Jack Hammer

• • • • • • • • • • Jack hammers a big black stud. * * * * * * * * * *

West Campus Condos was a big new three-story building occupying most of a city block near the central UT campus.

Jack stopped at the parking garage entrance and punched in the code the condo manager had given him over the phone. The bars swung up and he pulled into a visitor parking space.

The elevator doors opened as Jack was reaching for the button. A tall black man in his early forties with a shaved head and a runner's body, wearing white slacks and a pale blue sport shirt, stepped out. "Jack Hammer?" Jack nodded and the man took his hand. "I'm Will Kemp." Jack had already talked to him on the phone. He was the condos' on-site manager.

"Thanks for getting up in the middle of the night, Will."

"It's no problem. My husband's a night nurse at the Heart Hospital, so I'm sorta used to late hours . . ."

"Husband. That's great. " Jack smiled. "How long you been married?"

Will's grin lit up the parking garage like a neon sign. "Since the Supreme Court decision. We were in line at the Travis County courthouse on the first day. Waited eight hours, but it was worth it." He punched the elevator button and the door opened. "How 'bout you?"

"Haven't found the right man," Jack answered. Will's grin grew even wider.

They took the elevator to the third floor. "I checked the garage after Laura called," Will said. "Alex's car is gone."

"What is it?"

"Silver Mustang GT. Couple years old. Nice, but nothing special."

"Sounds a bit . . . ordinary . . . for a rich kid."

Will laughed. "That's Laura for you. Doesn't mind spending money, but won't go overboard."

"How well do you know her?"

"Met her a few times. Nice lady. Not a stuck-up rich-" He broke off abruptly. "I know Alex really well. He's on the Residents' Council."

"That it?"

"Well, we've seen each other . . . let's just say 'socially' . . . a few times."

"'Socially,' huh? Does your husband mind?"

"Naw. He has the option to join in. Sometimes he does."

"Cool." Jack followed Will down the hall. "You think Alex would just up and disappear?"

"No way." Will stopped at a door and took a key ring out of his pocket. "Laura told me he'd missed a gig. Alex wouldn't do that." He unlocked the door and led Jack inside. "Wish I thought he was with Manuel . . ."

"Manuel? Who's he?" Jack looked around the living room. It was small and neat, with a little kitchen at one end. Sliding glass doors led to a balcony overlooking the swimming pool in the central courtyard. Framed rock 'n roll posters and a photo of a young Jimmy Page decorated the walls. The corner beside the couch was empty, except for a music stand, a straight chair, and a Fender Stratocaster on a stand.

"His boyfriend."

"Yeah? Laura didn't tell me about a boyfriend."

"He's new. Alex just met him a couple weeks ago. Guess he didn't tell Laura."

"You try to get in touch with Manuel?"

"Don't know how. I've never met him." Will pointed to the empty corner. "Alex's guitar and amp are gone."

"That's interesting. You know what he's got?"

"A '65 Twin Reverb and a '73 gold-top Les Paul. He just bought the guitar a couple weeks ago. About the same time he met Manuel."

"Where'd he get it?"

"Texas Vintage Guitars. You know it?"

"Yeah. Kinda out of my price range."

"So I've heard. You play?"

Jack shrugged. "A little. I sit in with the Dog Butt Band now and then." He thumbed through the spiral bound book on the music stand. Hand-written music filled half the pages. "You think Alex could have met Manuel at Texas Vintage Guitars?"

"Hard to say. He's on a bunch of things . . . The LGBTQ Students' Association, UT Business Council . . . couple others."

Will went into the condo's single bedroom. Jack followed him. In addition to the usual furniture, the room held a desk and office chair. "His laptop's here," Will said. "He'd have taken it if he was going to a meeting."

Jack looked around the room. "Anything look out of place?"

"Don't think so." Will looked thoughtful. "Let me check the closet."

Jack stepped over to the desk and opened the laptop. As he'd expected, the screen was locked.

Will emerged from the closet. "His fancy boots are gone. He wears them to every gig."

"All right," Jack said. "So he was going directly to the gig from whatever he was doing."

"Looks like it."

"Maybe a hot date . . . with Manuel?"

"Could be," Will answered. "I haven't seen Alex for a few days."

"Well . . ."

Will was looking at him with a half-smile on his face. "What now?"

"I dunno. Can't do much until morning." Jack yawned and stretched. It'd been a busy day. "Guess I should go home and get some sleep."

"Sure you feel like driving?" Will asked. "You could stay here."

Jack's cock stiffened. "That'd be all right." He probably couldn't sleep, anyway.

Will already had a big bulge in his pants. "Good. I've got a nice big bed with a vacant spot, just waiting for you."

"Guess I'm up for that."

"SOMETHING'S sure up." Will fingered Jack's hard dick through his tightly-stretched jeans.

"More than one something." Jack pulled Will's body to his and kissed him. Will kissed back, hard and dirty with lots of tongue.

