At forty-nine years old I found myself moving to a retirement community in the desert of Arizona. My sixty-five year old partner had been through three major surgeries over six months and the move meant we could buy a house cash and, maybe more importantly, a house with no stairs. Between taking care of him after his surgeries and our move I was forced to quit my job. After a month of getting him to a point I felt comfortable leaving home alone, I went looking for a job. I just wanted something part-time where I’d meet new people in the community. Several jobs floated past my eyes on numerous job boards, but one, for some unknown reason stuck out: snack bar attendant.
People I knew thought I’d lost my mind. I’d spent years in transportation at various levels and this little $14 an hour job was quite a pay cut from my previous six-figure salary. I was okay with it though. Since I didn’t really care about the job, it came with no stress. They were basically looking for a body who could serve black coffee and stick substandard breakfast sandwiches into a microwave at six in the morning.
Speaking of which, my body had become fairly thick as of late. With nothing to do but wait until my partner needed something, I went crazy with yoga and home workouts to the point I had practically become a muscle bear. When I showed up to my first day at the snack bar facing a golf course, my manager, Don, was a little surprised at my size. He was an average looking dad type with grey hair and a typical dad body, bathed in uniform blue. I put him somewhere in his early sixties, probably just waiting for social security to kick in before he quit.
“Well, I guess I don’t have to ask if you can lift forty pounds or not.”
I wasn’t sure what to wear since the HR person never replied to my emails. Judging from what I’d seen, the employees in the golf area wore navy blue polos and khaki shorts or pants. After splitting the ass in two pairs of pants, I ended up wearing a short pair of khaki shorts that had a bit of spandex to get around my ample ass. “Don’t worry, I’ll get some different shorts. So hard to find stuff to fit when your thighs and your waist are almost the same measurement.”
He looked uncomfortable with me and with the conversation. Everyone else who worked for the golf course was either a white man at least ten years older than me or a Mexican man twenty years younger. And they all presented as being not only straight, but painfully so with their team hats and fist bumps. Every conversation seemed to involve a sports team or a video game where they got to race cars and kill hookers.
My first day was uneventful with a couple odd looks from women who’d clocked me as gay by my grooming and personality. To the men, I was just a human needed to facilitate a sale. The week ended with Don telling me what a great job I’d done all week and how I’d been the first person they’d hired in a while who could balance their cash drawer five days in a row. It was odd to be praised for doing my job. For the past twenty years I’d been the person mentoring and giving out the attaboys, although maybe nowadays it’s attaperson.
“Eric, do you know anything about golf?”
“It’s a game all about balls and holes and men won’t play it if there’s too much grass. Basically it sounds like sex in sports form.”
“That’s all games. If some of these men treated their wives as good as their putter, they’d be here a lot less.” We both had a laugh at our observations. “Anyhow, I was wondering if you wanted to join me for a game tomorrow morning and I could teach you. If you get good at it, I’d like to switch you over to the pro shop.”
“Me? You want me to give people who have been playing decades advice?”
“No, I want a good looking guy to tell the women they look good when they come out of the dressing room and to tell the men they ain’t getting their money back when they get mad and bend a club.”
“Pretty sure the women know I’m not playing on their team.”
“Doesn’t matter, they still like the compliment and the men don’t know what to with a gay so they probably won’t give you any grief.”
“You mean a gay of my size?”
“Yeah, something like that. So, how about it, I like to start at five so I get way ahead of the residents.”
“You got clubs?”
“Yeah, you can use my old set. Be good enough for a beginner like you.”
“See you at five.”
I arrived at the pro shop at just before five and leaned against the door waiting for Don. I didn’t know what to wear for golf and opted for a tight pair of pink stretchy golf shorts I got on the cheap at a thrift store and a white stretchy polo that showed off the fact the morning air was a little chilly.
“Damn man, you look like you stepped out of a golf catalogue from thirty years ago. Are those women’s shorts?”
“Get with the times Don, pink doesn’t have a penis or a vagina.”
“Clearly a man who’s never seen a vagina.” He went over and picked up a pair of shoes out of our clearance pile, “Size twelve?”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“First job was selling shoes in Chicago. Here, I’ll take these out of stock as damaged.”
