A gay story: Big Mack Pt. 02 In the morning, Yoshi caught a train to the suburban outskirts of Brisbane to visit his parents. They spent the afternoon together, catching up over milky coffee and slices of a chocolate cake his mum baked especially for today. That night, they went out for dinner at his mum’s favourite Italian restaurant. Yoshi couldn’t remember the last time he ate so well.
He stayed the night, sleeping in the bedroom he grew up in. All his old posters were still on the wall. While the room looked like a time capsule of his teenage years, it felt very different now. He tried to remember how the room felt when it was his cocoon, his refuge from the world, and the place he did his school homework in; it wasn’t easy.
Mack didn’t have any plans for the weekend other than watching his beloved Queensland Reds rugby team. They were playing away this weekend, in Dunedin. He headed to the pub on Saturday and watched the game on TV with some of his old rugby mates. He was joyous when the Reds won. Those Otago motherfuckers were always tough to beat.
On Sunday afternoon, Mack rang his wife and they talked for a while, maybe half an hour, on the phone. Mack didn’t mention anything about the punk kid he spent Friday night with, nor did he mention that he’d sucked his first dick. Despite their separation to ‘experiment’, he didn’t know how she might respond. He wondered whether his wife had hooked up with anyone herself since they separated. She probably had, but he didn’t ask, and she didn’t tell. The situation between them was still too confusing and uncertain. Instead, they talked about how their kids were doing at school.
While Mack was on the phone, Yoshi was on the train. As his carriage jostled him back towards the city, he checked Grindr on his mobile. There were a few unread messages from others, which he ignored for now, but none from the auto mechanic. He considered sending him a message, but it’d been less than 48 hours. Too soon. Not cool. Looks desperate.
Mack finished his conversation with his wife, and as he put his phone down on the kitchen table, his mind drifted to the kid he’d spent Friday night with. He wondered whether to send him a message, but he was still processing his first same-sex interaction, and he wasn’t in the right mental state. Not just yet. He missed his wife and kids terribly. They reminded him of the life he’d left, the life of his past, and the life he might never be able to go back to.
He knew he wouldn’t speak to anyone else until he rocked up at the garage tomorrow morning.
Yoshi’s train arrived at Roma Street. As he walked towards the station’s exit, he passed the toilet where he recently jacked off staring at a pic of Mack’s fat cock. He began to salivate thinking about last Friday night. The mechanic’s dick was massive, and the organic thickshake it produced was delicious. The emo couldn’t get the thought out of his mind. He considered jerking off in the toilet again, but surely today he had the willpower to make it home. He walked briskly down to the river and caught the ferry the rest of the way home, trying desperately to hide his insistent boner. He disembarked at his stop and almost ran the distance to his building. He needed to fap so fucking bad.
He threw his front door open, tossed his bag onto the couch, went to his bedroom and pulled the curtains closed. He booted his laptop before grabbing a fat buttplug and his bottle of lube. He drooled lube onto his plug and jammed it in. It stung a little, and Yoshi winced for just a second, but as he began to relax, pain gave way to pleasure. He opened a gay porn site he’d favourited, clicked on the ‘bear’ category, and found a scene that looked interesting. He leaned back on the plug, feeling it probe deeper into his arse.
He watched as a panicky husband answered a knock at his front door. A plumber stood on his doorstep wearing a blue singlet, faded jeans, and a pair of sturdy workboots. He carried a heavy toolbox in his right fist. The husband eagerly invited the plumber in and began to explain his problem — he’d accidentally dropped his wedding ring down the kitchen drain, and his wife was gonna kill him. The plumber walked across to the sink and, as he bent forward to examine the situation, the husband’s gaze found the top of the plumber’s sweaty arsecrack. The tradie noticed his customer’s horny stare, and seconds later, the wedding ring was forgotten as the two hairy bears were locked at the lips, teasing each other’s nipples with their fingers.
“Fuck,” seethed the emo. He shifted his weight so the tip of the buttplug nestled snugly against his prostate. He spat on his palm and began stroking himself. He watched as the husband began kissing the plumber’s neck. And as the husband moved down and began sucking on one of the plumber’s nipples, Yoshi remembered putting his hand up Mack’s t-shirt the other night. Instantly, his anus twitched around the base of the plug, and his warm seed spilled over his knuckles. Other than the Grindr profile pic, he hadn’t seen the mechanic’s chest with his own eyes, but he’d briefly felt it — it was strong, muscly and hairy, and the memory of running his fingers across it like Braille was enough to make him cum.
Yoshi ate his load off his fingers, imagining it was the mechanic’s. He extracted his toy and washed it in the laundry sink. When he came back to his bedroom, the scene was still playing on his laptop. By now, the plumber’s cock was buried deep in his customer’s hungry mouth, but there was no longer any reason for the emo to keep watching. The porn had done its job, but Yoshi bookmarked the scene for later. He closed his browser and shut his laptop down. He headed out for a quiet solo dinner before returning home. He had some reading to do before tomorrow morning’s uni lecture.
In the neighbouring suburb, Mack was feeling a little bit toey. Firing up his computer, he navigated to one of the male porn sites he’d recently bookmarked and typed ‘punk’ into the search box. He found a clip of two uni students who’d been paired together to complete an assignment. One of the students had already finished his part of the task, and he fell asleep while his classmate did his bit. He dreamed that the other student was standing naked before him, his smallish dick dangling in front of his face, demanding attention.
Mack’s thick cock sprang to life as he watched the two skinny, pierced emos with unusual haircuts kissing, their tongues buried deep in each other’s mouths. And as he watched the students move into the 69 position, his cock stiffened further. He stroked himself furiously, and as he watched the two punks start to fuck, he came, spraying semen all over his stomach. He’d rarely had anal sex before — his wife wasn’t interested in it — but these two skinny emos obviously loved it. He took a picture of his wet, spent cock, and a tight closeup of his thick sperm dripping down his abdomen.
