In the days before apartheid, Mnr. Botha was an upcoming, handsome young stud in the heart of the USA. He spent his days swooning the boys at clubs and dedicated his time to destroy heterosexual prostitution reigns. During his glory days, there was a man he met:
At the tender age of 24, Marco Sanchez was just beginning to come into his
own. He'd taken a small, studio apartment just across the George Washington
Bridge that was still close to his family in Washington Heights, New York
City and only 15 min driving to his job at the warehouse. Life wasn't
perfect, far from it actually, but it was nicer than what he thought he'd
be able to build for himself during childhood.

His weekdays were spent working and working out, leaving the weekends for
running household errands and cleaning up his tiny space. For most people,
the size of his flat would seem tight but to a guy that grew up in a house
of 4 in a space not much larger than what he was renting, things were not
all that bad. The best part was that now he could live out his nasty
fantasies to be as ripe and raunchy as he always wanted to be without the
fear of his mother walking in or criticizing. Sure, his little bros were
just as raunchy as he, and love to visit and delve deeper into their
depravity, but Marco preferred to live alone in his own filth. Well, until
he finds another nasty ♥♥♥♥♥♥ to share his home, scents and bodily
fluids. Anyway, they have reconnected with their father and spending the
summer traveling the East Coast on his trucking route.

Never one known for exemplary hygiene, wiping his butthole till white, or
wearing deodorant, Marco enjoyed the natural smells of a man's body,
especially his own. Showering was for special occasions and dinner with his
mother and twin brothers on Sunday, but not much else. Marco was lucky
enough to work in an environment that embraced his inner pig and nurtured
his desire to get more in touch with his personal stink. The only thing
missing from his perfect little picture was a steady boyfriend.

Over the years, Marco had dated his share of guys but none seemed to last
long after he revealed his love of manstink and other raunchy
perversions. Considered by many to be a handsome guy at 5'8", a thick head
of curly jet black hair, 160lbs, 30 inch waist, size 8 shoe and very toned
body, he'd been approached and approached many guys with success but too
many of the men he met were more like boys in men's bodies and couldn't
handle the idea of natural sex and the workings of the male body. They
didn't want to ♥♥♥♥ a hot hairy, smelly manbutt...they wanted a male
version of a vagina; which Marco didn't have and definitely didn't want.

He was very surprised with the high amount of self-hatred and down-right
stupidity many of these gays had towards being male and bodily
functions. And worst of all were the long pre-sex ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ cleaning rituals
many of them demanded of themselves and him. For the life of him, Marco
couldn't imagine why someone would want to wash away all of the magnificent
smells and flavors that make sex with men so ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ hot! These guys
reminded him of the jerks his mother brought home and pretended had some
merit or necessity in life. And Marco, being the kind of guy that he is,
would rather be alone than try to convince some guy to like the nasty dirty
♥♥♥♥ he did.

All of this was ironic considering, ever since childhood, he'd been told
that all ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ were as nasty as him. I'm sure you could imagine how
crestfallen he became once finding out the truth. Once again, he was an
outsider with kinks and perversions that yelled to the world that he was
queer.

Marco awoke early Saturday morning with his usual raging hard-on slapping
against his naked hair matted stomach. Once again he'd spermed himself in
his sleep after dreaming of laying pipe inside of some dude that was hot in
the ass to get ♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥♥ and fed a gallon of salty piss. The light
through his window exposed his nighttime shame of, what looked to be at
least, 7 healthy shots of spooge trickling down his body. His throbbing
monster ♥♥♥♥ was, as always, gripped by the thick 2 inch silver ♥♥♥♥ ring
that he never takes off. Just the sight of the chunky shiny metal wrapped
around his ♥♥♥ kissed brown rock hard ♥♥♥♥ made him drip more pre ♥♥♥ into
the night's copious amount of actual ♥♥♥. Just like when he was a teenager
under his mother's roof, Marco was still spitting ♥♥♥♥ spit in the middle
of the night if he didn't get enough sex or jerk off. At that point in
time, it was yet another dry spell for the young man that was searching for
his kinky soul mate.

The sun was still yet to fully rise in the summer sky when his steel hard
♥♥♥♥ woke him, but who needs an alarm clock when your fat uncut 9 inch,
piss ♥♥♥♥ screams to be jacked to a creamy completion each morning at the
crack of dawn? With his big hazel eyes barely open, Marco was first struck
by the intense tang of manstink, piss and sweaty balls that's the signature
scent of his apartment. From wall to wall the fragrance of his unwashed
body coats every single inch of the space he made his own. Marco slid his
moist fingers across his sweaty form, as his chunky erection got thicker,
stronger and longer, setting off tingles of arousal and lust in his big and
little heads. Spread eagle and completely naked under his dirty sheets,
Marco's fat ♥♥♥♥ tented the soft foul white cotton as it rubbed against his
sensitive hooded member. Always feeling like this was the best way to greet
the day, Marco immediately wanted to purposely rub out a hot load of ball
milk into the sheets already soiled with at least a few weeks worth of nut
seed, man stink, farts and piss dribbles.