I looked in the box and saw a pair of bright green golf shoes. “I don’t think these are gonna make me look less gay,” I said as I tied the laces. I looked up and, for the first time ever, noticed Don was packing. Normally his uniform pants were loose and the crotch hung low, but his golf shorts were tighter and cut higher in the crotch He was either wearing no underwear like me or very thin underwear, because I could clearly see the massive head of his cock, right down to the piss slit.
“You look like a children’s toy.”
“Thanks.” I adjusted my cock as I got up and started walking around the store getting used to the shoes. “Not bad.”
“They’ll be better once you’re on the green. Come on, let’s show you how to play golf.”
The game started out good enough. With only a minor lesson on how to drive a ball, my very first shot made it onto the green, something my instructor could not claim. My love of mini golf meant my putting skills were already pretty good. On the eighth hole Don pulled a thermos out of his bag and took a swig and handed it over to me. I didn’t think anything of it until I felt the burning of a giant swig of gin and tonic sliding down my throat. I spit and sputtered. “Jesus Don, warn a guy next time.”
He went to take another drink and then paused, “This won’t turn me gay will it?”
“No, the alcohol kills all the gay germs.”
“Ha, ha, I like you. Most of you liberals are so uptight.”
I didn’t know how to respond to his statement. I couldn’t imagine in the necropolis surrounding us there was much of a chance Don had run into many liberals or even centrists for that matter. The game continued, the thermos emptied, and our scores worsened. At the eighteenth hole nature called.
“Damn, that gin and tonic wants to get out.”
“Not too far of a drive over to the clubhouse,” I said realizing I too needed to take the pressure off my bladder.
“Fuck that, I installed a urinal in the greenskeeper building over there. That way the customers didn’t have to mingle with the gardeners. Come on.”
We drove the little cart over to a nondescript brick building with a metal door on it. I paused at the door thinking he’d want to go first.
“Come on, it’s a three header at least.”
I walked in to find he’d put a slanted trough along one wall with a water spigot at one end to facilitate flushing.
“See plenty of room.”
It felt odd being in this room with Don and the sound of us pissing filling the room. It was then that I noticed the trough had a mirror reflection to it and did a double take at the massive cock Don had hauled out. “Jesus Christ that’s a big dick,” came flying out of my mouth before I had a chance to weigh the implications of making such a statement.
He blushed, “Yeah, it’s big. Tends to get in the way a lot too.”
“You must have been popular with the women back in the day. No wonder you’ve been married for forty years.”
He laughed a little, “Not just the women either.”
The little room went silent and then Don spurted out the last of his piss in a couple of powerful shots to the back of the trough. “Really? Does your wife know?”
“Nah, but if I’d known I could still be grabbing guy’s attention at this age that look like you, I probably wouldn’t have married her. It was just the thing to do.”
Sometimes, gays can hear a little longing in a straight man’s voice and they turn into total cunts to see if they can cultivate it into something. I was about to become one of those cunts. “Still, you got kids, you and your wife must have a little bit of a sex life.”
“Nope, she hasn’t been interested since our last kid was born and he just graduated college.” His eyes darted down to my pink shorts, “Damn, no so little yourself.”
I looked down to see my dick had betrayed me. During our conversation it had become hard and grown out of the left pocket, and drooled pre-cum all over the thin white lining making it sheer. “Oh fuck, sorry Don.”
“Please, I’m flattered.” He looked down at his hardening cock that was slowly pulling his balls up with its growth. “He’s flattered too.”
“I’m not opposed to helping you out with that.”
Don grabbed a green kneeling pad and threw it on the ground in front of him. “I’m not opposed to you helping me with it either.”
I knelt in front of Don as his cock grew with anticipation. What had started as a nice, but manageable, thick seven inches had blossomed into a thick ten inch monster with a bulbous head and a very thick straight shaft. Luckily I’ve always had a pretty big mouth and easily got him to the back of my throat. With a little realignment of my esophagus with his giant dick, I started deep throating him until his sweaty balls stuck to my chin.
Don looked down with awe on his face, “I’ve never had anyone do that.”
