Eddie’s Special Sale (Part 6)

“I can’t believe it fuckin’ happened again,” Ralph said, and peeled the wad of paper towels away from his nose, “How does it look?”

“Broken,” Eddie said, “But here, I know how to help that.”

Before Ralph could tell him no, Eddie grabbed the broken nose in his fingers and twisted it back into place, making Ralph howl in pain, eyes watering, nose gushing blood all over again. “Fuck! That fucking hurt, you fucker!”

“Well, at least it’s straight…er,” Eddie said, “I’ll go get you some ice.”

He’d woken on the garage floor in a pool of blood, Eddie slapping his face and trying to get him to respond. His nose hurt like hell; Eddie had tried to catch him when he’d fallen forward, but Ralph had been too heavy for him. He’d helped him up and brought him inside, where they were trying to get the bleeding under control, and Ralph was trying to figure out what had happened. He’d fainted again, he could remember that…but the events leading up to it were just…blank. He was mostly pissed he’d gotten blood on his leather vest–sure, it wasn’t the first time he’d gotten blood on it, but still. Eddie returned with a bag of ice that Ralph gingerly pressed to his nose, and sighed.

“You know, usually the best thing for an injury is something to distract you,” Eddie said. Ralph wanted to ask what he had in mind, but he felt the hand unzipping the fly of the filth crusted jeans he had on under his leather chaps, and decided he could use a little pleasure after all this…even if this wasn’t quite what he’d had in mind, when he’d come here, planning on getting into Eddie’s pants. That…is what he’d been planning, right? Eddie pulled his cock free of the filthy jock he had on, and started sucking it clean. Ralph moaned, and the pain in his nose did ease up a little bit, and he started rocking forward and back, the dildo lodged in his ass under his jeans grinding against his prostate. He didn’t last particularly long, and Eddie seemed happy to swallow down the full load of biker cum, and then some. He stood back up, and dropped his own pants, letting his own cock loose in Ralph’s face.

“Man, I ain’t suckin’ your cock with a broken nose.”

“I just sucked yours, fucker.”

“I thought that was a pity suck!”

They fought, and Ralph eventually relented to a compromise, bent over the side of the couch, and let Eddie pull the six inch dildo from his hole and give him a good fucking, which did help with the pain too, Ralph decided, though he didn’t admit it out loud. Eddie eventually came, and then slipped the dildo back in.

“Not quite how I thought this afternoon was going to go,” he admitted, getting his jeans and chaps sorted out around his fat ass again.

“Heh, well, I did have something else I wanted to give you…or rather, I thought you might want to give it to someone else,” Eddie said. “I mean, if you like it, go ahead and wear it, but I think that would be a bit of a waste.”

Ralph gave him a confused look; Eddie refused to elaborate, but handed him a small box. He opened the lid, and found a thick chain inside and a padlock, long enough to turn into a necklace–although why that was the first thing he thought of, he couldn’t say. Still…he was wary of touching it, and put the lid back on the box. “I don’t understand…”

“Hey, it’s almost done, and you’ve done so well Ralph, really.”

“I…I never told you my name. How do you know that, anyway?”

Eddie winked. “Look, I hate to cut this short, but I really need to get myself packed up, you know? How’s the bleeding? You good to ride?”

“I’ve ridden with worse,” Ralph said, and with a hand from Eddie he got up from the couch, and handed him the ice pack, “Can I at least rinse the blood from my beard?”

“Hell, take a shower if you want.”

Ralph laughed, “I don’t fuckin’ take showers.”

Eddie showed him to the sink, Ralph carefully rinsed the clotted blood from his beard, and then left through the front door, box in hand, but when he got to the sidewalk, next to his Harley, he looked back, and his jaw dropped. The house…the house was gone. Well, not gone, but…abandoned. It looked like it had been foreclosed on years earlier, and no one had moved in since…but then…how had…

It was like he was grasping at straws. He could remember Eddie, but everything else, it was a blur, including his life. He had a bike, but where was he supposed to go? He didn’t have a home, he didn’t…didn’t have anything, really. Just a box with a chain inside. It was hard to remember, but hadn’t he been…a student? Yeah, he could kind of remember a dorm room, or something like that. It was, he decided, better than nothing at all. He climbed on his bike, revved it up, and drove off towards campus, hoping he might find an answer there.

Eddie’s Special Sale (Part 5)

It was later than he’d figured, and he was even slower than before. Ralph had to stop at that park again to catch his breath, smoke down a cigar, and also take a moment to shoot a load of cum in his pants, before continuing on towards Eddie’s house…but it was becoming harder to remember why exactly he’d been heading over there. Sure, the sale was still on, but he didn’t really feel like buying anything. In the back of his mind he knew that there was something else, some problem that he’d been wanting Eddie to help him out with, but the exact nature of his problem had slipped from his mind. Still, he…did want to see him, badly. He finally turned the corner of Eddie’s block, just in time to see the big man smoking a cigar, folding up his lawn chair, tucking it inside the garage, and lowering the door.

