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  Editor: Lisa Worrall

  Cover Designer: Christine Eberle Barron

  Copyright © 2015 by Mathew Ortiz

  All Rights Reserved.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:

  This literary work may not be reproduced

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  A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

  Thank you for your purchase of this title. I sincerely

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  like myself make from writing is from the sales

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  Mathew Ortiz

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  About Matt

  Also Available

  Trademarks Acknowledgement:

  The author acknowledges the trademark status and the trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction.

  Nivea: Beiersdorf

  Chiklets: The Adams Company

  Altoids: Wrigley (Mars Corporation)

  Elmer’s Glue: Elmer’s Products Company

  The Terminator: Orion Pictures

  Steak and Shake: Steak and Shake Enterprises Inc

  Modern Family: ABC

  The Butcher,

  the Baker,

  the Custom Bike Maker:

  The Myer Triplets

  The Butcher

  By Mathew Ortiz

  Chapter 1

  Martin

  Freakin’ A!

  I’d slammed my toe against some base board! I hissed and hopped on one bare foot as I tried to get a good look at my toe, but who am I kidding? I’m in the middle of a sex club in downtown Atlanta. The halls are darkly lit and it smells of cum, lube and man skank. Good lighting is not a priority here. Well, for some it is. Some souls need mood lighting more than others. I bobbed up and down, on one foot, like some deranged bunny. Of course, my teeny little penis ruffle of a towel fell off in the commotion.

  Way to go, Martin. Giving off some major goofball vibes.

  My only saving grace is my low hangers and impressively swinging dong. I’m not huge. It doesn’t get much bigger than it already is. I’m more of a show-er than a grower so, what you see is what you get. Not that it’s done any wrong by me but… ah heck, I’m wandering again. It happens sometimes. My sister Nan says I’ve always had the attention span of a hummingbird.

  Anyway…

  I dropped my foot back to the floor and bent over to retrieve my towel—my first mistake. As soon as I showed my ass off, a rough hand grabbed my ass cheeks and fingers tried to probe my hole. I scooted away from the grabby hands, straightened up and made my second mistake. I didn’t put my towel back on. A hand grabbed my cock and balls and yanked on them. My eyes stung from the sudden pain and, when my focus adjusted, I looked into the leering face of my would-be suitor. Tall, dark, with a porn star mustache above a wide grin and furry shoulders, he was a bit pushy for my taste. Then I saw the rest of him. He wasn’t my type at all. On the squattish side, he was decked out in leather to the point of being overdone. I’m not against a fetish but it can be carried too far.

  “Um… hi.” I wasn’t really sure what to say to a naked, erect stranger who had my junk in his fist.

  “Hey, Red. Nice ass.” Leather man’s voice reminded of Bea Arthur oddly enough, deep and gravelly with a hint of tobacco and poppers—yuck. Again, I’m not a prude and have used poppers myself, but he’s already floating.

  “Hey. I’m Martin,” I replied.

  “I’m horny.”

  Oh the witty retort!

  A conversationalist he wasn’t. His death grip on me lessened and I fell from his grasp. He shifted and stood with his hands on his hips. His semi-hard penis bobbed as he talked.

  Is he swinging his hips to make it sway? Does he think he’s sexy doing that? Is he trying to hypnotize me with it? Why me?

  “You wanna play, Red?”

  He licked his lips and I tamped down my annoyance. I hated being called Red. I’m not a redhead, I’m strawberry blond, case closed. Overall, I’m not bad to look at I suppose. I’m five-eleven in bare feet, which are cute—no fungus here; nice clean nails. My strawberry, not red, hair is cut close on the sides with a short spike. My face is smooth. I’d like to grow a beard like my baby brother, Levi, but I can’t. It’s too blond and has odd patches of red and brown, so I keep myself clean shaven. Levi said I looked like Seth Fornea, the model. I said he’s full of horse pucky—but I took the compliment. I have some muscle and to be bluntly honest, I also a have small gut from too many beers and hot wings.

  My eyes are blue and my eyebrows are pale blond, so it looks like I don’t have any. But then most of the hair on my body, sparse as it is, is also blond. I have it on my head, my pits and around my junk, which I keep trimmed nicely. I mean, seriously, who wants to go down on a guy and get organic dental floss stuck in your throat?

  I’m just the run of the mill, average, bisexual, southern, single father of one who came to the Hobbins Gym and Sauna - aka Homos Gay and Suckoff - for a night of uninhibited debauchery. Oh yeah, I have a kid.

  Ouch!

  A tug at my left nipple got my attention, reminding me I needed to deal with Mr. Flingyflongy dick.