Absentmindedly, he twisted both of his ultra sensitive dimed sized nipples
whispering moans of ecstasy and pain as his ♥♥♥♥ jumped and drooled. Proud
of his handy work, skanky circles of man milk leaked everywhere his hot
♥♥♥♥ touched. Marco lowered the grubby cotton until it bunched just below
his sweaty nut sack. He cupped his full damp gonads and brought his slick
palm to his nose. The musky stench of balls was intoxicating. He could
smell the funk of his boys as well as the subtle hints of piss and ♥♥♥ that
lay trapped in each of his kinky pubic hairs. One of the best smells in the
world to the young Latino was a pair of reeking balls...his or another
guy's.

Marco was mesmerized by his impressive man ♥♥♥♥ as he gently rolled back
the tight thick foreskin covering his purple head exposing three weeks'
worth of sticky smegma. The sight of creamy white goo caking his corona and
the dried flakey bits falling away from his shaft was nothing compared to
the accompanying stench of bacteria that caressed his nose. This was one of
his master projects; how long could he go without cleaning his smelly ♥♥♥♥
without offending someone, or feasting on it himself? A month was his
record but that was shattered by a hook-up he had in Philadelphia a few
weeks ago. The nasty young Southern trucker was a "friend" of his little
brothers' they met on the road with their Papi. He promised a second
raunchy ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ when he made it up to Jersey later in the month. Marco was
attempting to, at least, give him what he enjoyed before but the daily
temptation to gorge himself on his special batch of head cheese was more
enticing that what he thought it would be. He was so ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ horny and the
aroma rising from his dirty ♥♥♥♥, balls and ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ was more than he could
take.

In one quick tug, Marco ripped the sheets off and exposed his nude body to
the glare of the morning light. He slowly raised and opened his muscular
legs, letting his junk air out. The funk of his unwiped ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ met the
sour stink of his underarms somewhere between his thick pubes and fat nut
sac. It was impossible for him to separate one raunchy scent from another
as they mixed and mingled under his huffing nose.

The testosterone in his system runs high most days but Marco chooses to let
his perverted mind run free over his playground of a body only on the
weekends, when he has the time to spend hours edging and jerking his ♥♥♥♥
to a loud, earth shaking ejaculation. From Friday to Sunday night, the only
thing that runs through the young Latino's mind is how to spread his nut
all over his apartment. God forbid someone ran through his apartment with a
black light, they would find semen stains on every square inch...including
the ceiling.

The weekend began like most others. Marco rough stroked his nasty cheesy
♥♥♥♥ knob for a few minutes, taking a moment to massage his low hanging ♥♥♥
filled hairy balls and run a finger around the ridges of his bulbous head
through the thick foreskin. Not wanting to ♥♥♥, Marco simply milked out a
few strings of sticky clear pre ♥♥♥, just to take the edge off. There was
no way he was willing to waste a drop of his creamy nut slime, so Marco
dragged his hairy paw through the growing puddles of seminal fluid covering
his taut brown torso and massaged it into his 4 inch thick curly pubes,
before licking his fingers clean of the bleachy spunk. After about 10
minutes of morning play, Marco was able to pull his hand away from his
crotch long enough to get his ♥♥♥♥ together to run around town, buy some
supplies from the supermarket and head back to his apartment to tidy up.

No sane person would call what he did "cleaning". At best he was picking
up pairs of smelly sneakers and socks, ripe skidded smelly draws and ball
sweat soaked jock straps before moving them from one spot on the floor to
another spot on the floor across the room. He was not dirty with food,
dishes or garbage but did enjoy the perfume and sights of his grimy gear
spread around his apartment. During the summer months, the aroma from the
cotton underclothes that had caressed his most private parts, let loose
with a cacophony of smells that kept his ♥♥♥♥ rock hard as he walk around
naked, tugging on his hairy balls or playing stink finger with his grimy
butthole. Marco was convinced that these scents kept him in a total and
complete stage of horniness that he didn't want to disturb, so at best he
washed dishes and cleaned the bathroom but left pairs of used and pissed
soaked gear hanging on door knobs to dry.