This caused Ralph to panic, though again he wasn’t sure why, and he hurried his pace as best he could, beard and hair soaked to the scalp with sweat, thighs chaffing in his sodden overalls. “Hey!” he shouted before Eddie could duck inside the closing door, and he waved at him. Eddie looked up and over at the fat, filthy man struggling up his driveway, grinned, and slipped back out.

“Ralph! I didn’t think you were coming today.”

“Sorry, I had a late night, and had a hard time getting up this morning. You closing up for the day already?”

“Already? It’s five.”

Five? Really? Ralph looked up at the sky, and saw the sun had indeed slipped much closer to the horizon that he’d thought. Had…had he had another one of his episodes without realizing it?

“It’s not really a problem,” Eddie continued, “If you wanna take a look around, be my guest, but it’s slim pickings at this point.”

“No, I mean…I…I had something I wanted to ask you, but…well, but I forgot, you see. I’m having…oh that’s…look, you know that first day? Saturday? When I fainted? Did…did anything about that seem, I don’t know, strange to you?”

“You mean, aside from you fainting?” Eddie laughed, smoke chuffing out of his mouth, and the smell of the fumes nearly made Ralph groan around his own cigar.

“I mean, did I, like, change at all?”

Eddie cocked an eyebrow and his head to one side, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Hell, I’m not sure what I mean either, but it happened again yesterday, after I left, and…and I’m just a bit worried, is all.”

“Look, why don’t you come on inside, and we’ll…talk about it, eh?” Eddie said. “Plus, I do have some stuff in the garage I think a guy like you might appreciate–not many customers come along with your tastes, you know?”

“My…tastes?”

Eddie rolled his eyes and stepped in the garage, “Come on, I’ll get us a couple of beers, and see if we can sort out your problems.” Ralph followed him, and Eddie pulled the door down after them. Even though the day was brisk, it had been sunny and the garage was stuffy and hot. “Now give me a sec, I gotta dig the stuff out. Take a look around if you want.”

Like Eddie had said, the tables were quite bare, and Eddie, for some reason, didn’t feel much like touching anything on them. In fact, he was doing his best to not touch any of it. He could…remember before, how everything had escalated, how he’d gotten lightheaded before each time here. The only thing he couldn’t resist was a leather biker vest, which was in decent condition even though it was filthy as hell, and some chaps beside it, his heart racing a bit at the feel of the leather in his fingers. Eddie let out a shout, and materialized with a medium sized box and set it on the table. Out of curiosity more than real buyer’s interest, Ralph opened it and started digging through the stuff inside–it too was full of leather…and dildos, and lube, and elbow length rubber gloves and strange looking hoods and masks. He recoiled and stumbled back, his heart jumping into his throat.

“What…what the hell is that shit?” Ralph asked.

“Oh, you know…I was into some kinky stuff when I was a bit younger, I guess I just assumed you were too.”

“I mean, I’m not–”

Eddie set the box down and stepped closer, pushing their guts together like before, Ralph’s cock straining against his jock.

“I know how you feel, how you gotta pretend, but there ain’t no one here now,” Eddie leaned in closer. The air had become choked with their smoke, and Ralph was breathing shallow. He leaned in too, but his face slipped past Eddie’s as he collapsed face first to the concrete floor.

Eddie’s Special Sale (Part 4)

He woke up the next morning, later than even the day before, face down and snoring on his side of the room. He…didn’t quite remember what had happened the night before, very clearly. He was still dressed in his overalls, but they were…damp. Or at least the crotch was…and one leg all the way down to his socks. He only had one boot on. Next to the bed were two bottles of cheap whisky, one empty, the other nearly, which did a lot to explain his raging headache…but where in the hell had he even gotten the booze to begin with? He’d gone to eat dinner and stuffed himself for a couple hours, but when he’d finished and gone back outside to smoke…he’d felt kind of antsy, almost jittery…and walked a little ways off campus to a convenience store where he’d bought the whiskey…he thought. Yeah…he bought it all the time. Sure, he wasn’t twenty-one, but nobody fucking carded him, not with the beard and his hair and his clothes. He yawned, and felt something hard clink against his front teeth, and he covered his mouth with one grimy hand, before sticking out his tongue and feeling the piercing in the middle of it. Where in the fucking hell had that come from? Had he gone out last night? All he could remember was coming back to his room, getting drunk, yelling at his roommate when the guy came home and complained about the booze and smoke, and then nothing else.

He pushed himself up in bed, and he could smell the piss soaked into the bed. In his mind, he knew it should disgust him…and yet, his cock was getting hard in the cold, wet crotch of his overalls, and he rubbed it, unable to help himself. He stood up and looked at himself in the mirror, at the piercings studded all over his face–eyebrows, septum, lips, ears…nipples…cock–and the tattoos covering his arms and chest, and that was all he needed–he freed his cock through the fly and jacked off quickly into the palm of his hand, tugging on the thick gauge PA lodged in the head, licking the cum up afterward, and then lit a cigar, feeling the hangover easing off–finishing off the last bottle of whiskey helped too…and so did whipping out his cock, leaning back on his bed…and pissing up all over himself, feeling it soak into his shirt and coat his belly, running down into the creases of his fat, stinking body…and…and what the hell was he doing?