  “Too early for me, handsome.
I just got here. Still makin’ the rounds,” I said in my best southern gentleman’s voice. When you’re naked, your cock is on display and you’re asking someone to fuck, being turned down can sting the ego. Letting a guy down takes tact… unless you’re a total sonovabitch. “Not that you don’t have all I’m lookin’ for, but…” I raised my hands in supplication and gave him my best hound dog eyes.

  He grinned and pinched my left nipple again. “Later, maybe?” he asked.

  “Sounds good.” As he walked away I muttered under my breath, “When my jackin’ hand falls off first.”

  I secured my towel and resumed the prowl. Okay, that was kind of mean. I’m usually a nice guy. All my family says so. Oh yeah, my family. They are the best people on the planet. I freaking love my family. Let me rephrase that, I love my siblings. We’re a six pack of mutts. That’s what I called us, ‘the mutts’.

  First is Dodie, she’s the oldest. Dark haired and blue-eyed, Dodie is a no nonsense woman, who has a warm heart and a firm hand. Married with three kids, she lives in Miami with her family.

  Next is Graham, my big brother. He’s dark and blue-eyed like Dodie, serious, screwy and I missed him like crazy when he left home for the Marines. He used to take me fishing and hunting when we were younger, anything to get out of the house. He’s divorced now, has two kids, both boys and a new girlfriend in Nashville, Tennessee.

  Then there’s Lucy, who is one of the kindest people I know. Never a harsh word or unkind gesture, Lucy is the most loving person on the planet. With her black hair and warm brown eyes, Lucy is a true beauty. She married a wonderful man, Miles, and has, God forgive me, the homeliest little boy in creation. He’s just plain awkward. His ears are too big and he’s bucktoothed, but Lucy and Miles think he’s the most beautiful little boy in the world. The rest of the family are hoping his looks smooth out as he grows older. Lord knows his father’s a hot piece of meat. Something I would never tell Lucy. I mean seriously, like I would tell her I would love to lick her husband’s nut sack. I’m not that big of a slut.

  My sister Nan is older than me by ten months. Yeah, ten months, it’s like having a twin. A beautiful redhead, she has brown eyes like Lucy and a sharp sarcastic wit. I feel for any person on the end of that barbed tongue, it stings. Then there’s me and the youngest is, Levi.

  With his sandy blond hair and soft brown eyes, Levi’s the gentlest soul in the world. He got the raw end from our dad. More to the point, our dad, tied Levi to a post in the family barn and tried to beat the gay out of him. My dad caught Levi kissing another boy. So he decided to take matters into his own hands, nearly killing Levi in the process. After that, our dad was sent to jail, where he died and we never spoke to our mother again. She knew what was happening in the barn and had done nothing to help her youngest.

  Now, let me clear some things up. My mother and father are and were the foulest, cruelest, most horrific creatures to walk the planet. They used religion to validate the horrors they’d rained down on us. First, let me tell you about my mother. She’s the mother to all of us; that we know for sure. She’s also a heavy smoker, a hard drinker, a religious fanatic and quick tempered with a hard hand. She was also petty and jealous, so much to the point that, as Dodie, Lucy and Nan grew to womanhood; she would constantly put them down, calling them ugly or fat. A rail thin, redheaded, tit less beanpole, my mother seemed to despise my sisters’ beauty. My father was a whole ‘nother story.

  I think, and my older siblings will back me, he didn’t father Dodie, Graham or Lucy. Arnold Gaither was a scrawny, bandy-legged man with blond thinning hair and older than our mother by twenty years. My older siblings were sure our mother screwed around on our father during the beginning of their marriage. We think that’s why he was so awful to Dodie and Graham. We think they had the same father and Dad knew who he was. Both moved out before they’d turned eighteen to escape his abuse. Lucy, we think, had a completely different father from Dodie and Graham. Lucy moved in with our Uncle Cornelius and his wife as a teenager because our ‘dad’ had tried to touch her—dirty bastard. Then there’s me, Nan and Levi. We are his kids—Good God, I wish we weren’t, but we look too much like him not to be.

  I did it again, didn’t I? I mentally wandered off.

  Dodie asked me a few years ago if I’d been tested for ADD. I scoffed at first but thought about my work history. I’d had trouble holding down a job because I couldn’t concentrate long enough to do paperwork, so I got tested and it turned out I did have it. I went to a therapist and a learning specialist and my world got better. So much so, that I left driving my truck and got a job in the office of the trucking company. It’s a good solid job and I love it. Besides, the road was too hard on both me and my back.

