by Gia Blue
Buttsecks Rocks
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
About the Author
Doing the White Boy
Gia Blue
June 2012
Published by Summerhouse Publishing. Copyright, Gia Blue. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.
Summerhouse Publishing
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Gia Blue
http://giablue.com
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
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Chapter One
Gay men must have the best orgasms. At least, that’s what I figure, from reading about the infamous P-spot in a guy’s ass. And hey, gay guys get dicks shoved up there all the time, and they love the feeling, right?
I want it.
I just need to find a way.
My search has brought me to Darcy’s Debauchery Emporium, and having such an off-the-wall name, it’s hard for me to believe that this place does any business. Hell, I’m even embarrassed to go inside.
Except I do. ‘Cause I’m a man with a plan.
But I’m totally not gay.
Really.
I love tits and pussy, and the feel of a woman’s curves. For me, the more the better, actually.
So, yeah…why am I here again?
The bell on the door jingles when I tug it open; I’m immediately greeted by the soft sounds of jazz playing through overhead speakers. That, and more shocking pink and slut-red colors than I’ve ever seen in one place.
Now normally, I’d get all hot and bothered if I happened to be in the presence of a woman wearing these revealing outfits made of silk and lace, but hanging from a rack, eh, not so much.
Now, I could be a complete pussy and creep around the store to hunt up the dildo that’ll be my introduction to my very first butt sex…or as I’ve heard other refer to it, as buttsecks.
The thing is…I’m not a pussy. So, standing tall and proud I stride toward the back, right up to the mocha-hued woman working behind the counter. She’s hot, and gifted with really big tits. And her outfit reveals just enough of her cleavage to make me want to bury my face between her breasts and taste every inch of her smooth, chocolaty skin. To see if she tastes as good as she looks. I’m betting she does.
She straightens as I approach, displaying more of her curves to me—her tapered waist and the stunning flare of her hips. Damn. I so want to ask her out—see if I can tempt her into doing something more… I mean, other than selling me a sex toy.
I glance at her nametag and smile, earning one in return. “Hi, Evy…Davis. I’m hoping you can help me?”
Up close, the woman’s even hotter than I’d originally thought. Her lips are a juicy, berry red, and her eyes are a pale brown, like summer wheat.
Wow, look at me being all poetic and shit.
“Absolutely. What’re you looking for today? We’ve got sales throughout the store on clothing, shoes, massagers, and um…penetrative aids.”
I can’t hold back, not even if I wanted to. I burst into laughter, snort, and then finally cool my fit with a manly cough. Pounding the center of my chest with the top of my fist, I confirm, “Ahem. Penetrative aids?”
Her face remains a pleasant mask, the professional demeanor of a model employee firmly intact as she nods at me. “Yes, sir.”
Her cool attitude makes me want to ruffle her up a little, break through that work façade of hers. Catch her off-guard and see if she blushes. All over.
“Okay, then. I guess I do need assistance…with penetrative aids.”
Her smile turns into a smirk as she moves from behind the counter. “Right this way, sir.”
Sir. Huh. God, she keeps calling me that and she can’t be more than a year or two younger than me, my best guess putting her at twenty-three, or twenty-four. That formal term is making me feel kinda old.
I follow her through the store, with my focus locked on to the swaying of her hips and the curves of her large ass. An ass I’d love to sink right into, slide my cock between those luscious cheeks of hers. Show her what this white-boy can do, like give it to her nice and hard while I spank her butt, have her screaming my name until she comes.
Fuck me if my dick doesn’t just twitch in my jeans, going half hard almost instantly. I reach down to shift “Billy and the Boys,” in order to get more comfortable. Add in the fact that I’m here to get my ass fucking on, and my cock is throbbing by the time I catch up to Evy in the “penetrative aids” aisle.
“Here we are.” She reaches forward and snags a nice and thick seven-incher with her hand—a bright, glaring, purple dildo. “This one here is a Purple Yurple. Quite popular with the customers, both men and women. It’s also on sale for…”
She keeps talking, but all I can do is imagine that monster in my virgin ass, causing my hole to pucker and tighten involuntarily. “Um…got anything smaller?” I hate the fear in my voice, but dude, the thing’s freaking huge. It makes me wonder how I ever managed to convince my ex-girlfriends to try anal. A shudder wracks my body, but I don’t think that Evy noticed.
“Absolutely. I don’t mean to pry, but if you can tell me who you’re buying this for, and its intention, I may be able to help you narrow your search.”
She glances at me over her shoulder while I follow her farther down the aisle, and for the first time since I began this expedition—Operation P-spot—an unexpected blush burns my cheeks. Damn it. Throat suddenly dry, I swallow hard and lick my lips as I come to grips that I may have to go balls-out and come clean to the salesperson, like before I really hurt myself with something that’ll tear my ass apart. The last thing I need is for this to go horribly wrong because I was too much of a pussy to ask her questions.