Seriously, what was he doing?

His body continued, but his mind felt like it had derailed. This wasn’t him, this wasn’t anyone. No one behaved like this, especially not in college. Was…was he even going to college? He had to be right, or else why was he in a dorm room? Classes started tomorrow, but for the life of him he couldn’t recall one piece of the schedule he’d signed up for during orientation the week before. This was wrong, how had any of this even happened?

Eddie. Fuck, just…just thinking of him now, he couldn’t stop himself from jacking his cock again, disturbed at his own behavior, at the volume of his moans, at the delight he was taking it rolling around in the now twice soaked bed, feeling it creak and groan beneath his massive heft. But everything had started with…with that first time he’d fainted. Maybe…Maybe Eddie knew something. Maybe he could tell him something about that, the first time, something that could help him understand what was happening to him. Yeah, he needed to see Eddie, if he could just…just talk…talk to him, he could…could…

He groaned, shooting a massive load all over the front of his overalls, his fat hands grinding it into the fabric along with his piss and sweat. He didn’t…didn’t have any time to waste, before this just got worse. Who knew when he might faint again, and what might happen to him if he does? He…he certainly didn’t have time to change clothes or anything, certainly not. He sat back up, slipped on his one lost boot, and then waddled his way out of the room without even thinking of changing his clothes, down the stairs and out onto campus, reeking of piss and cum and smoke. But Eddie…Eddie would help him. Eddie would help him sort all of this out, he was sure of it.

Eddie’s Special Sale (Part 3)

Ralph hoped that simply getting away from Eddie would be enough for his heart to settle down, but instead it just kept thumping away in his chest as he walked down the street, to the corner, and turned towards campus. He was still exhausted from the first walk, however, and by the time he was halfway home, his thighs and quads were burning from the exertion of hauling himself around. There was a park on the block he was walking past, and he decided he could use a rest–just a short one to catch his breath, get himself back under control, and then he could get back to campus, and try and forget all about Eddie. He couldn’t go back there, he knew that. Not after blowing his load like that, how could he explain that moan he’d let off when it happened? He could have sworn Eddie had seen the wet spot covering his crotch too. He sat down on the first bench he came too, heaving a sigh, trying to figure out why he felt both so tired and so full of energy, all at the same time, like something was building up in him, something he couldn’t quite explain.

He ran his hands down the sides of his jeans, trying to get rid of the sweat coating his palms, when he felt something hard in his front right pocket, along with his keys. He had no clue what it could be–he fished around inside it, grabbed in his fist, the warmth nearly making him nauseous. From the feel of it, it could only be one thing–the lighter, the zippo lighter. Had…had he taken it? Had Eddie handed it to him without him noticing? The warmth was intense, like the lighter was on fire. He kept trying to make his fist drop it–instead it clutched it even tighter, feeling the metal imprint his flesh. He certainly had to pay for it…right? He…He should…go back…pay for…

He snorted awake on the bench a short while later–he wasn’t quite sure how much later. It couldn’t have been an hour, but he was still disoriented, looking around and trying to figure out where he was. It took him a few moments to piece things together, how he’d left the garage sale in somewhat of a froth, though he was having a hard time remembering why he’d been so…crazy. He’d been walking home and tired, and he’d been craving a cigar. He’d sat down on the bench to take a break, and then…then he’d just fainted away. He must have been more tired than he’d thought.

He fished a cellophane wrapped cigar from his pocket. His lighter was already in his hand–he must have gotten it out before falling asleep. He unwrapped it, slipped it in his mouth and puffed it too life, taking a deep inhale, and sighing out a plume of smoke into the crisp fall air, slipping his lighter back into his pocket as he did. A small part of him wondered what exactly he thought he was doing; wondered where he’d gotten the cigar from; wondered about these strange fainting spells he was having all of a sudden. Those concerns drifted off in the cool breeze in the park, and he found himself squeezing his cock in his jeans, thinking about bumping bellies with Eddie, and wondering if his garage sale would be open again on Monday. He had said all weekend…maybe he could pay him another visit. That strange energy he’d felt building all morning was still lingering in his chest, but he passed it off as butterflies. Halfway done with his cigar, but feeling rejuvenated, he hefted himself up and continued on towards campus, itching his face as he went.

He got back in the early afternoon, after a short detour to a local smoke shop for another pack of cigars, since this was apparently his last one. As soon as he’d smoked it to the butt he found himself compelled to light a second; sure, he knew he shouldn’t smoke this much, but he just couldn’t…stop himself. Didn’t want to stop himself. He got back to campus and got any number of odd looks from students, and a few angry comments reminding him the entire campus was smoke free, but he brushed it off. A little smoke wasn’t going to kill anybody–but he did have the courtesy to finish before going into his dorm. His roommate was out, which was a relief again. Between the cigars and his earlier contact with Eddie, he was horny as fuck all over again…and then he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror.