*
Yoshi was at home late Tuesday afternoon when he messaged the mechanic again. Four days was the sweet spot, he thought. Sooner, and he would’ve looked too eager, but leave it too long, and there’s always the risk that the other person has shrugged and moved on. Timing is everything. He typed his classic conversation starter into his phone and sent it.
Yoshi: hey
The king’s pawn advanced two spaces into the middle of the board. A response came an hour later.
Mack: good to hear from you
Yoshi smiled. He worried he might’ve been forgotten.
Yoshi: taken any more dick pics lately?
Mack: funny you should mention that … here’s a couple i took on Sunday arvo while i was watching some porn
Yoshi was curious to know what types of porn the mechanic was into, but curiosity disappeared as he felt his phone buzz in his hand. His jaw dropped as he saw what he’d been sent: one picture of Mack’s post-climactic dick, and another of his abdomen, absolutely coated in cum. The emo boned up immediately.
Yoshi: oh my fucking god
Mack sent the smile emoji.
Yoshi: omfg wait gimme a sec i gotta fap
Yoshi gazed at the screen, almost as if in a trance. He pulled his pants down and began jacking off furiously as he imagined inhaling the scent of the mechanic’s balls, the feel of his cock in his hands and the taste of his nut on his tongue. It only took about a minute for the emo to shoot. Breathing heavily, he snapped a pic of his nut dribbling down the shaft of his cock, and another of his sperm-coated fingers resting on his outstretched tongue. He licked his fingers clean before sending the images.
Yoshi: that’s what you just made me do
Mack didn’t respond, but the emo could tell he was still online. That telltale green dot in the corner of his profile pic was going nowhere.
Yoshi: been thinkin bout u big guy
Mack: i have too
Yoshi: i love ur cock
Mack remained silent. Yoshi saw three dots dance on his screen for a few moments before disappearing. Whatever it was the auto mechanic wanted to say, he’d changed his mind.
A part of Yoshi regretted sending those pics. It would’ve been normal for two guys looking for a quick NSA hookup, but that wasn’t what this felt like. At least, it didn’t feel that way to him.
The emo showered and climbed into bed. He read for a while, but as he turned his light out and prepared for sleep, the last thing that passed through his mind was the brawny mechanic’s cock.
*
As Yoshi walked to class on Friday morning, he imagined the mechanic hard at work, presumably up since just after sunrise. A devious smile creased across his face as he opened the app and started to type.
Yoshi: hey big guy … im guessing you’ve got your head under the bonnet of a car right now, just hope nobody creeps up behind u and grabs ur hips
As soon as he pressed send, he knew it was a mistake. Regret landed hard. He winced and smacked his forehead, but he knew he couldn’t take the message back. What the fuck was he doing? That was *way* too forward for a dude who’s brand new to all of this. He didn’t have a licence to flirt. He considered adding a quick ‘just joking’ comment, but he thought that’d probably only make it worse.
He’d been watching too much bear porn lately.
Fuck.
He didn’t deserve a response, and he didn’t get one either. Yoshi had hoped to hang out with the mechanic tonight, assuming he was free, that is; but he’d fucked it up badly.
An emo band he liked was playing in the Valley; he’d go to their gig tonight instead. A goth girl he knew was gonna be there. She thought he was hot, and he knew she did, because one of her friends had told him. He’d go to the show, rock out, drink some beers, and flirt with her. He’d take her to the park across the street, and she’d suck his cock in the darkness while he groped her fat rack through her corset. Done. Evening planned.
It’d been a long week in the garage. Mack went to the Caxton and played pool with a friend he hadn’t seen in a while. They sank a few cold brews. They didn’t talk much, and the mechanic was relieved his buddy didn’t quiz him about his missus. His friend knew that Mack would talk when he was ready to talk. For now, they just played pool, drank beer, and talked shit. Mates being mates the Australian way.
*
Yoshi woke late on Saturday morning. Last night’s gig was immense. His ears were still ringing when he woke up. He threw the covers off, flicked the switch on the kettle, and poured himself a cup of shitty instant coffee. The brew tasted bitterly vile, but he knew it’d wake him up. He threw two pieces of bread into the toaster, and they resurfaced, browned, two minutes later. He opened the fridge, found his jar of Vegemite, and smeared a thin layer across the toast. He sipped his coffee.
Even after being surrounded last night by hundreds of sultry black-clad creatures of the night, and even after receiving a hot blowjob from a big-tiddy goth who eagerly gulped his load, the first thing he thought of this morning was the mechanic. He checked his phone to see if a message had landed overnight. Nup. There was a text from the goth chick, though. For now, he ignored it. If he was ever desperate for a blowjob … fuck, she was cute … her mouth was amazing … her tits were fucking massive, and he knew she was into him … he barely even knew her, but just for a split second, he imagined moving in with her … this could all be so easy if he was straight …
He decided to try one last time. And this really was the last time.
Yoshi: hey man … u get up 2 much last night? im really sorry about the message i sent yesterday btw, that was a dick move on my part
The reply came much more quickly than the emo anticipated.
Mack: Haha all good … wondered what was going through your head when you sent that … wondered if it was meant for me or someone else
How many other auto mechanics did Yoshi know? He could count them on the fingers of no hands. The emo breathed an intense sigh of relief.
Yoshi: not gonna lie it was meant 4 u but as soon as i sent it i regretted it … way too forward … was kinda hoping to hang with u last night but i guess you were busy
Mack: wasn’t busy, just went to the pub and played pool with a mate, kicked his arse … what about you?
