No Solicitors


By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
Artwork (c) 2003 by Eduardo

Illustration of No Solicitors The knock at the door was like a hammer banging at Gordon's head. He sat up in bed, grumbling. "Damn it!" he muttered. "Who the fuck is that?" It had better not be another damned salesman, after enduring daily assaults from the scum-suckers, he had put up three signs:

NO SOLICITORS!

THIS INCLUDES JEHOVAH WITNESSES!

THIS ALSO MEANS YOU, SUCKER!!!

Anyone who knocked after all that deserved whatever he got!

Yawning, Gordon pulled on a bathrobe and opened the door. Because he didn't have the tie right then, he stepped behind the door to avoid flashing the neighbors.

And the guy walked right into his apartment! Past Gordon and into his living room, just like he was invited.

The guy was young, maybe in college and working the summer to make ends meet. His suit was a flimsy light gray model, the kind of material that tore if you looked at it wrong. A white shirt and a "power red" tie, above that was a wavy coif of brown hair that set off the cutest damned face Gordon had ever seen.

"Who the fuck are you?" Working as a trucker, Gordon hadn't ever bothered to learn the niceties of conversation.

"Come and sit down and I'll show you." the man said, "I've got right here the very thing you've been looking for!"

"I doubt it." Gordon said, scratching his nuts with one hand while the other held the bathrobe closed.

The man wasn't fazed. "I am the authorized representative of the Concellaire." the youth said. "This little baby is guaranteed to make your life easier, for very little money every month."

"What the fuck is it?" Gordon said testily.

The young man smiled. "Now, sir, you wonder what the Concellaire is, and I'm going to tell you. But first, let me explain a little about our line...."

"No." Gordon cut him off. "Get the fuck out of here."

The man didn't move. "Concellaire is one of the many streamlined models put out by the Concell Corporation, and we have dedicated our lives to making life easier on the working man such as yourself."

"I said no and get the fuck out of here!" Gordon said, stronger and louder.

"It's amazing that nobody besides us have considered the possibilities of the Concell line." the man yammered on. He didn't seem to notice how Gordon was advancing on him.

Gordon yanked him up to his feet by one arm.

And the guy kept on blathering on, "Concell is the greatest little company on the face of the Earth, we are expanding at the rate of twenty percent per year and...."

"Now listen to me!" Gordon went on, half helplessly. "I said to shut up and get out of here. I don't care what the fuck a Concellaire is, I don't want one!"

"Now, sir, you wouldn't say that once you give the Concellaire a try." the man said.

"God damn it!" Gordon said. "I'll get you out of here if I have to fucking drag you out!"

He got the salesman as far as the end of the couch and damned if the guy didn't grab onto the arm of the couch and hold tight! Gordon let go briefly and the guy grabbed on with both hands. And kept on talking.

"Sir, I can see you're a busy man and I don't want to waste your time...."

"Too fucking late!" Gordon said. "I want you out of here! Damned salesmen, can't you read the sign on the door? No solicitors!"

"And I know that's necessary to keep out the people who don't provide the things you need." the guy jabbered on.

Gordon grabbed at the guy's waistband of his trousers, planning to pull him loose by grabbing hold of the belt. But when he tugged, the guy's pants ripped across the seat.

"Hey, no underwear." Gordon snickered as he saw the pink cheeks beneath.

And damned if even this didn't shut the guy up. "Sir, I know you didn't mean to damage my clothes and I understand your frustration. Too many salesmen these days are selling garbage, and if I were one of them, I'd be leaving. But I know that you're going to want to buy a Concellaire as soon as you learn about...."

Gordon grabbed the flimsy material (wool? If so, it was a loose weave) and the material ripped further down the man's buttocks. Now the entire ass crevice was exposed, from the belt at the top all the way down to where the fly's zipper was sewn onto the junction of the leg seams.

"All right, kid." Gordon said. "I've tried being nice to you and you keep on talking. One more word about that fucking Consomare and I'm going to...."

"It's not Consomare, it's the Concellaire and when you see it, you're going to...."