Those…weren’t the clothes he’d put on when he’d left for the day. He remembered, when he’d woken up on the bench he’d had on jeans and a collared shirt, sneakers on his feet. Not…overalls, the knees crusty with mud, grungy work boots (which he swore he had seen somewhere before) and a white tank stained yellow, reeking of sweat (and…piss?) which left a bit too much flab exposed for him to feel all that comfortable. His face was odd too, his stubble thick, or was it a beard? He’d never had facial hair before in his life, or ever really been able to grow anything like a beard, but…but it looked good. His hair was too long, though. Still, if it was a bit longer he could put it in a ponytail or something, at least keep it out of his face. His…fat face. Was he fatter? I mean, he’d always been fat, but it seemed like he was even…bigger. The discomfort evaporated faster than he could process it, and when he checked the closet for some more…professional clothes, only to discover all he had was filthy workwear, it bothered him less than he knew it should. It also did nothing to help his horniness, and after he blew a wad in his jockstrap, he felt much better–aside from being hungry as fuck. He tromped downstairs and headed for the dining hall, but stood outside so he could smoke a cigar first. He felt…good, but the looks he kept getting…from the students filing in and out of the doorway…it didn’t help him shake the feeling that something had gone horrifically wrong, and there might be nothing he could do to stop it.

Eddie’s Special Sale (Part 2)

Ralph tried to not be there too early, but how early could he get there without looking suspicious? He occupied himself with breakfast–which took longer than he’d expected after three trips through the dining hall to fill his fat gut, unable to stop rubbing his hard cock as he ate himself silly and occasionally sticking his hand in his pants, feeling his damp jock, coating his hand in his precum and musk and smelling it off the palm of his hand, thinking…thinking about Eddie. Something about him, it had flipped a switch he hadn’t even known, and all night long he’d had these dreams. The most intense wet dreams he’d ever had–hell, even his roommate hadn’t been able to look him in the eye this morning, so they must have been loud–but fuck him. Or rather, fuck Eddie. Fuck, he wanted to fuck him so damn bad…or be fucked by him, or…or all of it was confusing, really. He’d never felt this way before, but it was just…just there, and he didn’t know how to turn it off or deny it. He just had to see him again. He knew there was no way a man like that, a big man like that could be interested in him, of course, but…well, the way he’d looked at him, he had a feeling that maybe, well, who really knew who was into what or why?

He finished eating at around ten, and then started walking towards Eddie’s house. It was a good distance, and the walk seemed much more difficult than it had the day before, and when he finally reached his driveway, Ralph was soaked with sweat, and he could smell his filthy jockstrap through the jeans he was wearing. Eddie grinned when he saw him coming, and waved; Ralph waved back, and then walked over to where he was sitting in his lawn chair, panting a bit. “Glad to see you made it back,” Eddie said, “You doin’ ok? I don’t need you collapsin’ at my feet again.”

“Nah, I’m…I’m good,” Ralph said, “Just a…longer walk than…I remember.”

“You need something to drink? Some water?”

Ralph nodded, and Eddie handed him a water bottle from the table next to him. Ralph drank almost the whole thing, and gave it back. His hand touched his, and something he could only call a shock raced through him, heart pumping a little faster, cock hardening, straining in his jock. He remembered from his dreams, the two of them, naked, grinding their fat sweaty bodies together in the garage, wondering if he tasted as good as Ralph had dreamed.

“You gonna take a look around?”

Ralph nodded, trying not to visibly shake, and backed away, walking into the shade of the garage and the tables, where a few older ladies were also looking at his wares. A few things on the tables caught his eye, and he picked them up as he went–occasionally, something would give off a similar spark and warmth to…to something else, something he could barely remember. Something would tell him to hold on, to cling to it, but instead he would drop it back the table like a hot coal. A half empty bottle of beard oil, an assorted collection of hair ties, a box full of thick metal rings and studs that looked like piercings; a well used pair of steel toe biker boots; a pile of red, black and yellow bandanas, all stained stiff with sweat and who knew what else; a collection of empty liquor bottles. At the back of the garage were a few racks and stands of clothes, most of it workwear in various states of disrepair and cleanliness. In fact, nothing seemed to have been washed, and the smell…it was Eddie’s smell. He leaned in close to the clothes, sniffing them, cock leaking into the front of his jeans, veins throbbing, head light, but he saw someone else shopping give him a strange look and he pulled back from it, but that throbbing, that numbing sensation was only building in him, in his chest, in his groin.

He could also sense Eddie’s eyes on him, almost constantly. At first he was worried that he made Eddie out to be a thief; but the man’s attention seemed more intense than that, like he could sense this odd energy building up inside him, but Ralph did his best to ignore him, even as his body tried to draw him closer under any pretext, his mind trying to distract himself with other objects. He felt insane, he felt like he was going to explode at any moment. He had to get free, he needed some air. The garage was too stuffy, he was too horny, and he moved down the aisles towards the garage door, where he found himself blocked by Eddie, their bellies colliding, making Ralph shiver and nearly cum in his jockstrap.

