Dave moves to a nice quiet bachelor’s town out west and makes some new friends, who welcome him with a mug of the local well-water and make him one of their own.
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Buttmunchers
December 2008
Dave was ready to settle down, tired of city life, when, as luck would have it, he found a flier in the mail advertising a great deal on a big piece of land in a small town he’d never heard of out west. Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Dave visited, spent some time there, got acquainted with the locals, and really liked the place. The one thing that struck him immediately, though, was that the town was entirely male. The residents all happily explained it away. It was an old mining town, they said, and the women had since moved on or passed on, but they got a steady influx of guys looking to settle down who didn’t mind the bachelor’s life.
And that, they all said, was exactly how they liked it.
The land deal was too good to pass up, so Dave bought the tract and built a small house on it in his spare time over the next several months. Finally the day came it was ready, just as his apartment lease in the city was up, and he moved out with just a truck full of his belongings and his dog Sparky.
Small town living sure was an adjustment for Dave, though. He went to the general store to stock up on basics and they were out of all sorts of stuff. The place didn’t even have a spot on the shelf for toilet paper!
“Guess I’ve been spoiled by the city,” Dave shrugged, “Everything always a block away whenever you need it, day or night.”
He asked the clerk for all the things he couldn’t find: toilet paper, deodorant, soap, shampoo, all the basics were nowhere to be found. The clerk looked at him, smiled, and said,
“You must be new here. Just move from the city?”
“Uh, yeah, is it that obvious? Guess I’m used to city living, it’ll take me a bit to adjust.”
“Oh, don’t worry, everyone goes through it. But you adjust faster than you’d think, and once you’ve adjusted, once you’re one of us, you’ll never look back.” He gave Dave a reassuring smile and told him to wait just a moment. The clerk wandered into the back room of the store and came back with a few rolls of toilet paper, some deodorant, soap, shampoo, all the things Dave had asked for.
“You gonna get more of this in stock soon? I don’t know how long these rolls are gonna last me.”
“Don’t worry, man, if you really need more, we’ll have more.” The clerk smiled reassuringly again and gave Dave a pat on the back as he left.
Over time Dave settled in and really liked the town, and made friends with a number of the guys around. Jack, one of his new friends, routinely invited him to hang out at a bar in the center of town, but for weeks Dave politely declined.
“Too much to do around the house, man, gotta get it ready for winter.”
But finally one day Jack insisted. “Dave, come on, man, you’ve been here 2 months and you haven’t come out for so much as a drink. The locals want to get to know the new guy! It’s a small town, remember? We’re a community.”
Finally, Dave agreed, half out of guilt and half out of the realization that Jack was right—he probably had been working too hard, and could find the time for just one night of drinking and meeting the rest of the town.
They met down at the bar in the center of the town, just a little place with no sign, no name. As soon as he walked in, Dave noticed a bunch of oddly-shaped pieces of furniture in the bar, swooping curves kind of like saddles, or like chaises but not quite, and asked about them.
“Oh, those,” Jack chuckled, “That’s old equipment from the mining days.”
But that’s all he’d say. Dave pressed, asking what on Earth they could possibly have been used for, but Jack waved him off and asked instead what he wanted to drink.
Halfway through the night, Jack noticed Dave’s glass was once again empty.
“I’ll take another one of the same,” Dave said, but Jack waved dismissively and instead gestured to the bartender, who replied with a knowing nod and a wink, and came back over with a mug full of a dark, thick liquid. A hush fell over the club and men gathered around Dave, who found himself uncomfortably in the center of all the attention.
“You’ve been here long enough, Dave, now you’re ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“There’s a well in the center of town, a well that runs with this special liquid.”
“Everyone told me that well was dry.”
“The liquid in that well is so secret, that’s what we tell all the outsiders. But now you’re one of us, and part of being one of us is enjoying a big mug full of that well-water.”
“This doesn’t look like water,” Dave said, his brow furrowing in concern, “This looks like...” and he leaned over to smell it.
As he inhaled it struck him and he nearly fell off his barstool. The odor was like nothing he’d ever smelled before. It was mind-blowing in its intensity. The closest thing Dave could come up with was the rankest, funkiest locker room he’d ever been in, but multiply that by ten and you still weren’t even close.
