Jock Tales—Ink Cash and a Sore Ass


Jock Tales—Ink Cash and a Sore AssJock Tales—Ink Cash and a Sore AssThe pounding on the door was flying through my head like a rocket. The throbbing, searing pain between my temples prolly would have made me black out, except I just woke from being passed out. As a sat up in bed, and jumped out to head for the door, Confusion set in, as I had no idea where I was. I trip on my own big ass sized 12 jock feet, about half way, adding to the throbbing in my head. Getting up was pretty hard, as I was foggy, and vision was a bit blurry. Yanking open the door, there stood Jason from the motel. Peaking left and right from the doorway, I grab him by the shirt and yank him into the room. Glancing around, all I could say was ‘what the fuck’. Putting my hands up to my head, I then mutter “I gotta piss”. As I make it to the toilet, standing there looking down, it was only then I noticed I was not only buck naked, but sporting probably the hardest boner I ever had. The veins were popping up so full, they looked like they were about to burst. Fuck juice was leaking out of my piss slit like I had been ‘edging’ it for hours. Couldn’t even point dick downwards to piss, I was so hard. The I noticed the super tite chrome cock ring. No fuckin wonder—and that thing was not coming off until I pissed, and maybe even bust a load. So I turned to the shower, and yanking the curtain to the side,grabbing the shower rod above my head, spreading my feet about 2 feet, I relaxed as best I could, and looking up at the ceiling, finally started the stream. It went on forever—I yet had no concept of time, but I’m sure it was several minutes. Even Jason commented ‘damm cowboy’. Finally finishing up, I return to the room, and scrambling around for some smokes, finally find them. Sitting on the edge of the bed, and lighting up, I take a couple of puffs while scanning the room. It’s trashed—must have been 2 cases of beer bottles; ash tray’s full of butts and ‘dubies’ from joints; there was an empty zip lock bag on the floor, and judging from the residue, must have been at least a dime bag, if not a ¼ ounce. I spy a beer bottle on the nite stand, still about half full. I grab it and down the rest. It was kinda nasty, being warm now, but at least my head was starting to clear up. The headache was gradually subsiding, tokat escort I guess from the circulation my brain was now receiving. I look up at Jason, and just say again “what the fuck” ?“Well cowboy, I was going to ask you the same thing” he answered kinda sarcastically, then offered that check-out was over an hour ago. “Check-out ?? I don’t even remember check-in” ! I scramble for my jeans, and fishing in the pocket, pull out the biggest wad of cash I think I had ever seen. As my eyes bug out, I snap off a twenty, and handing it to Jason tell him to just go pay for another day, and then come right back. He says ok, and then tells me I should unwrap my arm and see why it’s all wrapped up like I had been in a fire or something. I suddenly notice the tingling in my right arm, and as he exits the room, I start unwinding the bandages from the arm. Once I got it off, I was stoked at what I saw. Seems I had got inked up last night, with a full ‘sleeve’, running from the back of my neck, all the way down to the back of my hand. That was a LOT of fucking ink, surprisingly more than a dude could have taken in one setting. It was basically ‘bio-mech’, but had lots of torn flesh and b l o o d! I did like the b l o o d dripping part, and the torn muscle a lot—apparently I at least did pick it out. Checking the other pockets of my jeans, I found money in all four pockets. What the fuck had happened last night ? The cash totaled up over a thousand dollars. OMG. Judging the ink on my arm, I figured that was about a thousand dollars worth in itself—so apparently I cashed in on at least 2 grand last night. WHAT THE FUCK ?? And damm my ass was sore.Jason returns to the room, and sitting across from me in the corner room, comments that my big jock dick was still pretty full, and hanging exceptionally low. He then commented that it was prolly going to stay that way, and maybe even get hard again until I got that cock ring off. I kinda smirked, and raised my right eyebrow. Taking another swig of some warm beer, I fell backwards onto the bed, now laying flat out, with my legs hanging off the edge. I give my balls a little fluff, and just put my arms up behind my head, then getting a whiff or my ripe stinkin bushy pits, let out “damm, I am fuckin loud” ! Loud was a classification escort tokat that I usually reserved for the most highest level of stink, lol. You start