Tropes Ch. 03

Kevin stared at Brad. "A genie? How would that help? They only have 'magic' because of internal story logic."

"But doesn't almost every genie story on Literotica have a scene where the genie gives the dude a big dick? Why couldn't a genie just give us dicks?" Brad asked while pulling up his pants. He no longer wanted to look at the flat surface of his crotch. "And balls. Can't forget the balls."

"I don't have any better ideas, so genie it is, but we should try for a genie that isn't a white girl. I don't want to end up with a pumpkin spice flavored dick," Kevin muttered. Something suddenly occurred to him. "Do we still have assholes?"

Brad reaches around and feels his ass through the pants at the same time Kevin does. "Yep. Still have a hole. That's something. If you wanted, we could eat each other's asses and then look for a genie."

"Brad, when I dine on your ass, it will end with me fucking it. Rimjobs with no orgasms would be like going to McDonald's for a strawberry shake, but the ice cream machine is down, so you just end up with a Diet Coke. No one walks away satisfied," Kevin declared taking Brad's hand and squeezing it.

"I don't know. Tasting your ass sounds pretty satisfying to me. And why do I have to be the bottom? I think I'm capable of beating your cheeks up once I get a cock," Brad said blushingly a little. He was enjoying the intimacy of Kevin holding his hand. Something most Literotica characters would take for granted given all the sucking and fucking going on, but Brad savored it.

"We could flip for it. Or do a thumb war. Or a high stakes game of Monopoly. The broke ass bitch at the end gets pounded into the mattress," Kevin teased. "Though I don't think there would be any losers in that scenario." Kevin licked his lips.

Brad stared at Kevin's lips for a second and imagined himself having a big cock that those luscious lips would wrap around. He shook his head to snap out of it. "We better get going. Do you know the way to the Sci-Fi and Fantasy section?"

"I've never been there, but I think it might be past the Incest/Taboo section. We'll run through there. I don't want to see all those nasty ass white people fucking," Kevin said making a face.

"Lead the way." And Kevin led Brad out still holding hands.

************

"Why am I being subjected to this? If I wanted this kind of abuse, I'd write for the Loving Wives section," The Author AKA UghOkay AKA Alan ranted. "It wasn't even one of my damn characters that killed that girl from the Incest story. There's thousands of other stories just like that one. Click on one and get to fapping!"

Enraged Literotica reader Melvin Munch was standing in Alan's living room. He was middle aged with a muffin top. Alan wasn't tall or athletic, but he thought he could take Melvin in a fight. Unfortunately for him, Melvin had a gun pointed right at him.

"Fag, I don't want to hear anymore of your excuses. Bald Dude was the best Literotica author and he quit after poor Chrissy was murdered," Melvin screeched. "And then that Coach Grant ruined my favorite Group Sex series 'Average Guy Fucks Every Woman He Meets' by murdering everyone with a chainsaw. Peter didn't get to marry ten women on a nude beach! You took that fap from me!"

Alan sighed. "Good Lord. These are fictional people. Do you want me to write a replacement series? I've never written a straight series, but it couldn't be that hard. 'He has a big dick. She has a cooter. He shoves it in and she cums instantly.' I'd probably have to write a paragraph about her looks while giving next to no details about the man. If the male character has a wife, I'd have to make her fat and uninterested in sex to justify the cheating because that's what straight male Literotica authors do."

Melvin's left eye twitched. "You don't have the talent to write sacred heterosexual fucking, homo! Now prepare to die like those beloved characters you killed."

Alan looked amused. "Wasn't Chrissy strangled? Wrap your fat fingers around my neck, Zaddy! Yassss!"

"Why aren't you scared?" Melvin asked perplexed.

"Because I just realized you are a moron who left the safety on." Alan kicked Melvin in the balls. He retrieved the gun from Melvin's sausage fingers and pistol whipped him. "Just leave a one star rating on a story next time like a normal person!"

*********

Sasha was convinced Michael was cheating. She had overheard him talking on the phone and heard words like 'footie', 'Corrie' and 'Dr. Who.' Clearly he was off getting a footjob from some bitch named Corrie with his pal Dr. Who.

She stared as the door opened and a sweaty Michael entered wearing a tank top and athletic shorts. "Hello, darling. Let me take a shower and then we can order dinner. Do you feel like Thai?"

"Did you work up an appetite getting a footjob from Corrie? Was her foot all sticky with jizz from Dr. Who?" Sasha asked staring daggers at him.