Outside was a balmy 85 degree day, but Marco preferred to keep his small
apartment just as steamy. He didn't even own an air conditioner. After
about an hour of cleaning and re-arranging his used and worn gear, he
pulled on a pair of shorts to cover up the crusty jock strap that he'd been
wearing for two weeks straight, to look half way presentable as he took the
trash to the chute down the hall. Marco was a size medium but enjoyed
wearing a size small jock strap to grip his big ♥♥♥♥ and balls while
showing off his fat ass through the soiled straps. His ♥♥♥♥ was bulging in
the stretchy material as sweat dripped from the tight pouch. The front
pouch was dripping in sweat and pre ♥♥♥ while the back straps were tinted
dark brown with butt mud. To be honest, it was a ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ filthy ♥♥♥ rag
that he enjoyed wearing every single moment of his life. In a pair of
obscenely small running shorts, and shirtless, Marco left his apartment
with nothing more on his mind than the long edging session he was going to
have in a few hours.

"Oh ♥♥♥♥, sorry guy." Marco managed to mumble after he bumped into the guy
getting off the elevator next to the trash chute. Two small boxes, formally
balanced on top of the other, went crashing down to the carpeted floor,
releasing its contents.

"Don't worry about it. It was my fault for not looking where I was
walking." The man replied as they both bent down to pick up the spilled
items.

"No really, it was all me. Let me help you with this." Marco responded. For
just a brief moment, both men's hands brushed against each others' amid the
wreckage, and Marco's ♥♥♥♥ jumped a bit in his ripe jock. He grabbed a
handful of pictures and videos which ranged from simple American comedies
to a few foreign films and replaced them in one of the broken
boxes. Dripping in sweat and still horny as hell, he tried to help out and
get back into his apartment as quickly as possible to release his wet
♥♥♥♥. Within moments he would've been free to jerk his fat grody ♥♥♥♥ in
peace except he accidently took a peek at the pictures on the back of one
of the movie jackets. ♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥, was the title. Maybe his solo
jerk off was about to be more interesting.

"Here, let me get those." The man said as he began to slightly turn red,
seeing Marco eye the now obviously large stash of ♥♥♥♥ porn. He attempted
to grab as many videos as he could from the young Latino without causing
any more alarm. Inside his chest, his heart was racing with embarrassment
but not as much as one would think.

"You have a nice movie collection here, something to rival my own." Marco
said casually, as he freely flipped through more of the smut titles
including; BARE BACK HOLE RIDERS, PISS DRINKING BEARS, PIGS AT THE TROFF,
NASTY LATINS and ♥♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥ DUMPS.

"Oh yeah? Then you have interesting tastes in modern cinema." Both men
laughed as their eyes finally caught. It was a needed relief of tension and
suspicion as they slowly gathered the rest of the spilled porn from the
hallway floor.

"I'm Mnr. Botha, by the way. I'm moving into 4b, down the hall." The man gave
his name as Marco took the time to check out his new neighbor. Mnr. Botha
stood around 5'8, 165 pounds, 30 inch waist, so not that much larger than
him but very hirsute. Even though Mnr. Botha had a military style buzz cut,
his face sported a full luscious jet black beard and moustache and his
entire body was coated in a soft down of manfur. From the looks of him,
Mnr. Botha has at least someone in his family from the middle east. Marco was
a sucker for any guy that looked like he could be a terrorist.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Marco and I live across the hall from you in
4R. You're a big change from the old cat lady that used to live there."
Marco openly rubbed his crotch and let his semi grow into a full on raging
erection as Mnr. Botha stared at his enormous package. It was obvious where
this was going. The question was, who was going to make the first
move. Marco, reeking of sweat, horny as hell but tired of being
disappointed by guys, knew he wouldn't be the first to jump.

"Well, maybe I should drop by and borrow a cup of sugar sometime." Mnr. Botha
placed the last of the spilled contents into the other box and stood up,
allowing Marco have more than a large opportunity to get a clear look and
sniff of his own sizable ♥♥♥♥. His ♥♥♥♥ outline was strong in a pair of
tight, faded, jean cut-offs. He was also in an even tighter wife beater
undershirt that had some suspicious looking crusty stains around the
stomach.

"Sure! If you want, you can stop by now...if you're not too busy, that is."
Marco tried, but failed miserably, in seeming coy, but his needy ♥♥♥♥ was
dying to get out and play with the hunky new man. Mnr. Botha looked to be in
his mid to late 30's and carried himself the way Marco always thought a man
should; strong and confident with a slight air of cockiness. But the best
thing about him was that he lacked any amount of shame about the type of
things that got his, hopefully uncut, ♥♥♥♥ hard. At first he thought the
smells rising from Mnr. Botha's armpits were from moving boxes, but now Marco
began to wonder if this concentrated pit funk was normal.