Artwork (c) 2004 by Voyeur
I was walking to work that Saturday when my buddies pulled up in their car next to me! "Hey, Footlong!" called Brett in the front passenger seat. I could just hear him over the stereo which was blasting way too loud for a Saturday early morning.
"Hey, Brett." I told him.
"Where you going, man?" he asked me with a grin that told him he knew damned well.
"To work." I told him. "Want to come with me?"
Brett Waller and his buddies in the car all worked with me at the auto shop, but with one big difference. They had the next week off, I didn't!
"No, thanks, dude! We're off to party!" Only he said it more like "par-tay!" The other guys joined in with yelps of "All right!" "Yeah!" and "Woo-hoo!" I think that's what they all yelled, it was kind of a single loud noise of happy guys off for a week of fun that would include drinking, dancing, and plenty of casual sex. Me, I was looking forward to a week filled with oil-covered car motors, rusty undercarriages and balky steering mechanisms.
Had I made the right choice? You're only young once, and spring break's weeklong parties are a big part of being young. And I had turned eighteen back in February, so this would be my first journey as an adult. No parents, no chaperones, no worries and no problems. Just nine days of wild, happy good times.
On the other hand, college was coming next fall, and while I had a scholarship and some money in the bank to pay for it, I didn't have nearly as much as I'd like. I'd been working at the auto shop only a few hours a week to save for college, and three days ago, I'd been offered the chance to work full-time the week of spring break. The boss had offered the same thing to Brett and the others, too (his regular workers, young men all under the age of twenty-seven, had all taken off for spring break and the party scene themselves), but they'd all quickly turned him down. So I'd also get their normal hours on top of mine, that is, I could work this next week as long as I could hold up, twelve or fourteen hours a day. Overtime! So I was working, even though I was eating out my heart to go with them on their trip!
"You're missing out on the best time of your life, Footlong!" Brett chided me. "And those girls are going to miss out on a ride on your footlong!" Brett looked over at his buddies. "Guess we'll have to take up the slack, eh?" More laughs and catcalls. My nickname comes of course from the tool between my legs. Long and fat, you'd think I'd be set for life, sexwise. Actually, most girls backed out of having sex with me when they got a look at it. You have that happen to you a half dozen times in your senior year, and see how proud you are of your long dong!
"Have a good time, guys." I said resignedly. "You can tell me all about it when you get back. And maybe I can go with you next year."
"See you next week, Footlong!" And the car sped off, they had a long drive to make it to Florida and they planned to drive hard and fast to get there. I just stood there and stared after them until they turned the corner and were gone. Then I kept walking to get to my job. It sucks coming from a poor family when you hang out with guys from wealthier families like I did! This wasn't the first time I'd had to miss out on a good time for the sake of money!
Work that Saturday felt weird. My usual work days were filled with my co-workers and friends, us sharing the jobs and laughing and talking and getting things done. The space which had rebounded with our noises while we worked on the cars had a hollow echo to it today, with just me and the owner there to make noise. And while working on cars is fun, doing it for eight straight hours is mind-numbing! Not to mention the freak hot spell we had going right now, the temperature had climbed into the mid-eighties and this garage wasn't air-conditioned!
I raised myself back and pressed my hands to my back and pushed against them, and gave a groan that frightened me. This was my grandfather's groan! I was getting old ahead of time! I should have gone on the spring break, goddamn it!
A cold can nudged my shoulder and I was startled, not a jump and yell startle, but I did flinch and turn my head to look. A cold beer. An honest to God cold beer! Being offered to me by Mr. Waller! Hell, yeah! No reason for a guy working in a hot garage on a car to not drink a cold beer, is there? I wasn't that used to alcohol, but it was cold and it was wet, that was all I was asking for!
"Thanks, Mr. Waller!" I said. Oh, did I mention my boss was Brett's dad? He was, it was how I'd gotten the job to begin with.
