GE-215 Wild Stud
Wild Stud
Gay Erotica
GE-215
$3.95
Wild Stud
Gay Erotica
GE-215
$3.95
Excerpt
“Guido ” he kept repeating, as did they. “Goo-wee-doe.” It was malicious, this baiting, and while the Italian was a husky and hairy-chested dude with a good set of muscles of his own, he was no match for all four gang members combined, pumped up with anabolics.
Sure enough, the mockery got to Jerry and he tried to end it by taking a swing at the leader of the pack, Kirk. Exactly what Kirk and his buddies were waiting for, the dark-eyed surfer dancing out of the way while Scott, Craig and Chad grabbed the infuriated young wop (to use their term) from behind, the first two each pinning a bulging arm, locking it down, the third taking a handful of Jerry’s hair in his fist.
“Oo, oo, oo,” Kirk said, tsking in front of the imprisoned exchange student now being forced down onto his knees, Jerry grunting and whimpering as he tried to fight himself free of their snickering brutality. “Is that any way to get make friends in a new country? Here we’re just trying to learn how to say your name right and you go for my chin. Not nice, making me so scared I’m sweating like a fuckin’ pig. Look.”
The gang’s uncontested leader raised his brawny arm, the vein-popping bicep tattoo’d with a mi vida lorca over set of crossed weapons—one AK-47, smoking, one dagger, bloody. “N-nnoohh, you bastard,” Jerry blathered as Craig’s remorseless fist moved him forward against his will, bringing his face closer and closer into that stinking hollow, unwashed and fetid.
“I just want you to see what you made me do,” Kirk told him, unrelenting despite—or perhaps because of—the panic in the Italian’s blue eyes. “It’s only fair, considering you’re the cause of it, man.”
“Let… me… go…!” But they weren’t about to let him go, Chad and Scott bringing their own musclepower into play, inexorably moving the prisoner’s contorted face into the Kirk’s raunchy pit.
“Look,” the big surfer was suggesting. “Look how disgusting you made the fuzz in there, all sticky and slimy. Smell it.”
“Aww, shit, man, stop—!”
“You caused it, you smell it,” Kirk demanded, using his own free hand to help Craig force Jerry’s nose and mouth further forward, the lips now making first contact with the tops of the hairs that made up the matted rain forest. “You like that, Guido? You turned on by the stench, huh? You go crazy over what a guy gets to smell like when he don’t use deodorant?”
“Hey,” Chad leered, his fingers grinding deeply into the skin of the captive’s own knotting biceps. “If Guido digs armpit, shee-it, man, he’s gonna go nutso once he gets a good whiff of my balls.”
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