“Hey, I was thinking, and there’s something in particular I thought might interest you, Ralph,” Eddie said, and held something out to him. It was a shiny silver box–Eddie flipped it open, revealing a lighter, “I used to collect these, they’re worth a good penny to the right buyer, if you aren’t a smoker–but the way you were looking at my cigar yesterday I thought–”

“Thanks, but I need to get back to campus,” Ralph said and pushed himself past, pressing their bodies together, and he spasmed, feeling his cock release, “Got a bunch of homework, I’m not that interested…really.” He pushed past him and waddled down the driveway, head spinning. Eddie thought about following him, but decided against it. The boy had all he needed, after all, he could just wait.

Eddie’s Special Sale (Part 1)

Ralph was a bit of a sucker for garage sales. Having grown up with a working single mother, they had spent quite a few weekends going around town to different sales, where they would occasionally find some clothes are a game for him, but her real target had always been collectibles. She had a knack for haggling, and she could usually pick out some piece of glassware or ornament priced way below what she could get for it on ebay, and Ralph had always sort of enjoyed watching his mother get the best of people, sometimes with a few hundred dollars of profit to help make ends meet. Now, as a poor college student starting as a Freshman, he’d found his mother’s lessons proved more beneficial than he might have imagined, and decided he too could make some extra cash. Labor day weekend was a great time for sales, and he started early Saturday, eventually coming round to a sizable sale out in front of a rundown ranch style home. It was manned by a bored looking, heavy set man slouching in a lawn chair under an awning–easy target, if he had anything worthwhile.

He made a quick circuit of the tables, other people talking quietly around various curios, mismatched dishes, and piles of towels. Nothing seemed particularly interesting–but one table simply had rows and rows of boxes full of disorganized stuff, all of it free for the taking. There might be something of worth in there, but going through all of them would take forever. Still, he had the time, and so he started digging around, finding nothing until he reached the third box, and his hand brushed against something strange, some sort of scratchy cloth, but as soon as it brushed his skin, he felt a shiver ripple through him, his breath growing quick and shallow. He gripped the thing and pulled it free from the box, only to find a wadded up jockstrap in his hand, not a small one either from the amount of fabric, none to clean from how crispy it felt, in fact he could smell it, could smell the…the cum soaked and dried into it, the piss…he…he was feeling hot now, and a bit faint, his vision tunnelling–

“Hey–Hey! Buddy, you ok?”

He was flat on his back. What had just happened? There were a bunch of faces looking down at him.

“You alright?”

It was the man from the lawn chair, the fat guy who’d seemed so bored. What in the hell had just happened? He’d…he could remember picking…something up, but he couldn’t remember what, and then…then he’d obviously fainted or something. The guy got down on one knee with a grunt, and Ralph could see his gut hanging out the bottom of his…his shirt, his eyes fixated on it there, barely able to keep himself from reaching out to touch it, instead grabbing hold of the man’s hand, helping him sit up. It seemed to take more effort than it usually did, like something was pushing back–and sure enough, something was. He’d sprouted…sprouted a gut…or had he always had a gut? He was still feeling dizzy and light headed, but he could…could have sworn he hadn’t been fat, and yet who was he trying to kid? Of…of course he’d been fat, he told himself, he been fat all his life.

“You need to come inside for some water?”

“No…No, I’m ok, I think…” Ralph said, “Must just be the heat today.”

“No kidding. Look, at least let me drive you home. Where do you live?”

The rest of the group had dispersed, and Ralph told him he was fine, that he’d feel bad if the guy had to abandon his sale for him. The guy insisted, however, and so they shut the garage door, Ralph told him he was a college student, and the man smirked. He helped Ralph into his truck, started the engine, and headed for campus.

“I…did you tell me your name?” Ralph asked.

“Eddie’s what most people call me,” the man said with a wink, “You mind if I smoke?” he said, pulling out a cigar. From Ralph’s meek reply he could sense that Ralph did mind, but he lit up anyway. He dropped him in front of his dorm, and before Ralph shut the door, he said, “I know ya didn’t get to buy anything, but I’ll be set up all weekend. Come back by tomorrow, and we’ll see what we can find for ya, alright?”

Ralph nodded, not quite able to figure out why his cock was so hard, and trudged up the stairs to his dorm room, which was empty, thankfully. He stripped off his shirt shoes and shorts, admiring his fat form in the mirror, groping his cock through his filthy jockstrap, milking a load of cum into the pouch before climbing into bed, figuring a wank and a nap would make him feel better than anything else. He woke up feeling very refreshed, got dressed again and helped himself to a massive meal on his dining card, already excited to go garage saling again…and excited to see Eddie again, though he didn’t really want to admit to himself why.

Smoke Feed (Sketch)

“Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Will’s head was a bit foggy from the smoke, his vision too. He sucked in a bit more from the pipe, letting it out in two streams from his nostrils, hand never leaving his cock. He could see his roommate in the doorway to his room. He had, at some point while smoking, stripped naked, and he was sitting in his chair in front of his computer, jacking off. This seemed normal to him, and he was a bit annoyed at the interruption.

Steve did not think this was normal at all. “You know this building is supposed to be smoke free, you need to be outside to smoke that thing. And could you at least shut your door when you’re jacking off? No one wants to see that.”