"Don't mention it, Steven." Mr. Waller told me. For a guy more than twice my age, he was in good shape, I hoped I looked as good as he did when I was his age. Well-muscled, strong-jawed, dark-haired, with eyes that made you trust him as soon as they were turned on you. He was smiling as he watched me drink my beer, and he was drinking one, too. We talked a bit, and five minutes later, I was feeling refreshed, a bit energized from the beer and ready to plug on for another few hours.
At five o'clock, the garage was officially closed for business. We pulled down the bays doors and locked them shut, which made it even hotter in the place, but the sun would be down in another hour or so and we could relax a bit. To celebrate, Mr. Waller pulled out another beer and we paused and drank it, and talked some more. I was really feeling like an adult in that moment.
"Time to get back to it." he said after a while.
"Yeah." I agreed and shifted and realized my bladder had other plans. "Soon as I drain my hose, I'll be ready."
He stood up himself. "Great minds think alike. Mind sharing the bowl?"
I got a bit of an odd vibe from him at that, but didn't think overmuch on it. I'd had plenty of guys at school make an effort to check me out in the shower or the bathroom. You let them look and they smile, maybe make a comment or two, usually admiring or envious, and that's the end of it. So my boss wanted a look. I was just surprised it had taken him this long! "Sure, I don't mind." I responded.
We went back to the small bathroom which boasted an old toilet in an obsolete design and a rust-bordered sink. Inside it, the two of us made a crowd, but we were just there to take a leak and there was room enough for that. I got my fly down and my cock out and let it fly at about the same time he did. "Ahhhh!" I said, closing my eyes and lifting my head. God, I hadn't noticed how much I'd been holding it in, but the release was a tremendous relief!
"Wow!" came the soft sound from beside me and I opened my eyes and looked over at Mr. Waller. He was...enraptured...by my cock! Not the ordinary check-it-out, it was like he was hypnotized from looking at it.
I wanted to yank my cock out of his sight and stuff it away...but hell! I was still pissing! Had to brazen it out, though that gaze of his was like a hand pawing at my cock! I could feel his eyes looking at it, honest, I could actually, really feel it!
"That's a huge one you got there, Steven." he told me unoriginally.
"Yeah, I know." I said. "It started growing on me when I was ten and I'm not sure it's finished yet."
"How long is it?"
I wish suddenly I didn't know the answer, but I guess everyone's used a tape measure that way at one time or other in their life. "Eleven and a half inches when it's full erect. About nine like it is now."
"Shit! And I thought I had a nice one!"
I looked at Mr. Waller's cock for the first time. "It's a nice size."
"Nine and a half hard." He said. Done with his urination, he gave his rod a few jerks and got it hard. "See?"
"Yeah." I admitted. Hard, his cock was about the same size as mine.
"Let me see yours, too."
"Let me see yours hard." He went on. "Come on. It's just the two of us here. I just want to see it. Come on." His voice wasn't like it normally was, sort of soft and...intimate.
I was done peeing. I could just stuff it in my pants, say no way and walk off. But it was my boss! "Well, okay. But that's all of it, okay?"
"Sure, I understand." he licked his lips. Licked them again.
I pumped my dong and got it up and showed it to him. "There you go." I said.
"Wow!" he said all softly again. Looked up at me. "Can I...can I touch it?"
"I...I don't know." I said.
"Come on, just a touch. I want to feel it."
"This is getting weird."
"Can I suck on it?"
"Can I suck you off? Just once?"
"No, no!" I jerked my cock around so my back was to Mr. Waller and I put the monster away.
"I'm sorry, kid. I didn't mean to push you." He said.
"Forget I even mentioned it. I thought maybe.... Well, anyway, forget it."
"Forget what?" I ventured a smile.
He looked at me, then laughed. "Right. I wouldn't want to lose you as a worker. Even if I can't get anything else out of you." We both laughed then.
And that was how we got out of the bathroom with our boss-employee relationship still intact. And it would have been the end of it if it hadn't been for Brett. He called me about nine-thirty, when the day had me totally worn out and feeling frustrated. Oh, I'd made some money today...but it had drained me dry.