with musky, then funky, then ripe, then “damm bro you stink”, to “damm bro when did you shower last”, then finally just all out ‘loud’ This was a level of stench where you could smell a dude when he rounded the corner ! Usually a mid level of stink you would normally find in the crack of ones hairy unwashed ass. So, just smelling my own moist ripe pits, and Jason getting the cue, and grabbing me at the same time, the return boner took only seconds. I was again at full bone, veing poppin, piss slit oozing, blue balls aching, ready to volley status. Jason goes down on my massive jock cock, and engulfs me in one plunge, straight down to the pubes. Damm, I thought—this b o y is good. He sucks up and down my thick jock shaft, then suddenly, I pull him off. “Measure dude, measure”. He looks at me stupified, and just says “really”. Scanning the room, I find it—the gear bag. At least I knew now that the trip out to the ‘spot’ was planned, else wise I wouldn’t have had my gear bag. Fishing out the tape, I quickly place it at the base of my shaft—right in the pubes, then pull it up to my piss slit. In just a second, I jump up from the bed, tossing the tape measure to the side, and loudly proclaim “YES muther fucker—YES” Jason staring at me simply says “well”? Grabbing him by the hair, and pushing my rock hard horse cock back into his mouth, I simply reply “10 fucking inches dawg—thick rock hard jock meat—suuuuck me “!!Jason swallows my new found pride down past his tonsils. With awesome pressure from his lips, and excellent throating talent, he quickly had my head spinning. I fell back to the bed on my back again, and grabbing him around the back of his head, began a skull fucking down his throat like I never done to anyone. I could feel my thick fuck stick throbbing with each slam down the back of his throat. It actually took a while—but finally I began to bust. Impaling my meat to the bottom of his throat, I unload—one—two—three—four—five—six—-seven, and then I collapse right into Jason’s face. I continued to nut, loosing count, as Jason works with all his might at swallowing the massive thick load tokat escort bayan of juice down to his belly. He said later he thinks he detected 10 shots going down his throat—which sounded reasonable, and then the gallon of piss that followed, lol.Finally able to remove the cock ring, I vowed I would never put on a solid steel ring again—uh-uh, not this cowboy. In fact—I tossed it over to Jason. From now on just the leather snap rings, so it could be easily removed. As we both came back to our wits, and began cleaning up the room, we decided that I had hooked up big time the night before. After calling Alex, the tattoo guy at the shop, he confirmed that I came in about 8:00 last night, and described the sleeve, and wanted it done in one sitting. It took about four hours. There were FOUR guys with him, and they pitched in to pay for the ink. Jason went on to say that he didn’t notice us going back to the room, and surmised that that would explain the large amount of beer bottles, bags of weed, and wait—what’s this ?? Jason finds a few small squares of paper on the floor, then picking one up and holding it on the tip of his finger—looks at me and simply says “acid” Then recalling the same construction trucks from a few weeks ago when I was there last, we finally put together the ‘probable’ story. I came in and got the room around 7:00. Then, prolly stopping off at the grill first, went over to the tatt shop. Described the ink I wanted, prolly having already saved the money to get it done. Either about 4 or so of the construction guys come in the shop, or I run into them leaving the shop, and strike up a new deal to ‘throw down’ Back at the room there is lots of partying, beer, dope, and then they pull a ‘micky’ on me, and trick me, prolly drunk and high by now, to lick the squares with the acid on them. Now fucked up, and totally oblivious to the word, they each take turns, maybe even more guests, tappin my tite hairy jock ass. After finally getting to the ‘morning shit’, I then discover the massive load of white, milky goo that had just come from my ass, and guessed it to be around 10 loads of jizz. Well, somebody had a good time. “You know Taz, your a pretty lucky dude right now. You still got your boots, you got the ink you wanted, and a pile of cash on your ass. Actually—your pretty fucking lucky, Id say, to be alive”I gave Jason a nod, and packed up my stuff. Loading into the jeep, and heading for the road, I decided I needed to go to Austin. I needed the warm embrace of Cole Parker, and maybe some ass 🙂

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