He shut the door before Will could say anything, and shook his head. That was weird–Will had never said anything about smoking a pipe. And now that he thought about it more, something about his roommate had seemed kind of off. Will was constantly going to the gym and dieting to keep his figure pristine, but through the smoke, had he seen a gut? And a hairy one at that? That made no sense either, Will shaved religiously every day, so much that Steve usually had to yell at him once a week to unclog the shower drain.

Will didn’t emerge for the rest of the day, but it was clear that he was still smoking. Annoyed, Steve opened all the windows in the apartment and then went out to dinner and stopped by the bar; when he got back at least the air was clearer, though Will’s door was still shut. Steve knocked, but got no answer, and didn’t want to intrude. Still, they were going to have a talk tomorrow, that was for sure. He went to his room and stewed for a bit, before jacking off to some porn, and then climbed into bed and fell asleep.

It was a few hours after he’d fallen asleep that Will’s door opened, and he slipped out into the apartment, his pipe still lit and spewing smoke. It was bigger now, with a deeper bend in the wood, huffing smoke. We walked through the apartment, naked, grunting and grumbling softly, shutting all the windows Steve had opened earlier, and then crept to his roommate’s room, and cracked open the door, careful to keep the hinge from squeaking, and he crept inside. Steve didn’t wake, and Will stood by his bed, and began carefully exhaling plumes of smoke over his roommate’s face, at first weakly, watching the first tendrils slip in his nose and mouth, and then grew braver, longer streams of smoke, watching Will’s sleeping head turn towards him, inhaling deeper, whimpering, cock hard under the blankets, his body beginning to change, growing thicker and hairier, stubble and then a beard filling in across his face. He was beginning to stir and cough, but Will couldn’t slow down or stop. He leaned in closer, feeling his own heavy gut press down against his thick, hard cock, his beard brushing against his flabby chest, hair white in the moonlight. He pursed his lips inches from Will’s open mouth, and he exhaled directly into him several times, the changes happening faster now, hair growing longer, turning a dingy grey, and then, after one long inhale on the stem of his new massive pipe, he locked lips with his roommate and forced his breath into him, feeling him cough and wake, find himself lip locked with Will, and unable to force himself free.

No, not free, he didn’t…want to be free. He wanted the smoke, he wanted Will’s smoke. Not just any smoke, but the second hand, the taste of Will’s lungs in his own, he craved it, without being able to put it in so many words. But more, more than that. He pushed up his body after Will pulled away, feeling weak and frail, and saw the cock there, and crawled to it, to the edge of the bed, and swallowed it down. Will gripped his long grey hair in one hand and pumped his cock down Steve’s throat, and as he did, he felt something strange happen with the pipe, he could feel it pushing itself into his mouth, uncurling like a living being, pushing his mouth wide and worming into him, down his throat and into his lungs. He choked for a moment, and then heaved a great inhale, followed by a sigh of smoke and a blast of cum from his cock right into Steve’s mouth, feeling it overflow and run down into his beard.

Steve smoked him for the rest of the night, sucking the smoke straight from Will’s lungs, unable to stop, the addiction only growing deeper the more he sucked down, his body atrophying further. The apartment, at this point, was saturated with smoke, but neither of them minded, but it was slipping out through the cracks and into the hallway, tendrils searching out mouths and noses nearby as their neighbors began waking and preparing for the day. Many of them were aware of a peculiar sweet smoke on the air as the walked the hallway the next few days, and the men were all slowly drawn to the door, testing the doorknob, breathing a bit deeper when they were near, eyes glazed, until one day, it was unlocked, and they fought their way inside, into the fog of smoke, stripping away their clothes and lives as they did–but Will was waiting for them, he would feed them, like he’d fed Steve. He’d feed them all, and they’d be so happy together, forever.

Gay Spiral, Take 2

hughmichelsen:

Ok, here’s another temporary home. This one’s been tuned a bit more and will possibly work more consistently.

Apologies for all of the problems. And apologies in advance, because that’s not the final address either. Still have to work out where it’s going to finally live. I will keep that database though, so any new stories posted there will go to the final home.

Gay Spiral, Take 2

The Gay Spiral MC Collection

hughmichelsen:

I’m a little nervous, but here it is. The first version of the new site, at it’s new home. Story submissions are now open.

I’ll put in a proper redirect on the old site in good time. I want to see how it holds up first.

Please let me know if/when you encounter issues. I’ll fix them asap. Next up is tags, which seems the most important to everyone, and comments.

As I said yesterday, I’m going to be taking a week off from regular posts so that I can rebuild my buffer, finish off some commissions. Today I wanted to make a big shout out to hughmichelsen for helping to get a working NCMC replacement off the ground. It’s currently open for submissions, so one of the cornerstones of the genre just got a second chance at life. Here’s hoping this incarnation is a step up from the last one. His stories are also fabulous, (though not quite my preferred fetishes) and very much worth checking out.