Yoshi: went to a gig in the valley
Mack: cool
Conversation seemed reasonably normal, as far as hookup apps went. At least Yoshi now knew he hadn’t upset the mechanic.
Yoshi: doing anything 2nite?
Mack: rugby — heading to lang park, we’re playing the waratahs from new south wales … grudge match
Yoshi: can i come?
It was a public place, the game wasn’t sold out, and Mack couldn’t stop Yoshi from buying a ticket. But the mechanic was going with some old rugby mates who might be confused, or even might ask difficult questions, if the black-clad emo kid accompanied them. He worried that worlds were colliding.
Mack: not sure that’d be a good idea
Yoshi: i promise not to embarrass you in front of your mates, im not a dick … if your mates get nosey just lie and say im the son or the nephew of a friend of urs that ur mates don’t know and ive just moved to brissie and youre doing ur mate a favour by helping me find a place to rent, easy
Mack wasn’t sure. This felt risky. Three dots danced on Yoshi’s screen, but the emo hadn’t finished outlining his proposition for the evening. His thumbs began to dance again.
Yoshi: ill pretend to be yr mate’s son/nephew/whatever until the end of the game, then if you want, you can take me home, and we can hang out and … we can … umm … do stuff
For Mack, this was a moment of trust in someone he barely even knew, someone who’d already typed the weirdest shit to him on the app. He knew the emo could potentially make his life a misery tonight with just one stray sentence. But he couldn’t deny he wanted this. Fuck the rugby game; he wanted to find out what ‘stuff’ the emo kid had in mind. His fat dick twitched.
Mack: ok
Yoshi sent the smile emoji.
Mack: meet at the caxton around 6, game starts half 7
*
Yoshi rocked up on time at the Caxton Hotel wearing a black t-shirt, a pair of ripped black long-shorts, and a pair of black sneakers. A black cap perched on his head, the peak tilted at an angle. He brought a small backpack with him which contained a long-sleeved t-shirt in case the night turned chilly, and small bottle of lube, just in case he got lucky. He knew he looked totally out of place. Heads turned as he walked in, but not in a good way. He approached the bar and bought himself a beer.
He found the mechanic, seated at a table on the other side of the bar with two other rugged men. Yoshi waved. Mack’s long, wiry red hair cascaded down his back, held in place by his Reds’ membership cap. He wore the team’s jersey, a pair of jeans and a pair of boots. He looked nervous, feeling like this was all about to turn into a gigantic, embarrassing, irreversible mistake. He removed his cap and ran a hand through his hair. He took a huge gulp of beer as Yoshi approached. “Hey, dude,” he said.
Mack’s mates looked surprised and confused.
“Hey,” replied the emo.
Mack prepared to perform the obligatory introductions. “Yoshi, meet Ryan and Hunter.”
Hands were extended for shaking, and stares were applied to Yoshi’s facial piercings and his painted black fingernails. “Nice to meet you,” the emo said quietly.
“How do you know Mack?” asked Ryan.
“Uhh, he’s a mate’s nephew,” Mack interrupted. “He’s just moved to Brisbane, and I’m helping him find a place to live. He doesn’t know anyone here,” he lied, “so he’s crashing on my couch for a week or so.”
“Yeah, I think we saw you in here a couple of times recently,” said Hunter, staring at the kid’s facial piercings. “Anyway, welcome to Brisvegas,” he said, lifting his glass. “You coming to the game with us, are ya?”
“Yeah,” said Yoshi, brushing his long black fringe away from his dark eyes, “if that’s OK. Never been to the rugby before, so I’m kinda looking forward to it.” He sipped his beer before turning to Hunter. “Is that your real name?”
“Hunter is my last name,” he replied. “Happens all the time in Brisbane, blokes get called by their last name.” He pointed a thumb towards the mechanic. “Like Mack, I guess.”
“We used to call you Hunt,” said Mack.
“Yeah,” Ryan chimed in for the emo’s benefit, “but his missus put a stop to that.”
“Why?” asked Yoshi, a playful smile dancing across his lips. “Sounds too much like Cunt?”
Mack nearly choked. Every muscle froze. Everything about this was a massive, massive mistake.
“I work part-time on a supermarket loading dock when I’m not at uni,” Yoshi continued, oblivious to the mechanic’s panic, “and my supervisor’s name is Chris Hunt. One day, I hadn’t had my meal break and I was hungry, but I needed to check in with him before clocking off. I didn’t know where he was, so I got on the store PA to page him, but my mouth was dry.”
Mack stared at the emo kid, every fibre of his being willing him to just shut the fuck up.
“Anyway,” Yoshi continued, “I meant to say ‘could Chris Hunt come to the loading dock’, but it came out all wrong. I don’t know how I didn’t get sacked on the spot. I must be the only cunt in Australia who’s called his supervisor a cunt in public and kept his job.” He took a sip of his beer and adjusted his cap, turning the peak backward.
Mack’s mates hoped this weirdo found an apartment soon, so they’d never have to see him again.
To Mack’s immense relief, the emo clammed up soon after telling his short yet extraordinary anecdote. If he was lucky, they’d spend the next couple of hours watching the action on the field, with conversation at a minimum.
“Come on,” said Mack, checking the time on his phone. “Let’s go.” They finished their beers and rolled down the hill towards the stadium. Mack and his mates talked about the game, and the emo took the opportunity to tune out for a moment. Security checked the emo’s backpack, but the bottle of lube remained undiscovered. They swiped their tickets, entered the stadium, and took their seats in the grandstand. Ryan headed to the bar to buy four beers, expertly ferrying the drinks back to their seats in a cardboard carry-tray.