"I'm going to ram my dick right up your butt." Gordon warned. "If I can't plug your mouth, I'll plug your ass and see if that shuts you up."

...you're going to want to buy two or three. You're going to want to give them as presents to everyone you know. You're going to...."

"That's it." Gordon said. He slammed the young man's buttocks and they made a satisfying plump sound in response. "This butt is getting my cock without a bit of fucking lube."

"...you're going to want to start selling the Concellaire for yourself, even. I know I did when I saw it, I just....Uf!"

Gordon's cockhead had just contacted the young salesman's butthole.

"By God." Gordon said. "I think I figured out a way to shut you up about that fucking Concellaire."

"Nobody can ever stop talking about the Concellaire....GUH-UH, HUH!"

"That's the head of it." Gordon observed. "Got it right inside that tight little butt of yours. You got anything to say to me now, punk?"

"Only that the Concellaire.... UH-GUH, UH, GAH!"

Gordon had rammed his cock all the way in to the very base. He could feel the hot young ass wrapped around his dong, steaming hot, almost bubbling around his shaft, squirming about his prick in some way. Panting heavily, he said, "Now, kid, you going to shut up or do I start ramming you hard?"

"The Concellaire.... GUH, UH, UH, HUH, HUH, UH!"

Gordon wasn't being gentle, he was slamming his cock into that butt. "Guh, uh, shit, I think you like it rough!"

"Uh, guh, sir, the, uh, Con, cell, aire, uh, uh...."

"Fuck, I'm not doing it hard enough!" Gordon wondered. "How hard do I have to fuck you to get you to shut up?"

"But, uh, sir, the, Concell, aire, is the, uh, most, won-won-wonder, ful, uh!" the man stammered.

"Go ahead and talk, kid." Gordon said. "Long as I can fuck this butt, you can talk all you want."

He was slamming his dick into that butt, fuck, it felt like so much warm pudding in there now, all soft and yielding and yet clinging to his cock at every point.

"Oh, oh, God, the, uh, the, guh, God, the Concellaire, uh, God!" the young salesman was muttering. "Shit, damn, yeah, fuck me, the Concellaire is, uh, God, the best, God, the best, you're the best, good as the Concellaire!"

"Shut up about the fucking Concellaire!" Gordon growled. "Fucking bastard, gah, damn, you little shit, I'm going to come you fucker, I'm coming, shit!"

"God, oh, God, the Concellaire, oh, oh, God, the Concellaire!" the man writhed underneath him as Gordon blasted his wads into the hot young ass. The hot smell of come soaking into clothes saturated Gordon's nose, this young stud had shot his wad in his pants! He staggered under the ending blurring sense of wellness that was the end of orgasm and as he did, he managed a weak chuckle as he sagged over and rested his weight onto the young man's body, his hand groped down for the crotch and he felt the hot wetness there, he grabbed it tight and rubbed it around, feeling the stickiness seep through and onto his palm.

"You little shit." Gordon breathed. "Next time you'll pay attention to a sign that says ‘No Solicitors,' won't you?"

"A company test." the youth breathed. "Got to enter an apartment where they have the sign and sell them a Concellaire."

"What?" Gordon said. "Even if I don't want a fucking Concellaire, whatever the hell it is?"

"You're my target." the young man said. "I come back every day if I have to until I sell it to you. Then I'll get my own territory."

"God damn it!" Gordon said. "Get the fuck out of here!"

"But, sir, once you see the Concellaire...."

Gordon had had it. He grabbed the young man, and when the youth grabbed at the couch, Gordon just snarled and yanked and the man came loose. By sheer bodily force, he threw the youth out the door and slammed it shut, leaned back against the door as the knock started again.

He heard through the door. "I'll be back, sir, tomorrow! You can't live without the Concellaire! You'll see! I'll sell you one if it's the last thing I do!"

Tomorrow. Gordon sighed. Well, tomorrow would be another round. Going to be interesting to see who gave out first. If the guy thought he'd been fucked hard today, wait until Gordon rammed him tomorrow! Gordon grinned on one side of his face. This was going to be one hell of a contest of wills!

Only...what the hell WAS a Concellaire?

THE END

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