The Gay Spiral MC Collection

Justin’s Lost Nights (Parts 3 & 4)

Sorry for the missing post yesterday, things are still a little chaotic post surgery. Today will be a double sized post to make up for it. Unfortunately, I’m going to have to take next week off from providing original content so I can finish off some of my monthly commissions and build up a buffer of content again, because I ran dry in the thick of all of this. I’ll still have four posts this coming week, highlighting some other authors and favorite pieces of mine on tumblr, and if anyone has a piece they’d like to submit for a guest post this week, let me know, and we can work something out.

Justin rolled over in the bed, looked over, and saw that whoever he’d brought home the night before was already up and getting dressed in his jeans and shirt. The old radio alarm on the nightstand said it was just shy of five in the morning–he grabbed a cigar from the humidor beside, and lit it, before saying, “Where do you think you’re goin’, so damn early? Get back in bed.”

The guy looked over his shoulder, and buckled his belt up. “Can’t. I gotta get back home–have a meeting at nine this morning, and I can’t show up at work stinking like smoke and sex.”

Justin rolled his eyes–he showed up at work smelling like that everyday. He’d just have to change tactics a bit. “Boy, I said get back over here, and wrap your pretty mouth around this cock, while I have a morning smoke. I’m not going to ask you twice.”

The man gave him a long, impatient look. He was young–probably in his late thirties, well built, but…he didn’t seem very interested. “Look, in the bar, late at night, I get it. You’re some hot biker bear top, whatever, I’m into that. But come morning? You’re just another sorry old bear living in a shithole apartment like this, and I don’t have anymore time for you–

–old man.”

“What the fuck did you just call me?”

“Old man, get the fuck out of my way.”

He wasn’t that much younger than he was, but that didn’t matter. Justin had a few double whiskeys in him, and that meant he wasn’t in the mood to take shit from anyone, especially not some sorry looking biker bear wearing a leather vest, chaps and jeans, tattoos…everywhere…No, he knew he shouldn’t but…but some part of him wanted it. Wanted his cocky attitude, wanted that bullshit smirk.

Before the biker knew what was happening, Justin had him pinned against the wall, cigar close enough to singe the man’s handlebar mustache. “What the fuck?” the biker asked, but Justin…Justin knew what he was doing, as he reached down pulled off his shirt, and then with his fingers be pulled away one of the man’s harley davidson logo tattoos, letting the pattern dangle in the air for a moment, before laying it across one of his pecs, where it stuck. The man just stared at him, Justin taking a big breath of smoke, leaning in–

and he locked lips with the struggling man he’d pinned against the wall and exhaled the whole plume of smoke into his lungs, whether he wanted it or not. He coughed it back up, and shoved Justin away–who couldn’t quite remember getting up from the bed. “Don’t you roughnecks know that no means fucking no? Fuck–I should know better than to go out on a fucking Sunday night and think I might meet someone worth two fucking cents.”

Justin didn’t say anything else, as the man pulled on his boots and left the apartment–he was still trying to figure out what he’d just remembered. He walked to his grimy bathroom and looked at himself–sure enough, he had that same harley tattoo right there on his pec, where it had always been…or had it? Was this even his apartment? Suddenly it didn’t seem right–his body didn’t seem right. Sure, he’d had tattoos before, but now–fuck, now he had them everywhere. The smoke on his arms, his daddy bear tatts–both were now interspersed with bikes and motorcycles, all over his chest and down onto his belly–even on his back and down onto his legs. In fact, now he had tattoos all over his body–and he could remember getting them all, but he could also…also remember…

The biker didn’t know what to do, beyond stare, as the rest of his tattoos lifted off his body, crossing the gap of space between them, and settling down onto Justin’s body, their clothes worming around until each of them was dressed as the other had been, but Justin had a few other changes–his beard longer, his head shaved bare, and he was dirty, hands greasy. “Why don’t you do this old man biker a favor, and put your mouth to better use than mouthing off, boy?”

The man got down and started sucking, and Justin relished it–a blowjob and a smoke–what was better? And after shooting, he dragged the man back to his place nearby for some extra fun, of course.

Justin kept stroking his cock in the bathroom, running one hand over his hairy body, before lifting it up and smelling his sweaty pit, feeling his long beard brush against his chest. Fuck him. He didn’t need to fuck some rich business fuck to feel good about himself. Sure, he wasn’t rich, but he worked, and he had his bike, and his fucking freedom. Riding all weekend–that’s what he loved. The highways, the backroads, but especially fucking truckers and bikers in rest areas along the way. He shot his load across the cabinets and the floor, and left it there, climbing back in bed–sleeping another hour before he had to get up for work–throwing on his grungy work gear and riding his bike to the construction site for a day of labor, and afterwards, stinking of sweat and musk, he went right to Pigtown, parking his bike with the others outside. He had a feeling about tonight–he was getting closer to something, to someone. He greeted the bartender by nickname–his drink already waiting for him, and the hunt began again.

