Tossed Salad Days

Mark's asshole throbbed with the memory of the ten or fifteen times Justin Bieber had fucked him earlier that day as they'd ridden around Washington, D.C. in the back of Justin's armored, tinted Escalade for hours as part of Mark's prize for "winning" the Cedarville 10K since the unfortunate but timely demise of actual winner Harry Papp. Problem was, Mark wanted to fuck again. The good thing, though, is that Justin had shown an insatiable appetite for fucking him that in no way could be diminished by one of the worst concerts Mark had ever witnessed and a tidying shower afterwards.

The door to the bathroom opened and out of the flooding steam Justin appeared, a towel wrapped around his naked body at the waist, his hair, though wet, neatly in place. "Ta dah!" He threw his arms out wide and grinned, his slight chipmunk-cheeked smirk nothing less than venomous as he eyed Mark from under his bangs.

Mark laughed. His eyes unconsciously flitted to the prominent bulge - was he actually still hard?! - under the towel, then back up to Justin's black eyes. "And there he is-"

"And there he is!" said Justin, releasing the towel from his waist. His cock, which snaked semi-hard halfway down his thigh, audibly sprung up as it was released from its cotton prison, then hung, bouncing, between his slight legs. "Dinner time-"

"What's for dinner?"

Justin walked to the small refrigerator in the corner of the ritziest hotel room of the ritziest hotel - a Clarion Inn - in all of Cedarville, Maryland. He bent over, his hairless ass smiling vertically at Mark, as he rummaged through the bins at the bottom of the fridge. In one motion, he stood up, kicked the door shut, and held up two items: a bag of salad and a bottle of ranch dressing. "What say we have a salad?"

Mark looked around the room quickly. "Um, okay?"

"Hey! When Justin Bieber gets his salad tossed, he gets his salad TOSSED! Literally." And again, another sly, dimpled grin. Then a leap over the loveseat on which Mark was splayed and Justin slithered his smooth body over the cushions until his ass was flush with the edge of the sofa. He handed the items to Mark. "Take off your clothes," he hissed.

Mark's clothes were off in his seconds, his tiny dick zigzagging, pre-cum streaming from its tiny hole. "Now what?" He smiled.

"Knees-"

Mark complied. Then cocked his head interrogatively.

"First, the lube-" Justin handed the dressing to Mark "-then this-" He handed Mark the bagged salad "-then this-" He squirmed up quickly and stuck a finger in Mark's mouth. He raised his eyebrows, the onyx of his irises glinting.

Mark bit through the plastic bag and unscrewed the cap. Slowly, he lathered the tiniest, reddest asshole he'd ever seen with dollops of the dressing-

"No, put it in-"

At which Mark put the top of the bottle to Justin's hole, pressed forward as the boy moaned, and squeezed until he couldn't squeeze any more-

"That's good. Now the salad-"

Reaching a dripping hand into the bag, Mark pulled out a couple leaves of chopped lettuce-

"No, a handful-"

Mark cupped a veritable garden into his hand, then began massaging the vegetables against Justin's ass-

"Inside-"

Mark shuttlecocked his hand and fingered the whole handful into Justin's rectum several pieces at a time, his eyes growing wide as Justin's cock engorged, standing up on its own. If he'd touched his own cock, he would've cum. Instead, at Justin's urging, he grabbed handful after handful and inserted it into the boy's ass until the bag was empty. Finished, he reached up to Justin's cock-

"No, don't touch my cock. Or yours. Just...eat-"

He watched, suppressing an urge to laugh - and an urge to cum - as the salad slowly reappeared from the slight, hot-pink hole in small lurches, slathered with dressing and rectal mucous-

"Eat it-"

Mark buried his face between the perfect mounds of Justin's ass. And gulped. And gulped some more. And still more. Justin's large ball sack hit against the top of his face as he pushed his mouth tighter against Justin's asshole while the boy worked his cock. Until he was almost gagging and his cock screamed for relief-

"I'm gonna cum-"

He swallowed the last bits of salad - and what could only have been a small turd; it tasted of nothing but bitter dirt and was grittier than a crushed egg shell - and looked up just in time to catch the last three strings of Justin's cum in his mouth. Jerking his own cock twice, he came on the floor, his body a shuddering mass of flesh that he threw up next to his new boyfriend. Justin looked over at him and smiled. "Now, that's how you toss a salad," said Justin and threw a quick, thin tongue into Mark's mouth. "That's how you end a day-" He laughed.

"Yeah," said Mark. "Tell me about it-"

"Don't worry. I'll fuck you again before we go to sleep-"

"So I'm staying?"

"Of course, you are. You're my boyfriend, aren't you?"

Mark grinned.

"I'll drop you off in the morning. Then it's off to Philly-"

"Another concert?"

"Yep. Gotta give the niggers what they want-"

Mark froze. He turned his head and looked into the boy's eyes, unsure if he should laugh or not. "Oh, the niggas?"

"No, man, the niggers. They're black-" Justin grinned, his plump cheeks squinting his eyes. He raised his eyebrows up and down three times.

Mark continued looking at him until the boy sighed. Finally, he shook his head and laughed. Justin laughed too. Then sat up, his ass smearing the couch with salad, dressing, cum, and a slight streak of shit.

"Let's get a shower. I'm ready to fuck again-"

Mark was in the shower within three seconds.