“Uh, it’s for me. I’m…um…exploring anal sex. Right. And finding my P…spot. So, yeah, that’s what it’s for.”
Dude, I’m such a girl.
“So something a little smaller. Not a problem.” Her smile seems to have lost some of its sparkle, and having just emasculated myself, I have the sudden urge to whip out my dick and show her how much of a man I really am. That I’m not a gay guy discovering the joys of man-love. No, I’m a heterosexual that just happens to be investigating buttsecks, nothing more.
Her attention flips to the other side of the aisle, and I see things which seem to be a little more my speed. The toys are small, thin, and just the right size to find my magic button. I hope.
“These are some excellent models that are perfect for introducing someone to anal sex.”
The ones she’s showing me are all well and good, but I spy a few strap-on sets down the way, and my dick
throbs. Hard. I point to them, embarrassed. “What about those? You know, just in case I can use it with…” Blushing. Again.
Evy raises a single, perfectly sculpted brow, and her sparkle is back. With maybe a dash of interest as her gaze rakes over me from head-to-toe.
Dayum.
“Absolutely. Your girlfriend is one lucky woman. Or is it wife?”
Either she’s fishing because she’s interested, or I’ve got her pegged wrong and this is just her normal spiel. I’m going with fishing. Fuck yeah. I reply, “Neither at the moment. I’m…uh…” I cough and clear my dry throat, then flash Evy a half smile. I don’t quite know why, but I finally admit the truth to her. “I’m exploring my sexuality. Read it in Cosmo while waiting somewhere, and I’m on the hunt for my happy spot.”
That comment earns me a laugh, a soft, tinkling sound that draws me closer to her, allowing me to catch her sweet scent. The fragrance makes me want to wrap her in my arms, and hump her like the dog I am.
‘Cause yeah, I have to admit, I’m horny like that.
“At least, you know what you want.” She gives me a wink and reaches up, snags a box that professes it’s the perfect starter kit for the woman who likes to take control.
Evy hands it to me, and I eagerly look over the package to see what it includes. I’m not rich, by any means, but price isn’t a huge deal. The thing’s going in my ass. I don’t want some cheaply made dildo ripping up my butthole. Except the straps are kinda small…
Frowning, I hand the kit back to her. “Do you have something that, uh, fits women…a little larger?” I raise my eyebrows. “I date ladies with curves, and if I’m able to find someone who’s willing to try this out with me, I want her to be comfortable, you know?”
The warm smile I receive and the look of heat in her eyes, after that last comment, makes me feel like I’ve won the lottery. Damn, I haven’t even turned my “game” on, and she’s already staring at me like she wants to eat me whole.
Shit, shit, shit, my dick is rock-fucking-hard. Harder than ever, and aching too. Like I need to stroke one out before I cream my damn pants. Her enticing smile, her curvaceous body, her sweet scent and husky voice, combined with what I’m surrounded by and what I’m here to buy, has me ready to fucking bust my nut.
She turns her back to me and bends over, reaching for something on the bottom shelf, but all I see is the way her jeans tighten over her highly spankable ass. I want to nibble, lick, and bite every inch of her beautiful butt. All of it. Many times over. And I certainly wouldn’t stop there. No, I’d just be getting started.
She straightens and spins around, giving me a chance to peek at the juncture of her thighs, the blue cotton hugging her cleft, revealing a nice little camel toe for me to gawk at. God, it’s making me want to taste her. Split her lips open and lap up her cream with my tongue. I love going down on a girl, then making her scream before I pound her pussy with my dick.
I’m pretty sure she sees me staring, but I don’t give a shit.
Evy hands me the new package and I automatically accept it, take a quick glance at the image on the front and smile when I see that the woman gracing the cover is all curves, with big tits, a dildo strapped to her hips. Dayum. Man, do I want me some of that. I don’t even know if it’ll feel as good as Cosmo says, but I’d love to give it a shot.
“Here you go. Anything else?”
I shake my head, attention focused on the packaged item in my hand.
“Okay, we’re about to close, so I’ll meet you at the counter.” She breezes past me and I glance at my watch, see that the time spent with her has flown by.
I clutch the box and retrace my steps, head back the way I’d come.
Heh. Come.
Yeah, I’m gonna be coming, and soon, I hope.
Finally reaching the back counter, it’s only a few moments before Evy joins me. She taps away on the register and rings me up; upon hearing my total, I grab my wallet out of my pocket and hand over my credit card.
“Daniel Carter.” She swipes it, then hands the card back to me.
“Daniel is for work. My friends call me Danny.”
Evy slips my purchase into a bag, then sets it on the counter. “So, Daniel Carter, do I get to call you Danny?”
I raise a single brow. “Would you like to?”