“Jesus, guys, this stuff is foul,” Dave said, wrinkling his nose.
“Oh, come on, just take a sip,” Jack urged, lifting the mug to Dave’s lips. Dave turned and tried to avoid the mug, but the crowd standing around him surged inwards, pushing up against him. A few men reached out and grabbed Dave’s head and jaw. As the men closed in on him, a new smell struck Dave: all the men stank! How had he never noticed it before? No wonder the store didn’t sell deodorant. Apparently nobody ever bought the stuff.
But more pressing concerns caught Dave’s attention again as strong hands twisted his head forward to face the mug.
“Stop it! No, stop it, guys!” Dave cried out, but in his peripheral vision he just saw heads nodding excitedly, grinning faces egging Jack on. Somebody pinched his nose shut, and Jack pressed the rim of the mug full of the disgusting well-ichor to his mouth. Finally Dave tried to take a breath by opening his lips as little as he could, but Jack seized the opportunity to pour the liquid in against his barely-cracked lips, and a little slipped through.
Dave coughed and spluttered and choked and opened his mouth wide to gasp for air as Jack tilted the mug and dumped a large mouthful of the black, thick tar-like stuff in. It filled his mouth and overwhelmed his senses. It was the most revolting thing he’d ever tasted, for sure, but there was something in the very back of it, a subtle overtone that gave it a naughty, exciting tang. Memories came flooding back to Dave, of the time he stole the root beer from the corner store and how he sipped it furtively in the back of the coat closet of his dad’s house and how it tasted better than any root beer he’d ever had or ever drank since. The adrenaline of the act left his heart racing and made it more intense, more real, more vivid.
Something about this thick, foul liquid had the same quality, but it was like it was in the liquid itself. Having it in his mouth made Dave feel guilty, embarrassed, but secretly thrilled, aroused, his heart pounding in his chest.
And once it started, it only got stronger.
“I think he’s getting it, guys!” Jack called out, breaking Dave from his trance. Dave looked around and saw all the men of the town smiling, eyebrows raised expectantly, as if waiting for him to say something. But all he could think was how much he wanted more. Not more of the liquid, per se, but more of that sweet, nasty tang, that exciting musky funk now seeping down his throat and up the back of his nose, quickly becoming a memory of the drink. He reached out for the mug and gulped the rest of it down hurriedly, and the room erupted into cheers.
“Since I was the one who brought you in here, I get to be your first, that’s how it goes,” Jack said, once again bringing Dave’s attention back to the present.
“The first what?” Dave asked, confused.
“Your first butt, of course!” Jack stood up, turned around, and dropped his pants to the floor in one swift motion. Dave’s eyes traveled down and saw Jack wasn’t wearing any underwear, and his eyes stopped at Jack’s butt. It was hairy, and surprisingly large, two meaty cheeks with a dark furrow running down between them.
“Jack, what the fuck, man,” Dave said, simultaneously repulsed by his friend’s strange display but also unable to look away.
“Oh, come on, man, you already drank a whole mug. Don’t tell me you’re still holding out?” And at that, Jack bent over a little so his cheeks spread just a bit, and farted loudly.
The other men at the bar laughed aloud and hooted and hollered as Dave almost fell back off his barstool for a second time when the smell of the fart hit him square in the face. The smell of it was awful, and intense, but now as he sat breathing in, Dave felt his cock start growing hard in his pants, and wrinkled his brow again, confused, as that same naughty sting started to permeate his mind.
“Oh, man, Jack, uh, I don’t know, but I think...”
Jack just laughed heartily. “Oh yeah? You think what? You like what you see?”
“Uh, yeah, man, I think I like what I smell!”
“Then you’re gonna love what you taste!”
Jack hopped up on one of the oddly-shaped pieces of furniture and Dave saw for the first time that it was shaped perfectly to cradle Jack’s body, knees bent and tucked up at his sides, butt reaching straight back, his cheeks spread apart. Dave could see the hairy crack now and even spot Dave’s tight hole nestled between his cheeks.