And him on the phone, crowing, "I bagged me two honies!" He was pretty damned drunk, of course. "One blonde, one red-headed, both of them with a huge rack and fucking gorgeous!" I heard girls giggling in the background.
"I'm happy for you." I said to him, hollowly.
"I'm taking them both back to the room with me. Going to fuck them both. One for me, and one for you. Thinking of you, Footlong! Wish you were here!"
"I wish I was there, too!" I agreed. Numb inside and out. "I got to go. I'm still at work. Bye!"
Stood up. I was done for the day. Done and done! I got up and walked over to Mr. Waller to tell him so. He was sitting on a mat on the floor while he plied a wrench inside a wheelwell, working on some brakes. He looked over at me and didn't say anything. Looked at my basket and looked up at me, back again, licked his lips. Nothing else.
I told you all this so you can understand where my head was. Working all day in a hot body shop while my friends were all at spring break, having a blast. It was going to go on like this all week. I'd get calls from Brett and maybe the others telling me the fun I was missing. And here I was, with a boss who wanted to suck my cock. He'd backed off, hadn't pushed me any, accepted that I'd turned him down. But still...it was spring break. I was supposed to be out having fun.
With his eyes on my crotch again, I reached up, unzipped myself and reached in, fished out my cock and let it flop out at him. I was semi-hard, but no more.
Mr. Waller looked up at me. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure." I told him. "Go ahead. Suck it."
He scooted over and got his legs around my feet, him in that seated position, me standing, and his mouth worked like a fish as he lifted up my dong and got the head of it in his mouth.
Now, I'd been sucked on before, a girl who turns you down for sex can be talked into giving you head. But they'd all been timid, working the head and nothing else, afraid of my monster cock.
Not Mr. Waller. He swallowed that thick shaft and took more than half of my length before he stopped, balked by the lack of saliva. Backed away but not off, worked up some spit and then went back down again. Made it three-fourths of the way down this time, and when he backed off again, I was hard so he had two to three more inches to let go of when he did. Shoved back down and made it as far as he had before. Again, and got further down, now my cock was being stuffed down his throat. He flexed his muscles on the next down, and this time he sank all the way to the base and got it inside, all the fucking length of it, and there he stopped, holding it, all of me, inside him.
I shuddered, it felt so fucking good! Nobody had ever taken all of me before! They either never tried, or they stopped at the halfway mark, choking, gagging, coughing, ruining any momentum they had.
When Mr. Waller lifted off, he was holding onto my shaft with his lips, milking my prick as he went back, and then he slid back down, and I shuddered again. "Ohhhhh, yeahhhhhh!"
But Mr. Waller was just getting started. I mean, I knew the guy was a dick-sucker from earlier in the bathroom, but I never knew he'd be such a cocksucking professional! He'd not only sucked cocks before, he was a longtime lover of dicks! In no time, I had gone from being the guy in charge of this to the guy who was captivated by the mouth loving my pud! I caught hold of his head and began to fuck at his face and he let me, and even worked more magic by the way his mouth and tongue moved to keep me constantly stimulated in new and unusual ways.
I was deep in my lust when he wormed free of my hands and pulled off my cock.
"Why'd you stop?" I panted.
"Would you like to fuck me?"
"Fuck you?" I gasped.
"Can you take it?"
"I think so. You're bigger than anyone I've had before, but that's why I want you to do it."
"Okay." I gulped hard. "Where?"
"Right here." He told me.
Breaking the tempo of my passion was the hardest thing I've ever done, but I did it, I waited while he got out of his boots and pants and shorts. I compromised by lowering my own trousers to my ankles but nothing else. Then he laid on his back and lifted up his legs and said, "All right. Come and get me."
His legs were hairy as hell. So was his ass. The crevasse between the cheeks was a tangle of thick black hair, and I had to guess where his asshole was. I stabbed at it with my spit-slimed cock, and he gasped when I rammed his flesh, then his hand came around and guided me to the tender entrance. I felt his hairs like spiders crawling on my cockflesh, but then I got to the warmer inside and the hairs stayed back at the top, forming a ring around my shaft as I drove it in deeper and deeper. Warm, warm...and nice.