"Let's go." Jack pushed Will away. "I don't want to mess up Alex's place."

"Yeah, you're right," Will said. "But, damn you're hot. Specially for a white boy . . ."

Will lived on the first floor. A voice said "Wait!" as the elevator doors were closing. It was a college boy in tight Speedos and an equally young girl in a tiny little bikini. "Hi Will," the boy said.

"Evening, Frank," Will answered. "Little late for swimming, isn't it?"

"Or early." Frank looked at the girl and she giggled. "It's just sorta . . ."

"You two been drinking . . . or anything?" Will slowly moved his finger in front of Frank's face, watching his eyes.

"No, Dad." He saw Will's frown. "Well . . . A couple beers and a little weed. We kinda had other things to do." Frank's girlfriend blushed.

The elevator stopped and the young couple got out. Will watched them carefully as they walked toward the pool, holding hands. "Guess they're all right," he whispered. "Don't want any drowning."

"Just sex in the pool?" Jack asked, gazing at Frank's retreating ass.

Will shrugged. "That doesn't get anyone hurt."

"You take your job seriously."

Will nodded. "I'm an 'all in' guy. Do it right or go home." He patted Jack's butt. "I get the feeling you're one, too."

"I guess so."

"Good. I've got a place for you to go 'all in.'"

They started making out in Will's living room-kissing passionately, rubbing crotches, and fondling each others' asses-even before the door had closed completely.

"Man," Will whispered. "You are one fucking hot stud."

"So are you." Jack unfastened Will's belt and opened his fly, then reached into his pants and gripped his stiff rod. It was long, hard, and so thick Jack couldn't quite close his thumb and index finger around it. "Jeez! You are HUNG!" He ran his fingers slowly up and down Will's rigid shaft.

"You like that big black dick?" Will tongue-kissed Jack before he could answer.

"Um . . . Hum . . ." Jack finally managed. He opened his jeans, freeing his straining cock.

"Wow!" Will fell to his knees and wrapped his fingers around Jack's stiff pole. "You've got one fine piece of white meat." He kissed and licked Jack's cock head while stroking his shaft and squeezing his balls.

"Oh yeah," Jack whispered. "That feels so good."

Will looked up at Jack. "Feels good doing it, too." He stood up. "But I want a lot more." He turned around and bent over, showing off the pretty little puckered hole between his sculpted buttocks. "Guess what."

"That's not hard." Jack bent forward and stuck his tongue up Will's asshole. The big black man moaned and pushed back, taking Jack's tongue deeper.

Will pulled away. "Come on. I'm ready for your big stiff dick."

They scattered clothes on the way to the bedroom. Will yanked the quilt off the king-sized bed and lay on its edge with his butt in the air.

Jack stood over Will, grinning. "Dude! You are READY!"

"Yeah. I don't get a stud like you every day." He saw Jack looking around. "Lube's in the nightstand."

Jack spread lubricant on his index finger and slipped it into Will's asshole. It went in easily. He moved it in and out, twisting his wrist to distribute the lube evenly, and occasionally pulling it out to add more lube.

"That's enough," Will said. "Fuck me now."

"All right." Jack smeared lube on his cock and pressed its head between Will's butt cheeks. His anal muscles resisted briefly, then relaxed, taking Jack's whole long hard length. "Wow. You are fuckin' TIGHT."

"And your cock is fuckin' big." Will clamped his ass muscles around Jack's invading pole. "I'm ready for a good hard pounding."

"You're gonna get it." Jack gripped Will's ankles and pushed them up over his shoulders, lifting his butt even higher. He fucked Will roughly, pulling almost out and then slamming home. "Hot . . . tight . . . ass . . ." he gasped between thrusts. "So . . . fuckin' . . . good . . ."

"Oh yeah!" Will stroked his stiff pole while Jack rammed him. "Hammer my ass!"

Will gasped, "Shoot it! Give me your big hot load!"

Jack went even faster. "Here you are." Boiling cum exploded from Jack's straining nuts while Will screamed and sprayed thick white cum on his crotch and chest.

"Damn! That was good." Will kissed Jack passionately. "I'm usually a top and I really needed a good hard ass-fucking."

"Good for me, too." Jack's dick softened and slipped out of Will's butt.

Will got up and turned out the lights, then stretched out on the bed. Jack moved into his arms and kissed him tenderly.

"It's gonna be your turn," Will whispered sleepily. "Soon . . ." He fell silent. A few seconds later, he was snoring softly.

Jack cuddled against Will, running gentle fingers over his shaved scalp and over the faint early morning roughness of his beard, feeling warm and content, for the moment.

The "Jack Hammer" series has been adapted from my novel "Jack Hammer: King's Ransom," a gay romantic thriller.

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Copyright © 2018 by Ken James

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, locales, organizations, or events is entirely coincidental.

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