he said, “Let's to get it on dude.” I tensed up and tried breaking his grip, but he squeezed me tighter and pushed his groin into my ass. “But what about Rod?” I whispered nervously. “Roddy?” He let out a burst of air through his nose while his rough whiskers scrubbed over my shoulder, and giggled under his breath. “Rod wants some of that tight little pussy of yours too,” Steve whispered in a teasing tone. I tensed up and tried even more to resist his advance. “Oh come on bro, you know what they say….once you try black you can’t ever go back.” I protested half heartedly, “You told him about us? Dude, I don’t even know him”. Laughing he pushed the refrigerator door shut and said, “He’s my bro, trust me. I vouch for him. We spent a year in a cell together. We don’t hide no shit from each other. I wouldn’t throw you to the wolves”. Nervously I went along and said, “Ok”. Steve motioned to Rod saying “Come on”. The three of us walked into the dark bed area. “Sit down and relax”, Steve said as Rod stepped up to his side. Rod looked me over while rubbing his package, “Steve says you give killer head”. I just sat there while my heart raced looking at him and back at Steve. “Don’t worry, he ain’t gonna hurt ya. He knows how to give it out nice and easy don’t ya Roddy?” Steve said as he clasped my skull with his rough hand. Steve was unbuttoned his 501’s while Rod was digging his cock from his baggy sweats. “Show him your shit!” Steve jibbed Rod. The black ex-con pulled out a downright scary weapon of a cock. It was everything I had imagined a big black cock would be. It had to be at least 2” in diameter and looked to be about 8-9” half hard. I let out a sigh of nervous energy while Steve finished peeling his boots and 501’s off. “Go on, touch it bro!” Steve chided, “Check out that big black man cock!” I slowly wrapped my sweaty palm around Rod’s huge meat stick. My hand barely wrapped around his shaft, my fingers and thumb did not meet on the backside as I gently pumped him. It didn’t even feel like a normal dick. Steve stepped up next to him and slapped Rod’s cock with his. He then looked down at me and ordered, “Get your clothes off! We’re gonna turn you out!” I was reeling from a combination of being stoned off my ass like never before, nervous, scared and exposed to these to ex-con thugs. As I slowly began pulling off my clothes, Steve and Rock engaged in a short bit of mutual hand and cock action and squeezed each others tits. These two butch ex-cons slapping their dicks together turned me on good for the first time tonight. Continued Here More...
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