Hairy Men In Briefs Novels & Stories

I can barely stand without support, my body is so hot and sore with need. The group of men inside the room are all busy with their work. There are other women there too, most of them in very skin-tight dresses in various bright colors or animal prints, massaging the shoulders of the men gathered around the poker table. Men with tattoos covering most of their skin smoked cigars and wore fedoras while drinking various glasses of expensive alcohol. Their women bent over backward practically trying to please them, bending over on demand to pick up chips. It looked like a scene from a gangster movie, and maybe that was the point. It was so cliche as to be ironic.

When we finally cleared the water I pushed back against him a bit, trying not to be rude. “Thank you for your assistance, I’ll just be off,” I said, finally looking at him. Barrett. Oh hell! How … can … this … day … be … any … worse! He looked me up and down several times and licked his lips. He was wearing some kind of short shorts but I’d seen other men with the same thing. His were just a size or three too small. He wasn’t fat exactly, just weirdly disproportionate. The hair. God … so hairy! Yuck!

The isolation of the location—miles from civilization—heightened the thrill, my ass tingling with the promise of forbidden pleasures amid the natural beauty. The sound of laughter drew my gaze to a pair of men emerging from the water, their bodies glistening with seawater, a sight that quickened my pulse. The first, a broad-shouldered man with dark hair and a chiseled jaw, wore a confident grin, his swim briefs outlining a thick bulge. His partner, leaner with sun-kissed blond hair and piercing blue eyes, moved with a playful grace, his hand resting possessively on the other’s hip. They approached, their presence a magnetic pull, and I felt my dick harden in my trunks, the taboo excitement o

Before we could even look around, hands were on us. Four men—big, rough, no nonsense. One had a shaved head and a scar across his cheek. Another was covered in thick, dark tattoos that crawled up his neck. The third was lean but corded with muscle, cock already leaking. The fourth was the biggest—easily six-five, arms like tree trunks, cock so thick it looked painful even soft. They didn’t speak. They just moved.

“Leave the woman here, give me 1.5 million dollars, and break one of your legs along with both arms; then, you can leave.” Bam! The door was kicked open once again before the long-haired man managed to retort to Harvey. Around twenty men swarmed, accompanied by eight other people. The men were clad in exquisite leather suits, while the women wore extremely beautiful makeup. A sinister-looking young man with ear piercings stood in the middle of the crowd. He had slicked-back hair, and held an expensive cigar in his hand. He had an extremely dominant expression as he occasionally blew out puffs of smoke.

Hairy chests. These and more, every damn private part are on display for all to see. The ladies and women are flushed. They're attempting to conceal their most sacred parts. They each have one hand on their boobs and the other on their pussies. The guys are only covering one part; their dicks. Everywhere is tense. The people are all shivering. Some are in tears. Lucien is far more terrifying than they imagined him to be.

I told Maximus rudely and went straight for door. I unlocked its chain and twisted its lock and opened door wide open only to witness four very muscular men’s standing right on porch wearing a plain black colored short trouser and loose brown colored tunic and a fresh green colored bamboo stick in their hand, they had toned body and face which were perfectly dominating my petite figure and height..… They all kept looking at me with awed expression…. two of them even openly ogled their eyes on my body from head to toe…. “What a beauty…..” one of them who was standing behind with dirty moustache and beard murmured

He stood in front of his seat, unbuckled his trousers, and dropped his boxers before retaking his seat. 'Please Sara, leave the room', I thought. Gebhard was a tall man with a big hairy belly. His uncircumcised penis was small, just a few inches soft but very thick. His hairy ball sack hung far below his penis. Sara shielded her eyes with her hand for just a short time before moving her hand away. She was going to watch.

He grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it off over his head, revealing a hairy chest, and tossed it onto the couch behind him. The room erupted in cheers and claps, like it was the funniest thing they’d seen all night, and I felt my breath catch in my throat as I watched. It didn’t stop there. The next hand went down, and another guy had to peel off his pants, standing there in his boxers while the group razzed him about his skinny legs.

Claire counted the men. Except for the man in the wheelchair, there were at least twenty of them. Some of them had guns in their hands or had them strapped to their waists, while the rest of them stood upright with their hands locked in front of their flat stomachs. With the kind of dark and humourless expressions on their faces, one thing was abundantly obvious: this was definitely not a party with a dress code.