  And the single father thing? When I was eighteen, I decided I was bisexual. I had a girlfriend, Jackie, and being the stupid kids we were we got married and, shortly after, got pregnant. We weren’t even in the six month of Jackie’s pregnancy when we realized we weren’t meant to be together. We were better as friends, only now, we had a bun in the oven. Three months later, our daughter Poppy was born. Now she’s a precocious school-age kid and a spitfire like her momma. Jackie and I divorced, amicably, and since then we’ve raised her together. Sure there have been some bumps in the road, but overall we’ve done a good job. Jackie and I have stayed friends throughout it all, amazingly enough, and for that I am eternally grateful. Hell, I even gave Jackie away at her wedding to Matthew Anderson a year ago. Yep that’s us, a totally modern family.

  Me? I’m still single and swing more toward the male side of sex partners of late. This was my weekend without Poppy, so I’d driven to one of the most notorious sex clubs in Atlanta, hoping for some mindless freaky sex with a partner or two. I know it sounds slutty but I haven’t slept with a man or woman in over six months. Thanks to Nivea hand cream, my hands are incredibly soft from near continual nightly masturbation. I needed tonight.

  So far it had been a bust. Maybe I was being too picky. I wandered the darkened halls and peered into half-open doors. The occupants cut a large swathe of humanity… the gay section of humanity that is, but none caught my interest. They were too smooth, too tanned, too skinny or too chubby. I was being picky. But I know what I like. My foot touched something cold and wet and I jerked it back.

  Ew!

  For some reason, jizz fresh from a cock is hot; cooling on the floor it’s just spooge snot. I scooched my foot on the floor, attempting to clean it off, then padded out to the pool area.

  The complex surrounded a gleaming outdoor lap pool that was only really used once a year during Pride, when it was filled with naked men and who knows what else. I came here once, for Pride and never again. The chlorine in the water had been so strong it had bleached my hair almost white.

  The hot sticky air clung to my skin and I started to sweat almost immediately. It was mid-summer in Atlanta and the mercury was bursting the thermometers. While I preferred spring, summer meant swimming, fishing and shorts and I have great legs, so why not show them off?

  I found the stairs in the pool and stepped down. The first swirl of cool water around my foot was bliss. The water lapped at my toes as I stood on to the first step. In for a penny, I pulled off my towel and tossed it onto the cool deck. I wriggled my toes and descended into the pool, shivering as my hot skin came into contact with the water. Before I’d realized it, I was up to my shoulders. I settled my butt on the bottom step and leaned back on my elbows, gazing up at the night sky. There was no moon tonight and the sky was inky black. The chirp of crickets filled the air so I closed my eyes and just listened, enjoying the lapping of the water against my skin as I zoned out. When I’m alone is one of the few times my mind stills. I don’t know how long I’d sat there when a gentle cough, from above me, interrupted my quiet time.

  “This seat taken?” the owner of the voice asked, a tinge of amusement around the words. The voice was deep, southern and sensual as heck. I slowly opened my eyes and boy was I glad I did! I took
a long slow perusal of my visitor. The first thing I noticed was he was as naked as a jay bird. Then he smiled at me. White as snow, his teeth were like Chicklets but what I really liked was the full beard he sported. It hung at least six inches from his chin and was squared at the bottom. Bushy and full, it was dark chestnut in color with golden highlights. His mustache was lighter and his mouth peeped out from the nest of dark hair. His upper lip was slightly thinner than the lower, which was pouty and begged to be nibbled.

  His strong Roman nose had a bump in it, indicating it must have been broken at least once. His dark brown hair was pulled back with a tie in a short high pony tail and his dark chocolate gaze bore into me. He had that bad boy, kinda skanky quality I found unbelievably attractive. I licked my lips and his nostrils flared in response.

  Gotcha!

  He was obviously more than a little interested by the look on his face and the way his dick had already begun to plump.

  “No, it’s free. Have a seat.” I gestured to the tread next to me and his cock bounced as he stepped down into the pool. I got a good look as he sat down. Long and lanky, his broad shoulders narrowed to a nicely sculpted but hairless chest. A massive tattoo of a skull with wings covered his pecs. The wings spread wide and crested over his shoulders. The only hair he had was a dark brown trail forming on his stomach around his navel.

  Hmm, he’s an outty.

  He didn’t have a six pack but his belly was flat-ish. The dark hair thickened as it encompassed his cock and as cocks goes, it was yummy. He had my favorite kind—the good and plenty.

  I classify cock by three categories. The first is the wedge. The wedge is larger at the base and tapers to a smaller head. The wedge is great for a first time because it slowly stretches you open during your first anal experience. It can make your first time wonderful with a delightful slow stretching.

  Second is the butt buster, not my favorite for penetration. The butt buster has a bulbous head, a thinner shaft and they’re fun for sucking but butt sex can be dicey. Getting the larger head past your outer and inner sphincter can be painful. If a butt buster is your first cock up your ass, it may be your last. Believe me. They can put you off anal in a heartbeat.