"Are you daft? Dr. Who? He's a fictional character from British telly who I very much doubt would be into feet," Michael retorted. "Well, maybe the Matt Smith version..."

"I heard you on the phone. You were talking about Corrie, footie and Dr. Who! Now you are trying to pass it off as some British nonsense," Sasha yelled.

Michael gave her a pitying look. "Footie is football. Real football. Not the one with all the concussions. Corrie is Coronation Street, a British soap opera." Sasha gave him a confused look, so he elaborated. "British soap names tend to be locations. They have better production values than American soaps, but they hire ugly people. Anyway, my mate Rory called me up and said 'Bruv, wanna play some footie?' And then we talked about was going on Corrie and then some chat about the female Dr. Who."

"You're lying! And you said mate. You're fucking Rory," Sasha declared poking Michael's chest. "And I'm starting to think you're not even British. Where's your top hat?!"

"Mate is British for friend. Rory already has a bird and has shown no interest in wanting to bugger me. And I'm not going to dignify the top hat remark with a response," Michael deadpanned.

"Get the fuck out! Go be with Corrie or Dr. Who or Rory!" Sasha started pushing him towards the door.

"This is my house. Why should I leave?" Michael asked. Sasha just slammed the door in his face in response. He could use his key to get back in, but he decided it would be best if she had some time to cool off from this psychotic break.

Michael walked for a while. As he turned down an unfamiliar street, he heard "Greedy" by Ariana Grande playing. He looked around for the source of the music, but found nothing. He kept walking and eventually it stopped. He noticed this neighborhood had more gay people than he was used to seeing. He noted the couples kissing and one gay man twirling in a yellow ball gown screeching "I'm a sissy!"

As he walked on, he came upon a 6'3" muscular, blond man who was completely naked holding a sign that read "Hi, my name is Chad. Will you stick your dick in my mouth? My boyfriend is withholding his huge cock from me!" Michael couldn't help staring at Chad's semi-erect cock just hanging out there in the open. It wasn't large, but it was a pretty respectable looking average sized cock. Michael averted his eyes as he realized Chad was gazing back at him and sizing up his biceps.

"Hey, dude. Wanna be a pal and fire off a load in my mouth?" Chad asked batting his eyelashes at Michael.

"Uhhh. No, thank you. And couldn't you just go to a gay bar? You're a handsome bloke. You shouldn't have to be begging in the streets like some perverted take on Dickens," Michael answered.

"Dickens? Is he on Men Dot Com or Helix Studios? The name sounds familiar. But you think I'm handsome? You're pretty hot yourself. And an accent! I've always wanted to know if British cum tastes different than American cum."

Michael quirked an eyebrow. "I don't think your country has anything to do with how your spunk tastes. Though I imagine genetics and diet are a factor. Maybe some adventurous slag could do a study on British and American cum."

"Slag? Is that British talk for beautiful?" Chad asked. He dropped the sign on the ground and started jerking himself.

"Um, I suppose one could think slags are beautiful. They are popular. Lots of admirers. And uhh, I, I, suppose you are a slag," Michael stammered as Chad brazenly masturbated in front of him.

"Pull out that cock, random British man. I don't care if it's big, medium or small. I want it," Chad begged.

Michael was torn. He had never had any inclinations towards men before, but this handsome jock begging for his cock on the street was turning him on. Sex with Sasha was always so romantic and kind of vanilla. She'd never consider blowing him in the middle of the street. And she already thought he was cheating. If you're going to do the time, might as well do the crime.

"Well, if you really need it. I have always considered myself a charitable man," Michael said as he dropped his shorts. His uncut eight inch cock swung in the breeze. He took his tank top off and handed it to Chad. "Put that under your knees."

Chad placed the shirt on the ground and got on his knees. "What a gentleman. And what a cock!" He gripped the base with one hand and pulled back the foreskin with the other. He teased the slit with his tongue as a drop of precum appeared. He licked up and savored it like he was at a wine tasting. "It does taste a bit different than Nate's." With that, Chad put the head in his mouth and proceeded with the blowjob.

This was a surreal experience for Michael. His shorts were around his ankles and a man he just met was fellating him on the street. He stared down at his girth stretching Chad's lips. That became too much for him, so he looked at his surroundings. He noticed men stopping to stare at them. One man walked over and gave Michael a high five. Another man just said "Yaaasss, kween!" Michael had no idea people pronounced the word "queen" like that.

