Work Text:
There had to be a double-take when meeting Alfred Jones. His tall frame was packed with muscles like a comic-book superhero masquerading with an innocuous day job. His thick rimmed glasses also made it impossible to not make even more obvious comparisons.
Strong jaw, dimpled cheeks, and a cleft chin came to view—each like a bullet through one’s armor of dignity. The bronze Adonis must have been 6’3” at the very least. And his radiant locks of gold would fall over his brows in effortless waves as the man toweled his neck.
“Mornin’!” His voice was a husky baritone waxed with a sweet southern twang. His good-natured chuckle perplexingly relaxes and excites the customer. Fireworks went off and hearts raced.
He moves the towel to his brows. His had a jumpsuit with the top half zipped off and tied just above his tool belt. His white shirt left little to the imagination as its soaked surface clung greedily to his astonishing physique.
“I’m the repairman you ordered.” He says, emphasizing the tool belt whilst one’s eyes are almost exclusively drawn to the large bulge just beneath it.
“Heard you had somethin’ clogged I could fix and—!”
Pause.
He freezes, mouth snouted to a circle and eyes open comically wide. He was leaning on the door frame, wisps of his pit hair peeking out of the tight short sleeves of his damp shirt.
A drop of sweat falls from his stubbled chin.
Alfred is a sexy cowboy who’s lost his way in the suburbs—
“Sorry for intrudin’ but…” his drawl thickens to the point of caricature as he sprouts a large Stetson. His shirt warps into a decorated collared long-sleeve filled with stars and scrolling leaves. The tools minimize into nothing as a large belt buckle sat on top of his chapped jeans.
“I thought turnin’ a left down Maple Road would lead me to Rancherville, but this rancher here is lost…” he thumbs to himself with an earnest grin.
Delete.
His clothes swipe back to normal from his cap down to his work boots. “Can I come in, sir?” His accent lightens considerably but the alluring lift remind in his strong baritone.
Alfred liked wearing booty shorts and cropped shirts when working.
The man walks in. His exposed ass jiggled when his torn jeans shrunk into shorts that barely went past his groins. And it seemed, quite astonishingly, his ass was the same perfectly toffee color as the rest of him was.
His shirt went up a good three inches, exposing his chiseled abs and the teasing trail of hair leading to his ample package.
As a repairman, Alfred loves greeting his clients with a big kiss on the lips.
Alfred turns and gives a kiss like no other—earnest, turgid, and thorough. His breath tasted like coffee and breakfast and spearmint.
“It’s always a great way to start the day with a kiss, I reckon.” He winks. He lets go and then continues on down the hall but unable to move anywhere beyond his demarcated spot until—
A repairman like him would also let their client grab his muscled tits provocatively and make them massage them while calling them whorish names.
He guides hands to his muscled melons and begins flexing one at a time slowly. “Touch this pec racks! These muscle milkers sure do feel heavy, huh? Are my tough tiddies good for you? They’re so thick and bouncy, so much muscle and taut skin!”
Alfred realizes that the client is the one with a clogged hole—it’s a smooth, supple ass that needs to be unclogged with his cock.
Alfred shakes his head, pulling the body close. His large, work-roughed hands grab the ass on the other body, in the process smacking them.
“Sir!” A lightbulb goes off, “you’re ass…it’s clogged! Well I’ll be…” he continues to shake the mounds, “it’s so tight…luckily I have the best pipe for the job!”
He steps back and pulls down what’s barely a pair of denim shorts down to his ankles. Even when soft, his perfect cock was simply big.
“Lemme just warm it up.” He says as he tweaks his nipple while jerking his cock.
The best way to prepare a cock for declogging an ass is to have the client smell and worship the repairman’s armpit!
Alfred brings one arm behind his head. “Hey…yeah, sir. Get in there!” He nods encouragingly.
His smell hits like a drug, pheromones thick and potent with salt and a deep musk. His sweat was sour and even unctuous. Tongue laps dutifully as the gorgeous man moaned.
His sex rose into a large, curved pipe that throbbed hungrily. Alfred growled, teeth bared into a smirk.
His cock self-lubricates, ensuring that the client will only ever have a pleasurable experience.
Alfred turns the body around and easily aims with his giant rod into the tight hole. His member glistened as every pore trickled out a sweet, clear lubricant.
“Oh fuck yeah, sir! This hole really is tight!” He groans. Once he bottoms out, he began to fuck into the client roughly. The prostate was lovingly stroked in the process as the dazzling hunk continued his beastly pace.
Cums buckets of cummmmanddddsogooddddtasteandddxjxoxoza
Alfred snaps his hips, driving his cock deep. “Hggnnn. Yeah, that’s it…take all of it…all of my fucking…” he sighs through gritted teeth as he deposits buckets-worth of cum, expanding holes and stomachs.
Whimpers. Loud mashing of the keyboards.
Alfred roars, loud shouts of ecstasy as his balls busted out wad after wad of cum.
Jansncndhdbxbsbayesyeysyesyyeysmoreeeee
His blue eyes roll back and his body twitches uncontrollably, his reality shifting and pulling him every which way with each string of letters mashed.
Error.
Error.
Clothes change in rapid succession from busy neons to clean suits to scrubs to togas to—
Error.
Error.
“Come on, ride ‘em! Here’s your order, sir! I’m sorry but that is not the godly thing to—! Wanna join my cult?”
Document was not saved.
Alfred disappears, leaving a gut full of cum leaking out in wet squelches. Writhing continued on the floor with legs as wobbly and useless as a newborn’s. The room was empty save for delirious moans from a body still haunted and overridden by the pleasure of being fucked so completely.
Eyes grew tired. Mind grew blank. Sleep won over.
End.
The pin-pricks of the stubble were remedied with the sweetness of freshly brushed teeth for one’s morning wake-up. The heat radiating from the freshly-jogged and pumped muscles made for a lovely contrast to the cold sheets.
“Morning, babe!” Alfred says with his smooth baritone. His dimples sink with his gentle sunshine smile.
Even after changing into a fresh pair of more snuggle-appropriate clothes, fresh sweat dot the front of his gray shirt. He smelled good—pine soap and a hint of musk.
His muscles were plenty to touch and crave. He presses down on a cum-filled belly, pushing out a splooge of cum.
He laughs, sweet as a new dawn. “Oooh, baby. You did some wild things to me last night.”
Alfred slides down and puts legs over his broad shoulders. He remembers all the kinky scenarios he was made to live through from the Delivery Man delivering his package to the Preacher spreading His seed to the regular old Himbo who simply came to bust a nut over an appreciative face.
He laughs darkly, feeling his hard cock spring at the naughtiness afforded by the reality-changing tablet they had gotten. Good thing it was damaged. Or else, he didn’t know what changes would have happened to him.
But the danger that posted…
His cock leaked for a second before sinking back into the real moment—one that lived beyond the pages. He could give his sex better than any persona that could be concocted. He was the only Alfred Jones and with his free will and all his faculties in check, he was the only fucker that needed to exist.
“But I think that when you’re with me, reality…” he says, eyes dark with lustful intent. His smirk was sharp and cocky and all the more mesmerizing.
“Is far better than fiction.” He winks and descends to eat up his leftover cum.
The reality-altering tablet stood on the nightstand, chipped and unable to function. It reflected the scene before it with the beautiful hunk descending upon a creamed up ass.
The loud moan from the unbelievably wicked tonguing made it clear that the tablet could finally be put to rest as it fades out of existence.