By Biff Fapwell
"I fuckin' love musk", I whispered as I hungrily licked his asshole. There's nothing more manly than the natural stink of man, and I was proud to appreciate it.
I told myself that appreciating the tastes and smells of men was a particularly masculine trait and that I was therefore a particularly masculine man for appreciating them. Everyone at the bookstore agreed that I was a particularly masculine man, praising me for my "beefy build" and being a "manly dude" right before I shoved my thick uncut cock up their ass. The bookstore was a great place to find other masculine men who stunk like men. Blue collar dudes who were neither self-conscious nor exhibitionistic about their bodies. In other words, Real Men.
The nearby factories would disgorge their workers at 5:00 pm, and by 5:15 the video booths would be filled with hard workers who'd put in a long shift and hadn't showered since the prior evening. I'd spend hours letting them suck my thick cock, sucking their dicks and savoring the primal essence that wafted from their crotches. As I sucked their cocks, I'd finger their assholes and if their butts were especially musky, I'd eat their ass and fuck them.
Did you catch that? I told you that I'd play with their butts to see if they were musky. But you can't really smell or taste through your fingers, can you? See, I told myself that I was into "musk", and I was. But I was also into something even more extreme that I hadn't yet admitted. I'm getting ahead of myself though.
I spotted the evening's object from across the video booths. Blond, husky, scruffy, late thirties and sweating. He was wearing a grey work shirt and matching pants. His dick was cut and small, which was actually quite perfect as I didn't like there to be any question about who'd be topping that evening. His tight muscles suggested he might have wrestled, twenty years and seventy pounds ago. In other words, he had a serious case of "Dad Bod".
As soon as his cock left his underwear, I was met with the unmistakable stink of man. Sweat, and also what smelled like petroleum. Jesus it was strong. This dude really didn't give a fuck about himself, but he was smitten by me. And as soon as my finger poked his butthole I felt his member swell in my mouth. My member swelled too as my finger slid in, greased by his natural lube. I looked up at him, he looked down at me sheepishly, somewhat embarrassed. That embarrassment evaporated as soon as I found his prostate. I withdrew my finger from his ass, smelled the musk and ordered him to turn around. It was time to eat.
Jesus his ass had a strong taste! Maybe the best I'd ever had, and I'd had plenty of ass. I couldn't remember when I'd eaten something so dark, delicious and strong. I fingered him and licked him, licked him and fingered him. The more I did this, the more musk I got on me, on my beard and on my fingers. Finally, I couldn't hold back anymore, standing up and shoving my cock up his ass in one smooth thrust.
He moaned, but was surprisingly loose. This dude looked like a closet case with wife at home, but he fucked like a pro. The fact that he knew what he was doing made his stink even hotter. His sloppy hole was the icing on the cake - there's nothing better than an unapologetic, dirty slut.
I'd love to tell you I lasted long, but the smell of his ass on my face and in my beard, his accommodating hole and the heat of the moment were all too much. I came, probably within minutes of entering him. He thanked me profusely and I dashed out.
As my eyes adjusted to the light outside, the first thing I realized was that there was more than musk on my fingers. There was shit. As I got to my car, i noticed it was on my lips and beard too. And later, I'd discover it was underneath my foreskin. Jesus, I was hard again looking at my fingers. Apparently what made him so hot wasn't just his musk. I didn't waste too much time reflecting. Instead, I intuitively plunged my fingers into my mouth and licked them clean.
That, readers, was my first conscious admission of how piggish I really am.