Given the unspoken but well-understood expectations of the Aussie shout, Mack knew the time would come when it was his turn to buy the beers, and he dreaded the thought of the emo being left alone with his two mates. He knew they’d ask the kid questions.
The Reds were up by three points at half time. “Get us a beer, Mack, you cheap, stingy prick,” Hunter joked, draining the dregs from his plastic cup. “Don’t they pay you enough at that shitty garage?”
“No worries.” Mack laughed on the outside, but he winced on the inside. This was the moment he’d been dreading.
“Gonna take a piss,” Yoshi declared, “back in a sec.” Mack breathed a monumental sigh of relief as he watched the black-clad emo sauntering off towards the toilets, denying Mack’s mates their only opportunity to grill him. Mack couldn’t tell whether it was just a lucky coincidence or whether the kid just knew to make himself scarce when it was Mack’s shout, but he wasn’t about to complain either way. He remembered the kid said in a message that he wouldn’t embarrass him in front of his mates; maybe this was part of what he meant.
Throughout the second half, the emo rode the game like he’d been watching rugby all his life. He barely had a clue what was happening on the park, but he surfed the peaks and troughs of the crowd to perfection.
Queensland won by ten points, and the crowd was ecstatic as they slowly drained out of the stadium.
“Head back to the pub for a nightcap?” Hunter suggested.
Mack glanced at the emo. “Nah, we’ve got apartments to look at in the morning. Got a long list. Need to get this punk into bed.”
Was this an invitation? Either way, Yoshi nearly tented at the mechanic’s poor choice of words. He couldn’t wait for the hairy bear to tuck him in and kiss him goodnight. Maybe, if he was a good boy, he might even get a story.
“No worries,” said Ryan. “See you soon, mate, and say hi to the missus from me when you see her next.” He looked at Yoshi. “Nice meeting you, strange dude. Hope you find a place to live soon.” He pointed to the mechanic. “Besides, this prick needs his couch back for all the filthy sluts he’s gonna bone on it.”
The emo’s mind spiralled from ‘good boy’ to ‘filthy slut’ so fucking fast. “Nice meeting you too,” came his polite, indifferent reply. “See ya.”
Ryan and Cunter were forgotten as soon as they were out of the Yoshi’s sight. He and the mechanic walked away in search of public transport and were soon enveloped by the sea of the departing crowd. “Your friends are nice,” he lied, making conversation. He’d found them uninteresting and dull. “Do they play rugby too?”
“They used to,” Mack informed, “with me. That’s how we met.”
The emo nodded, but he didn’t really care. He wasn’t sure where he was going tonight: to the mechanic’s apartment, or to his own.
“Thanks, by the way, for disappearing when it was my shout,” thanked Mack. “I really appreciated that. I was worried they’d ask you uncomfortable questions, and then we’d have to co-ordinate awkward lies.”
“Like I said, I wasn’t gonna embarrass you, and I wasn’t gonna let your stupid boofhead mates grill me.” The emo stopped walking for a second; this evening’s events might’ve looked different from another perspective. He needed to check. “Actually, wait, fuck, hang on a sec. Did I upset you tonight?”
The auto mechanic stopped too. He shook his head. “I’ll admit I was a bit worried early on, though, before the game, back at the pub, when you were telling your insane story. I’ve got no idea how you kept your job after calling your boss a cunt on the store PA either,” he laughed. “I would’ve fired your arse on the spot if I was your boss.”
Yoshi imagined the mechanic as his boss on the loading dock. Fuck, that’d be hot. His mind began to drift as he wondered what he might’ve needed to do to keep his job.
“Did you enjoy the game?” asked Mack.
The emo snapped back to reality. “Depends. I didn’t really understand what was happening, but I liked drinking beer on a warm night with a big crowd. Maybe you can explain the rules to me sometime.” He looked up at Mack. “But I enjoyed watching *you* watching the game.”
The mechanic’s deep blue eyes turned to face the half-Japanese kid. “You were watching *me*, punk?”
“About as much as I was watching the game, yeah. You were very entertaining,” the emo admitted with a wry smile. “It felt like you’d have given anything to pull on a jersey, run out onto the ground and crack some skulls.”
The emo pretended to stop to tie his shoelaces, and Mack walked ahead a few steps. Yoshi took the opportunity to ogle the mechanic’s denim-clad ass. Big, fat and juicy. He bit his bottom lip. He wanted a taste of that.
Their discussion slowed and drifted away as they approached the lengthy queue for a bus. They waited quietly, neither wanting to continue their current conversation in a crowd. As they boarded the bus, swiping their Go cards, the emo found a seat under an internal light so he could quietly read a few pages of his book during the short journey. Mack looked back and noticed.
Yoshi followed the mechanic as he stood to disembark. They walked the few blocks towards Mack’s building, side by side, under streetlight illumination. He still wasn’t sure whether he’d been invited over, but neither was the mechanic sending him away.
“You like reading?” Mack asked as they walked.
“Yeah,” came the reply.
“What are you reading at the moment?”
In the semi-darkness, Yoshi held up his tattered novel. “It’s called ‘The Unconsoled’. It’s by Kazuo Ishiguro. Born in Japan, but grew up in England. The story is set somewhere in Europe, but the author never reveals whereabouts. The whole book feels like it’s a dream. This is the second time I’ve read it, and I still can’t understand it.”
Mack thought. “Maybe it needs to be a movie. Like ‘Cloud Atlas’.”
Yoshi reflected on Tom Hanks’ desecration of David Mitchell’s perfect novel. He frowned, emphatically shaking his head. “Nah. No way. Literary sacrilege. This is a book that only exists as a book. Just like ‘Cloud Atlas’ should’ve been allowed to be.”
The mechanic wasn’t about to argue. “Tell me all about it when you’re done,” he said.
Inside, Yoshi smiled, feeling a connection. “By the way, your friends are a bit thick.”
Mack raised his eyebrows and looked down at the emo. “Huh?”
“You said we were looking at apartments tomorrow, but tomorrow’s Sunday. Even the bloodsucking piranhas in real estate get one day off each week.”
Mack punched the emo lightly on the arm as they approached his building, and Yoshi pretended to crumple up in agony, comically waving to the sideline for the team medic’s attention.
Silently, they rode up in the lift together. Mack opened the door and turned on the bright loungeroom light. This time, Yoshi held back. There was no instantaneous jamming of tongues in mouths. Instead, there was politeness and restraint. “Thanks for having me over,” the emo said calmly, leaning against a lounge room wall. He had no idea whether he’d be here just for a few minutes or the whole night, but he was open to either possibility. The next move was his host’s to make, but the emo knew it’d have to happen sooner or later. He was here for a reason.
His apartment felt a little stuffy, so Mack threw his balcony door open to let in some air. “Need to take a piss,” he announced, stifling a burp as he headed down the hallway to the bathroom. “Back in a sec.”
Yoshi would’ve loved to watch, but the mechanic closed the door. Silently, Yoshi tiptoed down the hallway and listened as a thick stream of beery piss thundered into the bowl. He moaned a little, trying to imagine how the mechanic gripped his thick shaft as he pissed. He heard the stream stutter and stop, and he imagined the mechanic flicking his thick slab to loose the last stray droplets into the bowl.
The emo heard the basin tap running as the mechanic washed his hands. He tiptoed back down the hallway and perched casually on the arm of his host’s couch. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and pretended to scroll through his feed.
Mack spent his bathroom time deep in thought. As he pissed, he stared at his reflection in the mirror, having absolutely no idea what to do or what he wanted.
“Needed that,” declared the auto mechanic, returning to the lounge room.
Yoshi had already helped himself to some water from the kitchen sink — he found a fresh cup in the mechanic’s cupboard. “Good to hear,” he said, taking a sip. “Nobody wants their bladder to explode.”
The mechanic laughed, but it was a nervous, forced laugh. “What a way to go, hey, punk?” he replied.
The room fell painfully silent. All Yoshi could hear was the sound of traffic under Mack’s balcony as the warm night air drifted in.
“I love it when you call me ‘punk’,” whispered the emo. “It’s so fucking hot. I just wanted you to know that,” Yoshi said, adjusting his cap. He brushed his floppy fringe out of his face before gazing into the mechanic’s deep blue irises. “I’ll be your punk anytime, big guy.”
Mack still had no idea what to say or do. For a second, he considered asking the kid to leave. But he knew that if he did, their paths would probably never cross again. Sure, there were plenty of other fish in the Grindr sea, but in some unexplainable way, he found himself warming to the emo. Fuck, he’d already let the kid suck his dick, and in a moment of irrational madness, he’d reciprocated. Hadn’t he already crossed the line? What was he afraid of? He didn’t know. He didn’t have an answer. “I don’t know what happens,” he admitted, staring at the corner of the rug underneath his coffee table. His thought trailed off. “I don’t know what to do … I don’t know …”
“We don’t have to do anything,” said the emo. “I can leave if you want.”
Mack didn’t know what he wanted, but he knew he didn’t want to be alone. “You don’t need to go.”
Yoshi stood up from the arm of the couch and took a small step towards his host. “Well, you don’t seem like the submissive type, big guy. I bet you never took a backward step on the rugby field, did you?”
The mechanic shook his head, but his voice had gone missing. He stared at the corner of the rug.
“So you don’t need to take one now either.” The emo walked across the room and stood in front of Mack, now within touching distance. He waited for his host to make the next move, but the mechanic remained immobile, still gazing at the floor.
“Touch me,” whispered the emo, his dark brown eyes upturned under his floppy hair. “Please. I want you to.” He bit his bottom lip seductively.
The mechanic didn’t respond.
“Then I’ll touch you. If you don’t want me to, if you want me to stop, just say, and I’ll stop.”
Yoshi kneeled and unzipped Mack’s jeans. He reached inside and fished out his prize. Mack’s cock was hard like steel — the mechanic’s brain might’ve harboured some doubts, but his dick didn’t. “Fuck,” whispered Yoshi, eyes wide. “So fucking big.” He stroked it gently with his painted black fingernails.
The emo ran his tongue around the head of big Mack’s slab of meat, and as he took the first few inches into his mouth, the mechanic sighed. Yoshi looked up and smiled. “You OK up there, big guy?”
“Fuck, punk,” Mack whispered. He felt the metal in Yoshi’s lip run across the sensitive, engorged head of his enormous cock.
Yoshi felt a heavy hand land on the back of his head, pulling him close, holding him in place. He took this as his cue. The emo opened wide and gulped a few more inches into his throat, and the mechanic nearly lost his balance. Nobody had ever sucked him this good or this deep.
Yoshi looked up, his dark eyes peering through the thick fringe that obscured half of his face. “You like this?” he asked.
The mechanic nodded.
Yoshi unbuckled Mack’s jeans and let the denim fall to his ankles. He sucked one fat, swollen testicle onto his tongue, getting it sloppy and wet, before swapping it for the other. He heard the mechanic moaning in bliss. While he sucked, he put a daring plan into motion. He wet the index and middle finger of his right hand, coating them in saliva, before reaching up to delicately part the mechanic’s hairy cheeks. The emo tickled Mack’s arsehole, just lightly.
