These are short stories about male prostitution, "one night stands," involving guys. If the idea of that turns you off, or if you are underage, please read no further. Otherwise, please enjoy.
All characters and events are fictional.
You can reach the author at macoutmann@yahoo.com. He appreciates your input and will answer all your emails.
Reading the story is free, but if you wish to keep this service available to all, please make a contribution to nifty.org. Thank you.
HUSTLER TALES I
A NIGHT IN MEMPHIS
by Macout Mann
I was in Memphis once. Not hard even in a big city to find where to hang out to hustle. A good place to start always used to be the bus station. In Memphis the bus station is right near one of the country's most famous hotels. So I'm hanging on a side street down by the Peabody and this car stops next to me. Late model sporty coupe. I go over and ask, "Do I know you?" (That's always a good line, in case the dude's somebody you wouldn't want to be with or somebody you think might be a cop.)
"No, but I might like to get to know you," was his reply. Here was a dude in his 40s, but hot as hell. Dressed in a Polo shirt and jeans, he obviously worked out. And he was drop dead handsome. "Would you like to go for a ride?"
"Wouldn't mind," I responded, and opened the door and plopped down in the passenger seat.
He gunned the engine and sped up to Beale Street, then down toward the riverfront. He reached over and fondled my crotch and asked, "So what're you up to tonight?"
"Depends," I answered. "I gotta make some money somehow."
"I figured," he said. "I need a dude to spend the night with . Could be worth fifty bucks." Then he added, "You had anything to eat tonight?"
"Shit, man, I aint had anything to eat for a coupla days."
"The Krystal has pretty good burgers," he offered.
Turning up Union Avenue, he headed for the nearest cheap burger joint. "Dude," I said, "aint none of my business, but you aint really the type to be out looking for a dick to buy. Guys'd be falling all over your ass."
"I'm a Navy Officer," he responded. "In charge of recruiting around here. I can't get involved with anybody that knows me. They might "tell," if you know what I mean. But every so often, I gotta be with a man. So I get myself a motel and go looking. And you turn me on, dude. I hope I can turn you on too."
He bought a sack full of Krystals and as we ate them he said that if anybody he knew saw us, he would say that I was a potential recruit he was trying to get to join the Navy. As we headed back to his car, he asked if I was cool with his proposition. I said, "Why not? For fifty, sure enough."
He drove out near the airport. A medium priced motel where you can park right next to your room. He led the way in. Once in he pulled me close and rammed his tongue into my ear. "You're a sexy bastard," he said.
I was wearing a chambray shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes. Nothing else. Maybe that was one reason he was hot for me. I looked like a navyman. He unbuttoned my shirt and caressed my pecs, then nibbled on each of them. I learned a long time ago to let the john take the lead. Don't wanna do anything to piss him off. He slipped my shirt off and let it fall to the floor.
"You've got a nice bod," he said.
"Thanks," I replied.
"Strip me," he ordered.
"Sure," I said. I pulled his shirt over his head. His hard chest and gut were laced with dark fuzz. I undid his buckle, unzipped his jeans, and revealed his hard throbbing dick, which was surrounded by an ample nest of pubic hair.
"Nice tool," I said.
"Thanks. I can tell yours is too," he said. And he undid my jeans and let them fall around my ankles. He fondled my balls and played with my already hard dick. "Damn," he said, "I love to feel a hard dick."
"Feels good," I replied.
He led me to the king-sized bed, where we finished stripping, that is we took off our shoes. He pushed me down on my back, kissed my pecs again and licked my pits clean. Then he felt up.....and down every inch of me. I could tell he was totally in love.....with mansex.
He pleasured my bod for the longest time before, pausing for a minute, he said, "You know, recruiting duty is supposed to be the greatest. For me it's pure hell. All those hot kids in the office every day. I can hardly keep my hands off of 'em. And then this hot QM1 comes on board about three months ago. I'm almost sure he's gay, but I sure as hell can't come on to him. And he's not about to come on to me. Back when I was an Ensign, though, a young Yeoman did come on to me and we had some fun times. I had less to lose back then"
He obviously wanted me to reciprocate, so I tongued his ear and nibbled his nipples. I never go any further in messing around than the john does.
His passion had reached the point where he had to have my dick, and he swallowed it in one quick gulp. Man, did he know how to suck! Put me in fucking ecstasy. I hadn't come in a coupla days, so it wasn't long before I was filling his throat with my creamy manhood. Bells ringing in my head! The whole bit!
He lay beside my limp body, this time kissing it all over with his cum-soaked lips. It wasn't long before I was erect again. I rolled him onto his back this go around and fucked his face with slow, smooth strokes. And he began jacking, matching my rhythm stroke for stroke. I made it last as long as I could, but when I felt his cum splatter on my asscheeks, I let drop another load almost as big as the first.
That was when he got up and fished a pack of condoms out of his jeans. "I gotta have that dick up my ass," he said.
"Give me a little time to recover," I told him. "Besides, don't you want me to give you head?"
"If you want," he responded. "I'm more of a bottom myself."
So we cuddled for almost a half hour. Then he began to tweak my tool until he could roll a plastic hood over it. "Fuck me hard, dude," was all he said.
He took me in one thrust. Didn't even grunt. "Feels heavenly," he panted.
I was able to make it last for over twenty minutes, him chanting "yes, yes" each time I rammed it home. I remember dropping my load and feeling my dick go soft in his hot hole, before I went to sleep, still hugging his chest with my arms.
When his wake-up call got us up, we were still clutching each other, my face buried in his hairy chest. We showered together, then he retrieved his uniform from the trunk of his car. Looked straight as an arrow in his suntans with his shoulder boards, sporting a star and three stripes, glistening gold on black. (I later learned he was a Lieutenant Commander, not that it mattered.) We had breakfast at a nearby diner. He paid me and said I could use the room until checkout time, or he'd take me back downtown. I chose to head back.
He dropped me about ten feet from where he'd picked me up the night before. We shook hands and he said he'd enjoyed talking to me and hoped I'd give serious consideration to joining the Navy.
Copyright 2011, 2013 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved.