American BeefcakeMature

This is a clip from a short novel entitled "American Beefcake: The Adventures of Bob Collins, vol. 1". There is some language, be warned.


The morning I got fired from my job, all eleven thick inches a my dick were hanging out a my pants.

But that's another story, and I ain't got room for it here. The most important thing now was rent: It was due. The other most important thing was my attitude: I didn't give a fuck. And the other most important thing was beer: my liver hurt.

What does Bob Collins do in this type a situation—a situation when he's broke without no money, sober without no beer, and just been fucked by the man without no lube? Bob Collins either drinks beer until he can't see no more or he fucks whores.

In this case, the whorehouse was closer than the bar, so that's where I went.




Usually the whorehouse is crawling with activity, but when I got there the halls were empty. It was almost like walking through a graveyard at night, it was so quiet. Only it wasn't dark outside and the sun was out and blazing up in the sky and it couldn't a been much after one in the afternoon. Other than that, walking through there was just like walking through a graveyard at night. Since I didn't have nothing better to do, I went out on the porch to sulk—because that's just the kind a guy I am.

Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking: Too bad for the guy with the huge cock. Boohoo, he don't get to fuck whenever he want. Well, I'll tell you what: I generally do get to fuck whenever I want because I run my life by one rule: You don't gotta like a bitch to fuck her. You only gotta pin her down.

So, there I was on the front porch a one a the most notorious whorehouses in Lakewood with no whores around. Since there wasn't no one around, I did what I always did when nothing went my way: I asked God to send me a whore.

Being one a His favored children, which you can tell by the huge size a my dick, God answered.

Somewhere inside the building a door opened. I heard the squeak a the hinge and the slam a the door and the click a the plunger, and it was like I was hearing a miracle right before my eyes.

I got up from the porch and turned around expecting some sweet thing to fall right into my arms. Standing on those front steps, slobbering all over myself like a retarded baboon without no bottom lip, I was curious about what kind a whore God sent me, more curious than a retarded baboon without no bottom lip. In my mind I could almost see a young blond, new to the whoring world, with fresh, unblemished skin, taut legs, and melon-like boobs. Instead a some hot young thing a big brown beast—bigger than a bear—come running through the door. I got a chance to see the dark brown eyes staring at me like I was a piece a meat; then the next thing I knew his huge paw came screaming down out a the air like a kamikaze, hitting me right across the chin. After that, the sky was very blue, bright circles danced in front a me, and I remember a lot a clouds. Something about falling—I remember feeling like I was falling down some deep hole and the blue sky being sucked up by black clouds, and then I don't remember nothing.

The End

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