Nobody had ever touched Mack’s anus before, and the feeling was indescribable. As the emo’s fingers massaged the tender, virgin opening of his anus, his thighs tensed, and his balls began to twitch.
The first lightning bolt of cum smashed into the emo’s tonsils, nearly making him gag. It was mostly semen, but the payoff of rich, thick sperm was still to come. He swallowed hard, just in time for the second, gooey volley to fire into the back of his throat. The mechanic’s knees buckled and twitched as his hands held the emo’s head in place. The third pulse oozed thickly onto the emo’s tongue. He moaned; it tasted so good. He stroked the mechanic’s enormous shaft, coaxing out the rest of his sweet load.
Yoshi’s mouth was full as the mechanic’s unborn babies swam laps from cheek to cheek. He swallowed his delicious prize and flopped out his tongue like a filthy slut.
“Fuck, punk, I need to sit down,” Mack confessed. His pants were still around his ankles as his dick began to deflate. “You really know how to suck cock.”
“There’s a ton of other stuff I know how to do too,” grinned the emo, the salty taste of his host still thick on his tongue.
Yoshi sat on the couch next to Mack. He leaned into him, but only gently. He wanted to make sure their bodies remained in contact as they sat side by side.
“Gonna take your boots off,” said the emo. “Help you feel a little more comfortable.”
Mack’s floppy cock was spent. The emo had sucked so much cum out of him there was no way he could go again. “Why, punk?”
“You’ll see,” Yoshi replied with an evil grin. “It’s a surprise.” He jumped off the couch, untied the laces of his host’s boots, pulled them off, and placed the shoes neatly, side by side, next to the couch. He pulled the mechanic’s socks off, then his jeans, then his undies. Mack was naked from the waist down, and the emo could barely tear his eyes from his beautiful penis. “You OK, big guy?” Yoshi’s mouth was still full of the taste of the mechanic’s thick load.
Mack nodded.
The emo smiled. “Then lay back,” he said. He grabbed the mechanic’s ankles, lifted them up and pushed them back. Before he knew it, Mack was pressed back onto the couch with his legs in the air. His head nearly slammed into the wall. “What are you doing?” he asked.
Yoshi stared at Big Mack’s sesame-seed buns. His naked arse cheeks were hairy, freckled and fat. “You’ve got a really nice bum, big guy. Juicy.” He began to salivate; Mack’s hairy hole looked delicious. He moved closer, and the acrid, masculine scent of the mechanic’s blue-collar arsehole poured into his nostrils.
As the taste buds of the emo’s cum-encrusted tongue connected with the mechanic’s twitching hole, Mack’s eyes rolled back into his head. Nobody had ever eaten his arse before. He’d always been curious, but the opportunity had never come up, and his wife wasn’t ever gonna go there. He’d never felt anything like this in his life; not ever. All of the nerve-ending in his anus fired like cannons as the emo’s hands gripped and caressed his hairy cheeks.
Yoshi decided to roll the dice. His dick was so fucking hard right now; he was sure his undies were soaked with precum. If the mechanic was happy to let him eat him out, surely he wouldn’t object to a little digital manipulation? He slowly pushed the tip of his index finger into Mack’s tight, virgin anus, testing the waters. One knuckle at first, then a second.
“Stop, punk,” whispered the mechanic. “I don’t know if I want that.”
Yoshi pulled his finger back out straight away. “Too soon?”
“Yeah … maybe … definitely too soon.”
The emo looked confused, and Mack tried to explain. “I liked feeling your tongue up there, punk, but … I’m not sure about how I feel being … fingered, I guess.”
Yoshi wouldn’t call the second knuckle of his index finger penetration — fuck, it wasn’t even a tickle — but hey, it was probably the first time the mechanic had ever felt anything inside his shithole other than a thick turd. “Do you want me to go?”
Mack turned the question around the other way. “Do *you* want to leave?”
“Well, no, not really.” He knew his face smelled like the mechanic’s sweaty arse.
“I’m not kicking you out, punk … but I guess I’m not ready for that yet.” He planted his feet back on the floor as his wet, naked arse parked itself on the cushion.
Yoshi sat beside him, gazing again at the mechanic’s awesome endowment. Fuck, he’d love to feel that inside him one day, but it probably wouldn’t happen tonight. “I’m sorry, big guy. I didn’t know.”
Mack wrapped a hairy arm around the emo’s shoulders, and Yoshi inhaled the musky scent of the mechanic’s pits. “All good.”
They sat in silence for a few moments. Yoshi’s face and hair reeked of arse. “What do you want to do?” he asked.
“I’m not sure, punk,” confessed the mechanic. “Can we just sit here for a while?” His thick, flaccid manhood remained on full display.
“Sure,” said the emo. They sat quietly for a while, each lost in their own thoughts.
Yoshi wasn’t sure where his host’s boundaries lay. Fuck, the mechanic had sucked his cock not so long ago, so it wasn’t like he was clinging to the last, staunch vestiges of his heterosexuality. But he couldn’t work out why a tongue in Mack’s arse was OK, but a finger wasn’t? There was no immediate logical answer, but logic is rarely a factor at a time like this, and it wasn’t the time to ask questions.
The mechanic looked across the couch at his companion. He was sex on legs, seemingly with no inhibitions or boundaries.
Mack exhaled. “Sorry, punk,” he said.
Yoshi’s eyes went wide with shock, thinking this was the end. He’d be in an uber in five minutes’ time. He looked deep into the mechanic’s inquisitive blue eyes, knowing he’d be on the phone to his wife while he was on the way home, trying to patch everything up. He stood up and began to collect his things.
“Wait a sec … where are you going?” asked the mechanic. Yoshi stood frozen, not sure how to respond. “You’re not leaving, are you, punk?”