Chad pulled off his cock. "Yum." He started feeling Michael's balls. "These are so full of cum. Are you going to give me that load?" Chad turned serious for a second. "Call me by your Zaddy's name and I'll call you by mine."

"What the hell is a Zaddy? Is that a new app or some kind of rapper?" Michael asked befuddled. He would prefer Chad go back to blowing instead of trying to introduce him to silly sounding American slang.

"Zaddy is Zaddy," Chad said like that explained everything. "Nate."

Michael wanted to tell him this was stupid, but he was desperate to cum, so he held his tongue. Zaddy sounded like daddy, so he figured Chad wanted him to say his own father's name. "Rupert," he said like he was taking a wild guess on a quiz show.

Chad seemed satisfied with that response as he went back to giving Michael a sloppy blowjob. Saliva was dripping from his chin down onto the concrete and his chest as he took more of the fat cock. Michael pondered if there was a special bib for gay men that Chad should look into.

Michael was getting close, so he put his right hand on Chad's head and started thrusting his hips. Chad stood still as Michael face fucked him in front of a crowd that had formed to watch them. The sensation of Michael's balls slapping his chin made him so happy he could cry. He had never felt more beautiful.

"Take my load, slag," Michael yelled as he started unloading into Chad's mouth. It was a copious amount, so Chad struggled, but took it like a champ. Michael pulled out before he was done and the last shot of cum went on Chad's right cheek.

Michael and the crowd watched as Chad wiped the cum off his cheek and started sucking his fingers. Michael felt his flagging dick start to harden at the sight.

"British cum does taste different than American cum," Chad declared. "Do you want to go fist me at a blueberry farm? Theses randos watching can come with us. I don't mind an audience."

Michael was horrified at what he just done. He had just cheated with a man and had loved it. Was he gay now? Was he an exhibitionist? This was too much for him to process, so he decided to repress these feelings and never speak or think about it again.

Michael pulled up his shorts. "Thank you for your, um, assistance. I have a previous engagement, so I am unable to accompany you to a blueberry farm. Good day!" And then he ran.

*********

Nate picked up the destroyed peach with cum in it and dropped it into the trash can. He had no idea why Chad would fuck a peach when there was a perfectly good Fleshjack in the drawer. Though he should probably blame himself since he had refused sex. He should feel guilty, but he didn't. He just felt relieved that Chad wasn't around and he could take a break from having insane sex 24/7. Nate loved sex, but there was more to life than sucking and fucking.

He sat on the couch and turned on the TV. The last time he had watched TV, Chad had insisted he eat his ass, so he had tried to watch House Hunters while Chad sat on his face. He couldn't even see the wall color the woman home buyer was complaining about because all he saw was ass.

"Good afternoon. This is Channel 69 News. I'm Patrick Klein and this is my boyfriend/co-anchor Tad Havins," said Patrick. "In supernatural gay news, Alvin found a merman named Merripen and did what anyone would do when they find a paranormal being: Fuck them up the ass. They are now in love and occasionally fuck chubby guys together."

"Can I read the poem? This news shit is boring," 18 year old Tad complained.

"Tad, shouting 'My boyfriend's huge balls slapping my chin. Pain! Heartbreak! Harambe! I'm a pretty boy, Daddy! Why won't you love me? Balls!' isn't really a poem. Just read the teleprompter and I'll treat you to Taco Bell afterwards," Patrick said patiently.

"Fine. And poems don't have to rhyme," Tad whined. "In costume related incest news, Winston and Kelsie Tanner ended up having sex while sharing a horse costume on Halloween. Wait. That works? Maybe I should ask my Dad to do that for Halloween. In unrealistic straight male fantasy news, 33 year old lottery winner Jerry Jenkins had a huge orgy at his mansion with literally everyone he knows. Poor maid Eva to clean up all the bodily fluids while getting plowed herself."

The camera switched over to Patrick. "In old time-y polygamy news, frontier woman Heather Harlow married two men. All of her friends and family are cool with it despite it being the 1800's. She doesn't get institutionalized or locked in an attic. In quasi gay incest news, young stepfather Duncan fucks his stepson Brant who is very femme with a bubble butt. His wife Marge is fine with it and doesn't murder her cheating husband who will literally fuck anyone with a nice ass."

"That's all for Channel 69 News today. Tune in tomorrow when the anchors will be Tommy Cho and his best friend Spencer Ford. Regular anchors Patty and Trent are taking some time off after finding a dead body." A sketch of Coach Grant comes up on the screen. "If you've seen this man, run because he wants to murder you to save you from Satan."