I responded by taking his hand and placing it on the back of my head. Years of being the boss at the golf course took hold and he slipped into a dominant role without any further guidance. A chorus of deep grunts, ‘fuck yeah,’ and ‘oh God’ all culminated in him pulling his cock out to the point his head sat on my tongue and shooting his cum in my mouth. The first four slings of cum slapped against the back of my throat making me swallow quickly before I choked. After that, the remainder of his load shot and oozed onto my tongue. We stared into each other's eyes as he shared his cum with me and the look of utter sexual satisfaction made him look a bit angelic in a way with his mouth gaped and his brows slightly pulled together.
I left his cock in my mouth as I continued collecting little pearls of DNA by scraping the bottom of it with my tongue. Eventually, he pulled himself out of me and let out a big sigh. I stood up with my seven inches sticking out of my pink shorts. His knee clicked as he took the spot on the kneeling pad. I thought he’d suck my cock, but instead he spun me around, pulled down my shorts, and pressed his face into my big bubble butt.
The deep moans coming out of him as he thoroughly explored my ass with his tongue vibrated my hole and made my dick harder than I’d seen it in a while. Every little vein from my twenties returned as his wiry facial hair scraped against my bare skin. I took hold of my cock and in just a few bare strokes, my cum was flying all over the floor of the greenskeeper shed. Feeling my orgasm ending, Don withdrew his tongue from my ass and stood up.
“Thanks, I needed that,” Don said zipping up his shorts.
I tucked my deflating cock back into my shorts. “Me too. Been a while. My partner’s been ill for six months so he hasn’t been interested.”
“You know, you still need a lot more training on the game of golf. I’m not against getting up every morning and helping you out with your game.”
“Yeah, I’d be good with that. Could really use some pointers on how to use the woods.”
He slapped my ass, “From what I can tell, you have no problem handling clubs.”
The next morning we met again and jumped onto the course. This time there was no thermos of booze, just an incredibly quick eighteen holes followed by another blowjob for him and another ass eating for me. This pattern would continue for a week.
One morning, Don pulled up at my car in his golf cart with our clubs already to go. I’d chosen a mint green ensemble with tiny shorts that barely contained my commando status. He placed his right hand in between my thighs with his pinky rubbing against my balls as I rode next to him. I could see his cock fighting to get out of his pants already. “You ever bottom,” he asked as we pulled up to the teeing area.
“Yeah, why do you ask?”
“Would you with me sometime?”
“Let’s just say, I’ve made sure I was ready since the second day.”
His eyes widened and a broad grin stretched across his face, “See, that’s not fair.”
“What?”
He stood straight up and pointed to his hard cock traveling down the leg of his shorts. “How the fuck am I supposed to play with this fucker drooling against my leg?”
I laughed, teed my ball, and hit a nice shot onto the green. “If you can beat me by the ninth, we’ll go right to the shed. Otherwise, it’ll be fun to watch you suffer for the full eighteen.”
Don wasn’t a pro, but he had a decent game, especially on the course he knew like the back of his hand. He teed up, swung, and aced the first hole. I’d never seen him so focused on his game as he was for those nine holes. After he birdied the ninth another big grin appeared on his face. “It appears that you're ten strokes behind.”
I put my club away and got in the cart. “A deal a deal.”
He slammed his club into his bag and spun the tires on the cart as he took off towards the shed. Don seemed to lose thirty years as he got off the cart and sprinted for the door of the shed. Inside there was little foreplay. He had my shorts around my ankles and his tongue lubing my ass so quickly, I barely knew it was happening. Soon his tongue left my hole, the button of his shorts hit the concrete floor, and the head of his enormous cock pushed past my sphincter, taking away my breath with a whimper.
“Damn, I knew you’d feel good, but this is amazing.”
He continued pressing into me steadily until his fluffy pubes were pressed between us like dried flowers in a Victorian book. My cock drooled pre-cum the instant his cock rubbed against my prostate. He caught it with his finger and squeezed a bit more out of me, “Waste not, want not,” he said rubbing my cum on his cock. He waited for a moment as I got used to him in me, then whispered in my ear as one of his hands started playing with my nipples, “On a scale of love to rape, how do you want it?”