“I thought you wanted me to,” whispered the emo. “The way you just said ‘sorry’…”
“No, no,” Mack replied, holding his palms up to suggest he’d been misunderstood. “I was trying to say I’m sorry that … well … maybe I can’t move as fast as you might want me to. I guess I’m not ready for fingers in my arse.” He paused for a second. “Please, sit back down?”
Nervously, the emo returned to the couch, waiting for his host to continue.
The auto mechanic took a few breaths. “I don’t know why I freaked out before,” he said, hoisting his arm across Yoshi’s shoulder again. “I don’t know why it felt good to feel your face in my arse, but not your finger. It doesn’t make any sense to me.”
Yoshi shrugged. It didn’t make any sense to him either.
They sat quietly for a few more moments. Yoshi enjoyed feeling Mack’s heavy, possessive arm draped across his shoulders, and his senses tingled as he felt the mechanic’s hand beginning to move south, starting to explore his hairless chest.
The emo’s breath caught in his throat as he felt thick fingertips searching for his nipple. Finally, the mechanic was making a move. “Oh my god,” he gasped, squirming around on the couch. “That feels so good.” His dick strained at the zipper of his black cutoffs as he felt the mechanic’s fingers pinching and tweaking. He looked across the couch with dark puppydog eyes and a loose jaw.
The words came out of the emo’s mouth before he could even process them. “You wanna fuck me, daddy?”
Their worlds froze for seconds that stretched like elastic.
Mack looked deep into Yoshi’s eyes. “What did you just say?” He pinched the emo’s nipple harder, and the half-Japanese kid nearly sprinkled in his pants.
“You wanna fuck my pussy?” repeated the emo, peering through his floppy hair. “It’s OK if you do. I know you’re big,” he whispered, reaching over to give his host’s thick shaft a little squeeze, “but …”
The way the emo looked up at him, biting his pierced bottom lip, peering through his fringe … the way he called his hole his ‘pussy’ …
The dam finally burst. “You’re mine tonight, you skinny fuckin’ punk,” he roared. He picked the skinny emo up in his strong arms and carried him to his bedroom, turning on the bright ceiling light.
Yoshi nearly squealed in delight as the ex-rugby player threw him down onto his mattress. He wasn’t sure whether to be a good boy tonight, or a filthy slut. “Wait!” he yelled, and the mechanic stopped dead in his tracks, thinking the emo had suddenly changed his mind.
“What?” asked Mack, still naked from the waist down.
“Lube!” screamed the emo. The mechanic’s cock was standing thick and proud. “You’ll put me in hospital! Wait here.” He climbed off the bed and retrieved the bottle from his backpack. When he came back, he found Mack’s bedroom more tastefully lit — a lava lamp on the mechanic’s bedside table was the only source of illumination. He gave the bottle to his host. “Use this.”
Mack studied the bottle in the semi-darkness. He couldn’t remember ever using lubrication before. His anti-anal wife meant he’d never had any need to. “Why’d you bring this?”
“I carry it everywhere,” the emo lied. “Never know when you might get lucky,” he said, winking at the mechanic.
Mack’s eyes widened. What a filthy slut. If his dick could’ve grown an extra half an inch, it would have. “What do I do?”
“First things first,” said Yoshi, “get a condom.”
Mack produced a Magnum. He gave it to the emo, who opened the package and rolled it on. Yoshi poured a generous quantity of lube into his palm and smeared it lasciviously all over the mechanic’s sheathed meat. Sealing the bottle lid closed, he tossed it beside the bed. Mack’s head lolled at the feel of the emo’s hands massaging his shaft and tickling his fat nuts. Yoshi knew exactly what he was doing to the big guy, he knew his hands could’ve coaxed another warm load out of him in about thirty seconds, but he wanted to feel him inside.
“I think you might need to undress me,” said the emo. “My hands are all sticky and gooey with lube. Unless you want to fuck me clothed, that is. That’d be cool too.”
The mechanic pulled Yoshi’s pants and undies off, then ripped his t-shirt off over his head. For the first time since he quit rugby, he was in the presence of a naked man. And for the first time in his entire life, he looked at another man as an object of sexual desire. His head was spinning; this was a watershed moment.
He looked the sexy emo up and down. He had a huge, thick thatch of floppy hair on his head, but the rest of his body was almost completely hairless. He’d already learned that the half-Asian kid shaved his pubes, but his chest was equally hairless. His skin was smooth. Mack ran a hand through his thick beard and wondered if the kid would ever be able to grow one of his own.
Yoshi lay back down on the bed. He lifted his legs up over his head and his painted black fingernails held his thighs wide. “What do you want to do, daddy? Eat me or fuck me?”
The mechanic nearly spurted on the spot. He knew he wasn’t gonna last very long. The emo’s arse looked delicious, but right now, he wanted to fuck it. He advanced slowly like an animal creeping up on its prey.
The emo spat on the palm of his hand to lubricate his hole — the bottle of lube was out of reach, and the lust in the mechanic’s eyes told him there was no time to retrieve it.
Yoshi felt the bottom half of the mattress sag as the mechanic knelt on it. He looked down at what he was about to receive — fuck, the mechanic’s meat was enormous.
“Come get me,” teased the emo. “My pussy is all yours tonight, daddy. Come fuck your filthy slut.”
The mechanic pressed the head of his penis against the emo’s hole and began to force it in. Yoshi’s dark brown eyes widened as he felt the insistent pressure of a fat, girthy cock knocking at his back door. The mechanic leaned forward, the emo relaxed, and suddenly, against all odds, the tip was in.