"He's hot. If I were going to get murdered, I'd want it to be him. Let's call him Serial Killer Bae," Tad said as reached down and grabbed his cock.

"We really need to talk about your daddy issues, Tad. This is getting unhealthy."

"Bitch, I'm only with you because of my daddy issues! You're with me because men your own age won't put up with your shit. Now shut the fuck up and buy me a chalupa," Tad ordered.

"Fair enough," Patrick said.

Nate turned off the TV. "What the fuck was that? Merman? Incest? Ball poems? Serial Killer Bae? Did I accidently do drugs?"

Nate didn't notice a blood soaked Coach Grant peering at him through the window.

************

Alan sat in his home office venting over the phone with Mandy over what had transpired earlier.

"I don't get how this is my fault. It's not like I made Brad become self-aware or Coach Grant massacre a wedding orgy. And not all of the comments on that story were bad. Here's one that's positive: 'I've never fapped so hard in my life. Five stars!' Maybe a chainsaw massacre is an underserved niche in Literotica! They should be thanking me! Not trying to kill me!"

"Alan, this totally is your fault. You created an attractive Asian male character and then had him exist to sit around and listen to the sexual exploits of possibly the worst Literotica character ever written. Then when he became self-aware and his mere presence in other stories fucked them up. My Chad blew some rando Brit on the street! Chad and Nate have been monogamous the whole series and your Brad ruined that. And your solution to take away the dicks of non-sex characters has done nothing. Chad and Nate were supposed to be cumming in peaches at a peach farm and eating them in this chapter," Mandy ranted.

"Cumming in peaches? Oh, I wonder where your hack ass got that from. And what is it with you and farms? Is there some sort of straight girl fetish for farms that I'm not aware of? And it isn't my fault that Chad is a sex maniac. You underdeveloped that character. 50 chapters of wild sex in the library, under the bleachers, using at double sided dildo at Nate's grandma's nursing home, on a yacht, in a tree house, fun with anal beads at a Native American burial ground, in a haunted house, in the morgue, ass eating at a pumpkin patch and watersports at a water park. No wonder he went nuts when Nate didn't want sex. He's going through dick withdrawals," Alan said.

"You of all people shouldn't be throwing stones for underdeveloped characters and ridiculous sex. I read 'Getting Fucked By Santa and Krampus.' You had Krampus look like Adam Driver! Saying a character looks like a celebrity is Lazy Literotica Writing 101. You could have just described how Adam Driver looks and paint a picture in the reader's mind, but no. You went all 'He looks like Adam Driver. Herp derp. I can't be bothered to do more.' Hack," Mandy shot back.

Alan was silent for a few seconds. "Okay, I will concede that wasn't my best work, but that's just how I write. I cast my stories with actors. It helps me imagine the story. I do the same when reading books or even stories on Literotica. Some authors make it hard to mentally cast an actor because they can be stingy with descriptions, so I find it useful to just tell the reader what the character looks like that way. It does sound lazy when you say it out loud, but oh well." Alan paused. "I've got an idea. Santa and Krampus will get us out of this mess!"

"Alan, I know that story got a lot of views, but I don't think anyone is dying for a sequel. What would be the story? Santa and Krampus fuck a naughty frat house? Santa and Krampus get married? Santa and Krampus solve mysteries together? No one wants to read that," Mandy said.

"I'll have you know one person did message me asking for a sequel, but that's not what I'm talking about. Santa and Krampus can murder the misbehaving characters! I'll add Drake and a few other Literotica characters to the squad. I'll email some authors to see if they have any expendable characters that they don't particularly care about. They'll just find Brad, Kevin, Nate, Chad, Michael and Coach Grant and execute them and Literotica will be saved. Everyone is happy," Alan said excitedly.

"Not me! I don't want my series to end with Nate and Chad getting their heads blown off by Santa Claus," Mandy yelled.

"It's the ending your series deserves," Alan shouted back. "Sorry. That was mean. Mandy, be a team player. Your series is already fucked and it needs to be put down. Sometimes you need to kill your darlings."

"Alan, look at this logically. You are sending a bunch of hot gay men after another group of hot gay men! How does this not end in an orgy?" Mandy asked.

Alan pondered that. "Fanny Price from Jane Austen's Mansfield Park. The biggest killjoy in literary history. She'll join The Literotica Kill Squad and make sure nothing untoward happens."