I grinned and answered, “Be criminal.”
With those two words of permission, he quickly built up to an alarming pace to the point I worried the he might fuck me clean through the wall I was braced against with my hands. He fucked me from a carnal place, his seed controlled his mind, it needed to get into another body. I only lasted a minute until, without any manual stimulation, my cock exploded all over the wall. He grabbed my nipples and twisted and pulled until my ass contorted around his cock and made him release inside me. Between his pulse coursing through that massive cock and the powerful ejaculation being forced through the biggest piss slit I’ve ever seen, he vibrated inside me.
We stood there for a moment, my softening cock dripping its last remnants onto the floor and his pulse slowly fading in my ass. Suddenly the room was flooded with sunlight and the silhouette of a man filled the door. “Oh sorry boss!” The door slammed shut leaving us temporarily blind and our state of euphoria shattered.
“Who was that?”
“One of the guys, judging from the sound of the engine that just took off, but I couldn’t tell which one,” Don said stuffing his cock back into his shorts. He raced to the door, but the person had already left. “Fuck.”
I walked over and kissed him on the mouth, “Not much we can do about it. Hopefully they are discrete.”
“Hopefully they don’t blackmail us.”
The rest of the week Don continued to teach me everything he knew about golf, the course, and the stock in the pro shop, but his dick stayed in his pants. I, of course, had to make the bad joke about it being a bit like closing the barn door once the horse cock was out, which he wasn’t appreciative of.
It came to a head on Friday when he told me he wasn’t going to be available Saturday for our regular lesson, but I could use his cart if I wanted to play on my own. This was the fastest I was ever relegated to taking care of myself in a relationship.
Saturday I started my game at 4:45 with the first light of the sun. By 6:45 I was finished with my game and decided to stop in to the little shed and get rid of the large coffee I’d been nursing during my game. As I stood there listening to my piss hit the metal trough, the door opened and two men walked in and waited for me to finish.
They were both part of the staff who took care of the course. One was a young skinny Mexican kid, probably nineteen or twenty, with a kerchief around his head. The other was Bob, he was a white guy in his fifties who’d been hired a few year back as part of his parole from prison. I never found out what the charges were for, but he’d kept up his workouts since getting out and his 6’2” frame was thick with muscle. He took a rag and wiped the sweat already beading up on his bald head.
“That’s the guy you saw Manny?”
“Yeah, Don was fucking him up against that wall,” the kid pointed to the brick wall and my hardened cum frozen in time in a perpetual drip.
“You that new guy they’re gonna put in the pro shop?”
I zipped up my pants. “Yeah, I think I’m starting the Monday after next.”
“You know, it would be a real shame if it came out you were getting that job because you were fucking the boss. Probably get you both fired. Imagine how his wife would feel when that got out?” Bob grabbed his crotch.
I think he thought I’d break down or something. But, honestly, Don’s big dick had awakened the whore I used to be in my twenties and I was happy to let them blackmail me like this. I walked up to Bob, grabbed the kneeling pad, and threw it on the ground in front of him. “Anything I can do to keep this between us?”
“Go watch the door Manny.”
When we were alone, Bob hauled out a thick uncut eight inches. “Suck it.”
His cock was not nearly as thick as Don’s and it was fairly easy for me to deep throat him, a talent he really appreciated. I’d bury my face in his sweaty crotch that still smelled like the Ivory soap he’d used that morning and hum onto his cock. It only took five minutes and Bob’s load was shooting in my mouth.
He quickly stuffed his cock back in his pants. “Stay there, I’ll send Manny in.”
The skinny boy came back in and dropped his pants. He had a nice average uncut cock already slick with pre-cum. I don’t even think he lasted two minutes before my oral skills had him pressing my face against his exploding cock. “Damn! You’re really good. My girl needs to take lessons from you.” With that stellar review, he picked up his pants and headed out the door.
I poked my head out the door and saw the two of them headed off on one of the maintenance vehicles. I closed the door and quickly jerked my cock into the trough, before returning Don’s cart back to its parking place.
