By Master Red
Disclaimer: This story contains explicit sexual interaction between men, all of which are consensual and of legal age. All names and some of the descriptions, attributes or characteristics of individuals have been changed or altered to protect the identity and privacy of actual people or person(s) encountered.
You need to be of legal age in your jurisdiction to read this story.
Copyright 2014 Nuttnhoney. This story -- in whole or part -- are property of the author and may not be copied and reposted, published or used in part without written permission of the author. Nuttnhoney reserves all rights to the story written herein.
Comments, suggestions, critiques both pro and con are encouraged, welcomed and appreciated, please send to: mrnuttnhoney@gmail.com
Thug Love: Pt 1
I got out of my car (in not the safest part of town) to hook up with a guy for some "Thug love".
This was not exactly da hood but I could see it from where I stood.
After double-checking to make sure my car was locked I started to rethink my decision to meet at his place instead of mine.
I walked quickly amongst the many low-rise, red brick buildings that all looked alike (which is common to low-income housing) to locate my tricks unit number and ground floor apt.
I was beginning to wonder if "I" was the one who was going to be tricked.
But, the allure of his body and potential to be deep inside a hot, muscular black ass overwhelmed any caution I might usually exhibit.
His profile copy on A4A read in part:
"I am 24 years old, 225 pounds of dark hard hot masculine muscle...100% natural no juice just iron and shear dedication to the human body. You love muscle? You want to feel what rock hard really feels like?
Will do what it takes to please, more of a dick man than an ass man. Looking for a good strong hung top. Love oral. Say hey.
Like to hit the gym. Xtreme workout partners wanted. Sci-fi anime fan.
Bttms, I am flattered but no thanks."
Vers/bttm, Safe Sex Only, HIV Negative, Prefer meeting at: My Place.
He did not have a face pic online and was reluctant to send me one at first but he finally relented and texted a pic after some cajoling.
He was very handsome in a 50 Cent sort of way.
Why these "DL-slash-down low-slash-urban for closeted" guys are so worried about someone seeing their face escapes me.
Who do they think they are? Famous Rappers?
Do they think someone is going to contact the media and put their pictures (and preferences) on B.E.T., The Wendy Williams Show "Hot Topics" or Inside Edition?
He insisted that I "be discreet" and "not put his business out in the streets" and of course I agreed to all (who was I gonna tell?.... besides, I did not promise I would not write about it).
No matter, just the thought of licking his muscles and massaging his prostate with my dik was enough motivation to continue.
Our msgs back/forth online were few and he was less than verbose in his replies but not much has to be communicated once you have established who is going to roll over and when/where you are going to fuck.
So, I ventured out to hook up with the tatted up, bottom body builder who said he was horny for some dik.
Actually, what he wrote was, "Des cakes need to be smashed" and I was only too happy to oblige.
It had been a while since I had some ass (well, a week was awhile for me). So my cum soaked brain was anxious to discharge the seven day load stored in my ball sac.
So I was less focused on the "Rules of the Road when Tricking" that I had learned and taught myself over the years than sticking my dik inside something warm.
I knocked on the door of the apt number that he gave me, adjusted myself, checked my pockets to make sure I had remembered my lube (WET) and rubbers (Magnum XL) satisfied that I was 'ready' I stuck a nonchalant pose and waited for him to answer.
So, imagine my surprise when the door across the hall opened and a head popped out.
It was Mascmusc, waving for me to come over to him.
I turned and walked the short distance to where he stood in his doorway. I could see that he was wearing nothing but his tat covered muscles and a towel casually covering his junk.
Puzzled, I asked if I had gotten the apartment number wrong somehow and he said, "No, you got it right. I just do that so I can check 'dude' out before I open my door."
"Umm, okay", I thought to myself.
If that makes sense to him then sure, why not, who am I to judge eccentric behavior.
Then he withdrew into the dark interior of the apartment to make room for me to pass.
As I entered the acrid smell of pot wafted through my nostrils, mixed with his freshly showered flesh.