Manual Labor
Story Codes: MF, Consensual, Exhibitionism

Manual Labor
by Ethan Pond

He shook his head and wondered if he needed a new girlfriend.  He adored Kara.  She was funny
and smart and hot and liked hockey and, really, what more could he ask for?  Well, maybe a girl
who, when they had sex, actually let him fuck her.  It’s not that she was a prude, or cold.  But she
constantly wanted the show.  And he was tired of putting it on for her.

“I thought we were going to try, you know, the traditional sex thing,” he said.

“I know, honey, and I promise we will.  Promise.  I just really like what you do,” Kara said.

“Yeah, I know.  I’m almost sorry I showed you this.”

“I’m not,” she said.  “Not at all.  It’s really hot, babe. Seriously.”

He sighed and leaned forward hands to knees.  He was sitting on a chair against the wall.  She was
directly across from him on the edge of the bed, leaning back on her elbows.

“Come on, Bobby,” she said.  “One more time.  Please?”

“You said that last time.  It’s kind of embarrassing, you know.”

“I don’t think so.  You have nothing to be embarrassed about.  You’re a cute boy.  I was thinking of
having you do this for Courtney and Lucy.”

“There’s no fucking way –“

“I’m kidding, Bobby,” she said.  “So totally kidding.  God, relax.”

He didn’t believe she was completely kidding, but it didn’t matter.  Bobby knew what he had to do.  
He nodded and stood in front of his girlfriend who wore a grin of salacious appreciation.  He
dropped his pants and pulled on his cock looking to firm it up.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she said.  “What’re you doing?”

“What am I doing?  What do you think I’m doing?” he said.

“No, honey.  I want the whole thing.  You have to start at the beginning.”

She sat up and patted her chest.

“Seriously?” he said.

“Yes, seriously.  Come on, now, take off your clothes.”

“They’re off.”

“All your clothes.”

Bobby rolled his eyes and removed his shirt, socks, jeans and boxers.  He balled them up and
threw them in the corner.  Fully clothed Kara thanked him, reminded him about the tube of KY
sitting on the arm of the chair and encouraged him, again, to “start up top”.  

Bobby shivered his whole body as if he was a competitive swimmer about to take position and wait
for the gun.  He was trying to shake out the nerves that come from being watched.  He was not an
exhibitionist.  He dropped his chin and slowed his breathing and lightly rubbed his abdomen with his
fingertips.  His flesh perked and he drew his hands up toward his nipples.  

He massaged the tops of his pecs before drifting his hands to his nipples taking them between his
fingers and thumbs, giving each a light pinch.  His body quivered with an electric pain that rippled
through his skin into his nuts.  He shuddered and rubbed his pecs again.

He was lost in the black of his closed eyelids when an image of Barbara from the office passed
through his brain.  She was so annoying with her shrill, bossy tone.  Never wrong, not her, even
when she spilled coffee all over your keyboard while you’re on the phone with a customer. Bobby
stopped and shook her out of his head, chiding himself to get with the program and forcing Kate
Beckinsale into his brain.  Underworld.  Vinyl cat suit.  Back on track.

Bobby pinched again, and this time his cock jumped and stretched and he felt his heart gain
speed. He dropped his left hand to his hip while his right finger circled his nipple.  He made his left
hand a platform underneath his balls, lifting and dropping them again and again.  He reached for
the KY and greased his cock, then gave his balls a gentle squeeze before putting more jelly into his
left hand.

He moved his slippery left hand to his ass crack and leaned forward.  He swirled his middle finger
around the inside of his hole before driving into himself.  His breathing stuttered and jaw filled with
carnality as he prodded the interior wall of his ass searching for the sweet spot just behind his
cock.  When he found it, his eyes rolled back and his cock grew and curved upward.  He gripped it
with his right hand while his left middle finger jabbed and rubbed the inside of his ass.

Bobby worked into a rhythym and the come rose inside his intestines.  His balls clenched and his
finger became a knife stabbing his hole.  His leg muscles locked in place as Bobby felt the
inevitable orgasm upon him.  He pulled his left hand from his ass and grabbed his left nut between
his thumb and two fingers.  He pinched it and pulled it from his body as he stroked his cock.  All of
his body’s tension coursed to the base of his cock and crept into its head.  He gasped and bucked
as his cock spit.  He hardly noticed the measured moans coming from Kara.

Bobby collapsed into the chair and caught his breath.  He opened his eyes and caught sight of
Kara, who smiled, her hand down the front of her pants.

“That was awesome,” she said.  “God, you should see your face when you come.”

Bobby nodded.  She had said that to him before.  He rested his head and allowed his heart to get
into a normal, standing rate.  He sat up and looked at Kara now reclined sideways across the foot
of the bed.  He touched her knee, asking what she wanted to do next and became disheartened
when she said she wanted him to do it again.  

© 2012 Ethan Pond

Ethan Pond is a literary horror writer who vacations from that genre by writing dirty stories.  He has
also been featured in Clean Sheets.

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