That naughty compulsion was getting stronger the longer Dave stared at his friend’s butt, so he hopped off his barstool, strode right over, and as every other man in town stared, grinning, Dave bent over behind his friend Jack and buried his face right in Jack’s butt.
A chorus of cheers rose up around the bar as Dave just rubbed his face back and forth against his friend’s hairy butt. It was really intense, the feel of Jack’s skin against his face, the moist hair matted down his crack, the sweat making it slippery against Dave, the warmth of his crack radiating against Dave’s face. Then he inhaled, and smelled it up close for the first time. Jack’s butt smelled just like the ichor from the mug. It was rank and nearly overwhelming but the more Dave inhaled the more he felt like that kid in the coat closet, hungrily enjoying his naughty prize. He didn’t even notice how wide he was grinning, now, and his breath came ragged and labored as he finally remembered Jack’s words—you’re going to love how it tastes, he’d said—and Dave opened his grinning mouth and extended his tongue.
The sweaty, matted hair of Jack’s butt was scratchy against Dave’s tongue as he pressed it flat against the bulging, swollen perineum nestled between Jack’s beefy legs. Dave tasted it and revulsion swept through his body like a wave, disgust and loathing, but that furtive lust swept through him too. The two mingled together and he smiled again and hesitantly but steadily dragged his tongue up over Jack’s hole.
His friend moaned aloud, grunting, and egged Dave on. “Yeah, that’s it, Dave, get that hole nice and wet!”
Jack’s voice brought Dave back to reality a bit and he realized what he was doing and started to gag a little, but someone standing behind him saw him pull away and Dave felt the man’s hand on the back of his head, burying his face forcibly in Jack’s butt.
“Keep on eatin’, boy, that’s some prime beefy butt for you there,” the man said, and Dave, now revolted, horny as hell, and also now a bit scared, extended his tongue again and started licking, faster now. In no time he had Jack’s ass dripping wet with saliva, and had covered the surface of both cheeks and spent ample time licking his crack squeaky-clean.
Once again the room erupted in cheers, and Dave stood up, grinning proudly at the praise. The man who’d been holding his head against Jack’s butt was still cradling the back of his head, and now stood facing him, sniffed his face, and smiled.
“Smells nice, just like a nice, dirty butt!” The man said, and pressed his mouth against Dave’s.
Dave had never kissed a man before, but the man clutching him tightly had the same smell to him as Jack had, his body odor nearly overwhelming, his clothes and skin all musky and warm and ripe. Dave opened his mouth and let the man’s large tongue wetly worm its way in, and felt the man grab his crotch and squeeze and fondle Dave’s rock-hard cock as he made out with him.
When they finished kissing, Dave looked around to see all the saddle-tables occupied by other men from the bar, pants down around ankles, other men hungrily suckling at their bare, smelly butts.
Dave felt Jack slap him on the back and looked at his grinning friend. “You’re one of us, now, Dave. A buttmuncher. Welcome to the town.” Jack took Dave’s right handed and guided it down the front of his pants, and then Jack slipped his own hand down the front of Dave’s. Dave’s heart was still racing and he still felt overwhelmed and anxious, but he didn’t even stop to think this time as Jack leaned in to kiss him. The two started making out furiously and stumbled backwards against the bar as Jack stroked Dave’s hard cock in his pants and Dave followed suit, his hand finding Jack’s large, thick cock inside his jeans and rubbing it against the damp cloth. Both of them came in unison, flooding their pants with large loads of sticky cum.
Dave chuckled to himself, thinking back to his first trip to the general store. Toilet paper? Deodorant? Now he understood. They didn’t stock that stuff here because nobody wanted it. Dave felt his sticky hot jizz soaking into his underwear and trickling down his legs. He reached down and pressed the denim of his jeans against his leg and used it to wipe the dripping cum back up to soak his crotch. He leaned his head down and smelled his armpits, dark with sweat from his evening exertion. He smiled as Jack clutched him close against his warm, musky, ripe body.
He was one of them, just like the shopkeep had said, and he was pretty sure he’d never look back. Hell, Dave thought to himself with a smile, surveying the room, it’d be hard to look backwards anyway with his face buried one after another in all these hot, dirty butts.