Mr. Waller was moaning as I squirmed my thick love-worm into him. His arms were around me, his hands on my back and he would have dug his fingernails into my flesh if my shirt and t-shirt hadn't dulled them into innocence. I gave an extra shove and he cried out, not in pain but in passion. "Oh, ohhh!"
"Oh, God, Mr. Waller!" I moaned. "You feel so fucking good!"
"You do, too, Steve." Mr. Waller said. "Come on, fuck me faster, I can take it. I can take all of it, give it to me good!"
I took him at his word, and he was right, he just moaned as my huge pud dove into him and pulled out again. Faster, I could go faster, faster! And all he did was moan faster, faster! Oh, God!
"Oh, oh, Mr. Waller!" I groaned. "I'm about to come! I'm gonna come!"
"Yeah, Steve, come on, shoot all that hot teenaged jizz up in me! Oh, shit, teenaged cock, I can't get enough of it! Come on, ram me harder, kid, harder, harder!"
"Oh, oh, Mr. Waller!" I moaned, then, "I'm coming, Mr. Waller, I'm co-o-o-oming! OH, OH, AH, AH, HAH, AH-HAHHHHH, GUHHHHHH!"
My jizz squirted into Mr. Waller's ass and some squirted out around my cock as I pumped back and forth.
"Oh, God, teenaged come is so hot, oh, AH-GAH-HAH-HUHHHHHHH!" Mr. Waller's cock sprayed my chest with his spunk, hot squibs struck my shirt and soaked me, and more landed underneath the material on my lower stomach and pubic patch. I was watching this man come as he wormed about underneath me, my own vision glazed by my lust.
"Oh, oh, shit!" I groaned as I finished up. "Mr. Waller, that was so hot!"
"You're so hot!" He breathed underneath me. "God, kid, I don't want you to ever pull out! Can you come home with me this week? My kid's in Florida and my wife's off visiting her family, we can work all day and fuck all night!"
I was eighteen and my own man. Proud of that, I said, "Sure, Mr. Waller, I can come stay with you."
We stopped off at my house to pick up some clothes for me and then I moved in with Mr. Waller the rest of that week. He made me fuck him every night before we got to sleep and again when we woke up. Work was still those long, long hours, but he punctuated it by locking the doors now and then with a "back in a half hour" sign on the door, and would give me a blowjob there, on the concrete floor between the cars.
I got the calls from Brett, but they didn't goad me the way that call did that first day. I'd made my choice and it hadn't turned out so damned bad.
But Brett thought he had me by the short-and-curlies, because he came by the next Saturday about five o'clock. We were closing at that time, the spring break was now over. Monday I'd be back in school. I'd rest up tomorrow much as I could, and graduation was only a few short weeks away now.
So Brett came strutting in at five o'clock like I said, while I was washing arms free of the oil and grime from a particularly messy engine job I'd just finished. "Hey, Footlong, how you doing?"
"I'm fine." I told him.
"You get a lot done this week?"
"Yep." I settled for saying.
"I got a lot, too!" He smirked. "Every night, a different woman, man. The girls on spring break will fuck anybody who asks them. All you have to do is ask! So I did. That's what I did on my spring break." Brett grinned, nastily, he figured he had me but good. "What did you do this week that can match up to that?" he added just to piss me off.
So I just looked him right in the eye and I said, "I fucked your dad."
Comments, Complaints or Suggestions?
Send E-mail to Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM.
NOW ON SALE!
USE THE "CLICK TO LOOK INSIDE"
FOR MORE FREE STUFF!
THE STORY YOU JUST READ IS AVAILABLE IN THE "HIGH SCHOOL AND COLLEGE" BOOK
IF YOU LIKED THIS STORY, CHECK OUT THESE KINDLE BOOKS ON AMAZON.COM!
OR CHECK OUT THESE NOOK BOOKS AT BARNES & NOBLE
THE STORY YOU JUST READ IS AVAILABLE IN THE "LAST YEAR OF HIGH SCHOOL" BOOK