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MEAT TRUCK and Slim, the prospect they stuck on him for enforcer duty. Slim’s supposed to be shadowing him. There’s enough of MEAT TRUCK that the prospect could disappear in there and nobody’d notice.

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MEAT TRUCK dropped into the office chair like the floor had personally offended him. The vinyl groaned. The base spread. His thighs shoved the armrests out of the way and his gut settled over the waistband of those wrecked black jeans in a heavy, hairy roll.

Slim stayed standing a second too long.

“I said shadow me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Slim moved. There wasn’t room to sit beside him. There was only the space MEAT TRUCK made when he leaned back, knees wide, boots planted like he owned the building. Slim ended up half on the edge of the chair, half against that stomach, leather vest creaking as MEAT TRUCK’s arm came around and parked him there.

“Enforcer duty,” MEAT TRUCK said, voice flat behind the balaclava. “You watch. You stay close. You don’t get in the way unless I put you there.”

Slim’s face was in the shadow of that chest now. Heat, hair, the smell of sweat and cheap office and the man who’d just made the whole room smaller. MEAT TRUCK’s hand found the back of Slim’s neck and kept it there, not rough yet, just placed.

“Club sent you to learn how I handle problems.” His thumb dragged once, idle. “First lesson: when I sit, you live in what’s left. There’s a lot of me. Use it.”

Slim made a sound that wasn’t words. MEAT TRUCK shifted, and the chair complained again as that gut pressed forward and Slim’s mouth ended up against the underside of it, breath hot on skin that didn’t give.

“That’s the shadow,” MEAT TRUCK said.

Slim’s hands went to MEAT TRUCK’s thighs on their own.

“Stay in it. Don’t come up till I tell you the job’s done.”

Slim’s voice came out muffled against him. “I’m not going anywhere, sir.”

Outside the little wood-paneled office trailer, somebody laughed down the hall. In here it was just the creak of the chair, Slim’s muffled breathing, and MEAT TRUCK sitting there like a loaded truck.

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Comments

David Sanders

My type of interaction. When you have a desire and have the chance to meet your idle/ person you lose your voice. Like slim did. Your commend is my job if Meat Truck ask of me. 🔥💪🏋️🔥

Sebastian 1980

A massive power brute… so unbelievably hot🔥🥵🔥

David Sanders

His as a style like me in the winter time. I love designer jeans and boots. The ski mask give him that he's a bad boy. ( Outlaw Get It How He Lives )

Real Thick

Best part of winter. Busting out the big comfy boots and not having to tie laces!