She leans over, places her elbows on the smooth surface between us, giving me a rather nice look at her plump breasts. “Oh, yeah. I think I would.” Her long, manicured fingers glide over the bag holding my newest toy purchase. “I also think you would want me as a friend, too.”
Fuck it. My dick’s hard and aching, and I know I’m a perv, so I palm my cock through the outside of my pants and give it a quick tug. Shit, I really hate the fact that my jeans are keeping me from touching myself. That, and I’m out in public.
“Well, not to be too forward, but I think I can find a man’s hot spot. Especially on a man who likes curves, and stares at me like I’m the hottest thing he’s ever seen. Does that sound like anyone you know, Daniel Carter?”
I swallow past the lump in my throat as I grip my prick, a nice, firm squeeze before I answer her. “Please…call me Danny.”
Chapter Two
I’m not entirely sure how things went so wrong, and so right, all at the same time.
I’d strolled into Darcy’s Debauchery Emporium, found what I was looking for, bought it, and even flirted with a hot chick. Seriously hot. I mean, she’s so hot that it’s been an hour since I’ve seen her, and I’m still hard. Strange, considering I’ve already stroked one off.
The thing is, I left without my purchase, but somehow ended up with a date. So now, I have nothing to stick up my ass, and as of this moment, I’m out fifty bucks.
Shit. She just had to start flirting with me.
She got me so hard, that the mere chance to see her naked body and get down and dirty with her had me acquiescing to a date in no time flat. Hell, I mean, she hadn’t even finished with her conditions before I’d assented, pretty much ready to do whatever she wanted.
Now I feel like a pussy-whipped (or ass-whipped, depending on how you look at it) bitch. With the urge to find my release again.
At least, she and I are getting together tonight. I have her number, and I’m just passing time until I can go and meet her for a late dinner. And then, hopefully more. A man can dream, can’t he? I’m showered and dressed, just sitting down in the recliner and mindlessly flipping through channels.
We’re meeting at Tonio’s on Fifth. It’s a nice and quiet Italian place with cozy booths, and a very accommodating owner. I even called and requested a secluded table, eager—if rather presumptuous—for the chance to touch her while we eat… That is, if she gives me the go ahead, a sign, something. Fuck. If she were to let me, I’d stroke and pet her until she comes the fuck apart.
I seriously get off on getting a girl off.
And in my mind, Evy’s the girl I’m thinking about. All five-foot-five of her, cloaked in creamy, chocolate skin, with bouncing curls and generous curves…she’s my every birthday wish come true.
Did I mention I’m whipped already? Got to be, especially with all this poetic shit running through my mind.
A glance at the clock and I see it’s time for me to head out. I snag my cell, keys, and wallet, double-checking to make sure I’ve got everything I need for tonight, before I leave the house.
Just ten minutes away, the drive to the restaurant is quick. I’m seated almost immediately, straight to the back and nestled in the corner. The tablecloth is long enough to hide anything that happens below the waist, and it’d take a customer trying really hard, to look to see what’s going on underneath.
Perfect.
Damn, I love Tonio’s. The best friend a pussy lover like me could ever have.
It’s not long before I look up to see Evy heading toward me, the maître de leading the way. It’s only been a couple of hours, but I’m floored by her stunning beauty. She’s wearing a formfitting, little blac
k dress that’s cut low in the front, which also shows off her natural curves. Evy’s curls are pulled away from her face, and I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but I just want to nibble and kiss her neck, discover every inch of her exposed skin.
My mouth goes dry at the mere sight of her, and my dick aches, throbs, inside my slacks.
I rise to greet her, cautiously holding my napkin in front of my groin. I don’t mind Evy seeing what she does to me, but I’m not too keen on flashing my erection to the guy holding out her chair.
Once she’s settled I return to my seat. I flash a heartfelt smile as I reach for her hand, then brush my thumb across her knuckles. “You’re gorgeous.” That compliment earns me a smile that nearly melts my heart.
So adorable. And to think, this same person sold me a strap-on dildo for someone to wear as they fuck me in my ass. I certainly hope that that someone is Evy. That thought has my cheeks feeling like they’re on fire.
She licks her lips and I want to tug her close, follow her tongue with my own and taste her, get her as hot and bothered as I am.
“Thank you.” Her voice is deep, husky, and so fucking sexy it’s driving me crazy.
The waiter approaching the table draws our focus away from each other, just long enough to order drinks and an appetizer, I hope. No such luck. He’s taking his time, and I’m getting a bit antsy. I want the little fucker to leave; he’s paying a little too much attention to Evy’s cleavage.
Asshole.
“Quit glaring,” Evy warns as the waiter goes off to put in our order.
“What?” My mouth drops open and my eyebrows raise. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Liar.”
“Well…he was ogling you,” I reply, a hint of a growl lacing my tone.
“So are you.”
“But you’re out with me,” I defend myself. This totally makes sense, damn it.
