MP-120 Hunky Linesman
Hunky Linesman
Manpower
(same as SS-055)
MP-120
Bruce Fields
$3.95
Excerpt
Lonnie’s face reddened. He stood in the middle of that dimly lit garage, surrounded by that big group of heavy-breathing bikers, his body crouched, his fists clenched, his breathing shallow and raspy. Panic was in his eyes. The bikers knew this was the best time to get him.
“Move!” Burt suddenly shouted. Before Lonnie could realize what that order meant, he felt a pair of hands knock him roughly in the shoulders, sending him pitching forward and stumbling to the cement floor. When Lonnie hesitated about getting up Burt reached down and filled his palm with the boy’s silky blond strands. Curling them around his fingers, her jerked the kid close. Lonnie grunted in pain, his mouth hitting the side of his boot hard. His lips cracked. He could taste blood. Burt growled, and suddenly all that nervous energy disappeared.
The bikers laughed as Burt let go and stepped back. Lonnie rolled onto his ass and stared at the big trucker, reaching back with both hands and scooting away from him. The kid watched as Burt raised one hand, keeping it above his head as he advanced on him. Lonnie was breathing hard, his eyes fixed on the big hard-on he could see pressing against the trucker’s chaps. Damn, he was bigger than Jack!
“Yeah, baby, we’re gonna have lots of fun with you,” the trucker growled. His thick lips pulled back across his teeth as the hand came down hard, slicing through the air. The force of that blow made Lonnie’s head snap back and his body roll to one side.
“The little fucker likes it,” Jack muttered, noticing a bulge in his Levi’s. It was the same way in the van—Lonnie protesting all the time and loving every second of it.
“Tell you what. Since you’re the one who brought ’im, I’ll let you have first crack at the kid. Then he’s ours,” Burt said, narrowing his eyes and smiling at his buddy. Jack grinned back, grinding his teeth together in excitement- and staring at the cringing kid.
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