Justin was sulking at a small table in Pigtown’s front bar, the seat opposite him empty, smoking his sixth or seventh cigar of the night, the ashtray in front of him piled high and spiling over, a small collection of empty glasses to one side. What in the hell was the matter with him tonight? He usually had no trouble pinning someone down for a good fuck, but tonight, no one seemed appealing, or he just didn’t feel like fucking any of them, or perhaps a bit of both. He heaved a sigh of smoke. It was three in the morning. Pigtown never closed, of course, but he did have work in the morning, and as much as he hated the idea of going home alone, maybe he should just give up. But each time he made an effort to get up, the barcub would bring around another drink, light him another cigar, and park him back down, and so he was still sitting there, getting drunker, and…waiting for something, or rather, someone. He was sure it was a someone, but who?

The bar was moderately crowded–Pigtown had a rather devout clientele, and it was often packed, even on the weekdays. But he didn’t want a regular, he wanted someone…fresh. Someone…blank. Blank? He didn’t quite know what that meant, but the word seemed appropriate. His attention was drawn to the door, and a face he didn’t recognize poked through nervously, his heart skipping. Younger, probably in college. He looked a bit drunk already, and he made his way in. Gay? Did it matter? Everyone who came to Pigtown was gay, so why bother asking? Most important, Justin wanted him, but not just sex.

He felt an odd squirming on his arms, looked down, and saw his tattoos were…moving across his skin, the smoke swirling and ebbing–seething, perhaps. He knew, in his mind, that he should be terrified, but something else told him to relax…take a deep breath of smoke, hold it for a moment, and then blow it in the young man’s direction. The smoke had an odd consistency–dark and opaque, like even as it moved through the air, it remained flat. The tattoos on his arms lost some of their detail, looking older and well worn, but he watched the cloud drift towards the young man, who was at the bar getting a beer, where it wrapped around his neck and shoulders before dissipating, leaving a tattoo around his neck matching the swirling smoke patterns on Justin’s arms.

The young man was clueless, but he took his beer and turned towards the bar, where his eyes glued themselves to the fiery tip of Justin’s cigar. He couldn’t look away, his legs plodding towards him, forcing him into the seat opposite, while Justin just leered at him, and without saying a word, leaned over the table, wrapped a hand around the back of his the young man’s head, and pulled him into a long, smoky kiss. He resisted at first, but after the first lungful he relaxed, accepting the smoke, desiring it, needing it–when at last the pulled away, Justin gave him a cigar, and watched the young man light it like an expert–no, stranger than that, he lit it just like Justin did, like Justin had taught him himself.

“I don’t…what am I doing?” the young man asked, his eyes glassy like a dream.

“Don’t think about it boy,” Justin said, “I don’t need a boy who thinks, you know? Actually, get up, we’re gonna go find someone.”

He hauled Justin up from the table, and together they searched through the back rooms, for someone Justin had seen earlier, a semi-regular, and it was relatively easy–his head stood up over the rest of the crowd, and the bright red hair on his head was obvious even in the darkness. A thick muscle headed brute–but it was his tattoos which had caught his eye earlier. He could feel the tattoos across the room, and he urged them to leave their current master and come join him–they obliged, drifting across the room, darting between bodies, and he turned to his boy, grabbed his shirt by the collar and ripped it down the front with a rough yank.

He tried to object, but the tattoos struck him, adhering and crawling over his body where Justin directed them. Four leaf clovers wound up his arms, red hair sprouting on his relatively bare arms as they did, spreading up onto his chest, where the word “Irish” was tattooed over his pecs. Something else slid over one shoulder and onto his back– “Brawn over Brains”.Justin stepped back and watched his boy start to expand, red hair filling in all over his body, muscle bulking up under his skin, and he began growing taller as well. He just stared down at himself, unable to believe what was happening, his mind turning foggy, but it wasn’t enough for Justin–he pulled in more tattoos from everywhere in the club. “Daddy’s Little Cub” across his lower back, “Jock” across his bulging gut, decorative swirls of leather bands up and down his legs. His clothes were tattered from his rapid growth, but reformed, his shirt becoming a leather bulldog harness, his jeans tattered from a day at the work site just like Justin, and the smell of him, of his boy, of his smoke, and he bent him over, yanked down the back, exposed his cub’s ass and rammed his cock home.

He woke up the next morning, his big, red headed cub snoring loudly beside him. He didn’t quite know when they’d gotten home the night before, but looking at his phone, he saw they had to get ready for work. First things first, however. He lit himself a cigar, feeling the jitters die back, and then slipped his cock into his boy’s loose hole, feeling him groan, waken slowly, and start pushing back as his daddy bear fucked him.

Funny to think that a man as big and burly as Pat could be such a bottom, but something about his old biker bear’s cock just did something to his holes he couldn’t explain. He topped more often than not otherwise, usually him and daddy taking some old bear and both ends in some rest area park on a long ride, but for Justin, he’d always be his submissive cub. Justin could dimly recall the events of the night before, but they were fading rapidly. More than anything else, his life felt…stable for the first time in days. Like he’d finally reached the end of a long slide, or like some strange force had finally left him for someone else. It was relaxing–but maybe he and his boy could go a few weeks without another visit to Pigtown. He liked the place, and he’d always be a regular…but sometimes it gave him the creeps, you know?