Sunday night I got a text from a number I didn’t know and the conversation included Don and a few other numbers, “SHED 0600 OR WE OUT YOU!”
A few second later another text from the number just to me, “HAVE THAT ASS READY!”
I know I should have been scared, but I was anything but. In fact, the text made me hard instantly. I wondered who all would be in attendance at six in the morning.
The following morning I entered the shed to find Don, Bob, Manny, and four other guys who worked on maintaining the course.
Bob started right in telling me what was up, “So, here’s the deal, your friend Don here is pimping your ass out in exchange for me not telling his wife what you two have been up to.”
I stood between Bob and Don with my back to the rest of the men in the room. The scent of masculinity was making so horny. “You’re really just going to let them use my hole?” I gave him a hard wink.
His expression went from worried to almost anger.
Bob continued behind me, “Yep, every morning before you start at the shop at eight, you’re gonna be in here at six with that ass and mouth ready to service whoever comes in.”
“Don, how could you,” I asked with another hard wink and adjusting my cock so it didn’t look so obvious I was aroused.
I saw his jaw tense and the anger persisted. “You’re just a hole to me anyway. Seems only fair to share you with the rest of the boys.” He stared into my eyes as he said it in such a way it made me feel like such a whore. I loved that feeling.
Bob grabbed me by the waist, spun me around to face the room, and bent me over to suck Manny’s waiting cock. As I started working on Manny, Bob dropped my shorts, covered his cock in spit and pressed into my hole. Neither of these first two men lasted more than a couple of minutes. As Bob and Manny stowed their cocks and started out the door, Bob said, “Enjoy your new perk of employment boys.”
Luis and Wilfredo were next to spit roast me. They lasted a bit longer, trading positions a couple of times. I’d forgotten how much better uncut cocks felt in my hole, but these Mexicans were quick to remind me.
After they’d both cum, the last two men approached, Jose and John. Jose was a short chubby thirty-something Mexican, while John was a tall skinny mixed kid, probably a freshman in college working his way through the summer. Jose started in my ass and quickly unloaded in me. After he’d finished, John pushed in with his thick uncut nine-inch cock and went to town. With all the cum in my hole and the fact he’d been stroking while the other four had their go, he was quick to shoot his own load.
John left and the room was suddenly quiet and filled with a weirdness. Don was still leaned against the wall where he was when I’d first come in. I took my shorts off from around my feet and walked over to him with my erection bouncing around and swinging a long string of pre-cum back and forth. “You gonna have a go?”
He undid his pants and let them fall to the floor. His big cock bounced out like a puppy entering the room ready to play. “Put your hands on the bench.”
I leaned against the bench with my ass jutting out into the room. This time he didn’t ask how I wanted it, he just shoved his entire cock into me at once, making me scream. He didn’t stop when I screamed, he just got harder and harder with every scream that left my mouth. “It’s too much! It hurts! Stop, please!”
“Fuck you! You want to be the nineteenth hole, then that’s all you fucking are. I thought I might have to tell my wife for a minute there. I thought we were something. Turns out you’re just a fucking whore! Can’t believe all the cocks you just took and how you looked so natural doing it. You really are just a fuck hole.” He kept pounding me and stretching me out until I was sure he’d torn me open. My sloppy hole got looser and looser the more he raped me. Finally he came what felt like a bucket of cum inside me. Don yanked his cock out and I could feel cum running down my legs. “Clean this cock off!”
I knelt and sucked all the cum off his big dick. When I’d finished I looked up at him and he slapped me lightly. “Good little hole.” He stuffed his cock in his pants, “Get cleaned up; you got to open up the shop in thirty minutes.”
He left me alone in the little room. I caught my reflection in an old medicine cabinet leaned up against the wall. My cock was still drooling. I turned around and looked at my hole, purple and puffy, slick with cum. I pushed some out, turned around, sat on the concrete floor against the wall, and jerked my cock with the seven loads I’d collected that morning. When I’d finished shooting one of the biggest loads I’d ever produced, I cleaned myself up with some paper towels and went over to the pro shop.
At the end of the week, my partner commented on how happy he was I found a job I liked and was so eager to get to every morning. I told him it fulfilled me like no other job I’d ever had.