Yoshi’s senses were overwhelmed. He could still taste echoes of the mechanic’s earlier load in his mouth, all he could feel was his hungry pussy screaming, and all he could smell was the intoxicating scent of beer on the breath of the hairy blue-collar hunk towering over him.
“You wanna kiss me, daddy?” Yoshi teased, stroking his own uncut dick. “Come fuck your punk slut.”
There was no time for kissing. Mack managed two, maybe three shallow strokes before he pissed rivers of semen into the emo’s tight pussy. He groaned, his entire weight bearing down onto Yoshi’s skinny frame, nearly squashing him. The emo’s pussy pulsed and clenched as the mechanic’s fat dick twitched inside him.
Eventually, the weight became too much. “Fuck, dude, get off me,” came the protest. “You’re heavy.” He squeezed the mechanic’s cock out of his hole.
Mack flopped onto his back. For a split second, he thought about his wife, but she scattered into a million fragments as he watched the emo’s next act.
Yoshi, now fully recovered from the steamrollering he’d just endured, propped onto one elbow and delicately rolled the Magnum off the mechanic’s beautiful manhood, preserving the precious contents caught by the teat. The emo held the condom in front of his face, studying at close range the countless millions of sperm contained within it. He gave the reservoir a tender squeeze between his fingers — so warm.
He poured the delicious contents of the rubber onto his tongue and swished the liquid around for a few seconds before swallowing. “You taste so fucking good, big guy,” he said.
Mack couldn’t believe his eyes. What a filthy cumslut. As his cock began to soften and the chemicals in his brain began to rebalance, he felt attracted to and repelled by the emo in equal measures.
“You wanna kiss me?” asked Yoshi. His cock was still hard. It’d been hard for at least an hour, but he hadn’t cum yet.
“I don’t know,” came the emotionally distant reply, and the emo knew what this meant: post-nut clarity. His host had just lost his same-sex penetrative virginity, and it was landing hard. He expected the mechanic to make a lame excuse any second now.
“Your babies tasted good,” the emo insisted, trying desperately to preserve the moment. “But I’ve already gulped them all down. You won’t taste them if you kiss me.” He flopped his slutty tongue out to prove his point.
“You’re moving too fast,” Mack said softly. “This is too fast.”
Yoshi frowned. “Huh?”
“No. This is too much. This is too fast. I’m not ready.”
Yoshi’s sultry expression turned into a confused frown. “Wait, do you think I’m pressuring you?”
“Yeah,” replied the mechanic.
A weighty silence fell.
“Bullshit,” spat Yoshi, tears beginning to form in his eyes. “What an accusation,” he seethed, climbing off the bed and standing up, hot fury pulsing through his veins. “What a fuckin’ shitcunt thing to say.” His hands formed tight fists.
“I must’ve forced my way into your apartment tonight, and I must’ve dragged you unwillingly into your own bedroom. Fuck, you better call the cops. But if I remember correctly, *you* lifted me up off your couch, *you* carried me to your room and *you* threw me onto your bed. But you reckon *I’m* pressuring *you*? Seriously?” He paused for a second, shaking his head in disbelief. The mechanic dared not interrupt.
“I wanted you to fuck me tonight,” the emo continued, remembering his smuggled bottle of lube, “but did I hold a gun to your head? You wanted it too, dude, don’t fucking lie to yourself. If this is all too fast for you, you could’ve said so before you stuck your dick in me. And if you think I’m too much pressure, then watch me get dressed and watch me leave. I’ll block you on Grindr and you’ll never see me again. That’d release the pressure, wouldn’t it?” The emo paused for a moment, his fierce, dark brown eyes on fire. Tears of anger and frustration poured down his cheeks.
“I know *exactly* what’s going on in your head. You just fucked a dude for the first time, and now you’ve got buyer’s remorse. You can regret it all you want, but you can’t undo it. Look in the mirror,” he continued. “You’re pressuring yourself.” The emo paused again, collecting his thoughts and catching his breath.
“You reckon I’m too fast,” continued the emo, “but I swear I would’ve let you do anything you wanted with me tonight, including doing nothing at all. Like, we could’ve just sat on your couch watching ‘Rage’ on TV, and it would’ve been so much easier for me to chill out watching music videos than it is to work out why a tongue in your arse is OK but a finger isn’t. Pressure? Fuck’s sake, cunt, I took my finger out the very second you told me to.”
The emo prepared to deliver the nuclear payload.
“I’m sure there are a whole bunch of ugly desperadoes chasing you online, and maybe they’re more your speed right now, but for their sakes, I hope they know what they’re getting into. Sort your shit out. And don’t you dare blame me for your midlife crisis, you fuckin’ two pump chump.”
The mechanic wasn’t sure what hurt more — the piercing viciousness of the emo’s parting words, or the violence of his apartment door slamming hard enough to make him flinch. He stood next to his bed, stunned, completely motionless, barely breathing.
If a lippy scrum-half had verballed him like that on a rugby field, he would’ve busted his opponent’s nose halfway through his second sentence. But this was different. Maybe this was justified. He couldn’t tell, but he knew one thing for sure: this wasn’t at all how he thought tonight would unfold.
He stepped out onto his rented balcony and looked at the busy road beneath him. Everything was fucked beyond fixing. It was a long way down, but gravity was efficient, and it’d be a fast ride. He knew the ending would be sweet.
He stood on the balcony for a few desperate moments before shaking his head and walking back inside. He took a shower, way overtired and desperately ready for sleep, but he stripped the bed before he climbed in. His sheets smelled like the emo’s skin. He tore them off and threw them into the corner of his room. He’d wash them clean in the morning.
The mechanic spent his lonely Saturday night sleeping on his bare mattress, with only a thin cotton sheet to shield him from the rest of the world.