DIESEL -- Chapter 1 - Landscaping
On that sweltering July day I pulled into the landscaping store and spotted him -- 6', blonde, beefy, loose ripped t-shirt, cut-offs that must have been from jeans that fit him last year, black leather boots, and with a sheen of sweat over all his exposed skin that made my mouth water -- had to have him.
Bought all the stuff I needed, while watching the kid parade around the place moving things around -- figured he worked there. God! I was hard and starting to leak -- had to look away when he squatted and wrapped himself around the root ball of a tree and flashed that hot ass.
"Hey kid, can you help me load this stuff?"
"Sure, mister," with a flash of perfect teeth, wavy blonde locks plastered to his sweaty head, he put on a pair of form fitting black leather gloves and began hoisting.
"Now I've got all this stuff. Funny thing is when I get home I have to figure out how to plant it."
The kid slowly rubbed each asscheek with a gloved hand, like he wanted it to look like he was rubbing off dirt, but it sure looked more to me like he was giving me a show, then he hooked them into his back pockets stretching the t-shirt across what looked like a pretty impressive chest, "I could help you with that -- it's a service we offer first time customers -- you want it?"
Boy, did I want it.
"Sure, if you don't mind."
"Not a bit, sir, let me make sure it's OK with the boss. Besides I'm really hot and could use a break."
I watched him walk toward the shed. He stopped halfway there, bent down, picked up a hose with water running out of it. Though he wasn't looking at me, he faced me, and first let the water run all over his sweat plastered hair then lapped the water as it pumped out the hose. What didn't make it into his mouth combined with the water from his hair and raced down his chin and neck sucking a bit of the t-shirt to his chest. As he threw the hose down and wiped his mouth with the back of his wet gloved hand, he caught me frozen still gaping at him. Again, that quick smile, this time accompanied with a two fingered salute.
Moments later he sauntered to my truck with his t-shirt hanging out of his back pocket. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. As I was starting to suspect, the kid had enormous pecs, huge hanging slabs of meat that actually rocked sensuously as he walked.
"You don't mind my shirt off, do you? Don't want to get your seat all sweaty but in this Texas summer heat all I seem to do is sweat," he said in an almost pleading way standing outside the truck with the door open. He was a vision, standing there with those tight cut-offs, hard muscled legs growing out below them, a six pack that looked like six perfectly formed warm dinner buns waiting to be grabbed above, and with the exception of the black gloves and boots, his evenly tanned body was covered with a sheen of sweat.
"Get in here before your girlfriend sees you and jumps your bones, kid! Names Scott, what's yours?"
"Diesel," as he hopped in and shook my hand. The wet leather combined with his body heat told my brain I was holding a huge hardening dick rather than a muscleboy's fist.
"Interesting name. Actually, a pretty cool one. It fits you."
"Thanks...how do you mean it fits me?"
"I don't know...like a truck...powerful...fueled...ready to go..." I glanced at him -- legs spread, one beefy veiny arm loose at his side, the other resting on the open window ledge, and those pecs bouncing along with the rhythm of the ride.
"Never thought of it that way...a few kids at school make fun of it." I stole another glance as Diesel ran his hands through his hair pulling some sweaty loose strands off his cheeks and forehead. His biceps moved around under his skin like lazy bowling balls.
"They should be more careful what they say about you. With a build like yours, you could deck just about anyone you wanted to I bet," as I reached over and rubbed his shoulder. The sweat seeming to automatically make me start rubbing more slowly.
"Gee, thanks, mister,... thanks a lot," again, that perfect smile.
"I mean it, Diesel. Christ! You're really built. And you must be really strong. People shouldn't fuck with you -- pardon my French."
Diesel laughed and playfully punched me on the chin with his closed fist. The leather's distinctive smell and the unexpected body contact on his part forced a small grunt out of me. Diesel let his hand fall on my thigh and started to knead the muscle there.
"I think I know what language we're talkin' here. Let's fuck around a bit, Scott. I know you want to -- saw you watching me at work -- like the show I put on for you?"
He lifted his hand to my face again, began stroking it and then put his leather covered thumb slowly in my mouth.
"Here, suck on this," as he grabbed my right hand with his and brought it to his chest.
"Go ahead, they're yours, man, go to town."
In the seconds that Diesel took control, I lost all pretence of being the one in control. He had me in a frenzy -- had to pull over. As I rubbed my hand back and forth over his mantits moving those slabs of flesh around feeling the hardened nipples scrape along my palm or forearm, he wrapped his left hand around the back of my head and pulled it toward his. His eyes and mouth were wide open, my mouth instinctively opened and locked with his. This kid sucked on my mouth like he was trying to turn my lungs inside out. He suddenly pulled my head away, both of us panting like dogs in heat, faces inches from each other.
"Here's what you really want and I what really need," as he took my head in both his hands and pulled it downward, stopping at he left pec. Seeing that heaving mass so close put my salivary glands into overdrive. I opened my mouth as wide as possible and fell on the pillow of flesh. Diesel kept talking while I slobbered and I had a line of drool running over his six pack in no time.
"Yeah...get it nice a wet...that's it, all over...yeah...suck it...harder. Now the tit...suck it...harder...suck...suck...bite it...yes, yes, yesssssss...bite harder...harder, mother fucker!...oh, yeeeaaahhhh..."
Suddenly I was there. First time in my life I came without touching myself. As the volleys shot out of my aching dick, I moaned and started slathering saliva on Diesel's chest.
Diesel grabbed the hair on the back of my head with his gloved hand and pulled my face off his pec. Though no pain was registering I realized that my head and torso were being held up by my hair. My breathing was ragged, I was barely able to focus on Diesel's face, drool dripped from my open mouth onto Diesel's thighs. His right hand cracked across my face with a hard slap.
"That wasn't very nice, fucker. I didn't tell you to go first. I built this body to be serviced and worshipped by guys like you. You job is to do what I say, know what I want and cum when I tell you."
Diesel had his legs spread wide, really wide. While sucking I had moved to where I had a hand on each of his outer thighs rubbing up high underneath the cut-offs.
"Know what I want right now, fuckface?"
The whole time he had been talking, he was lightly running his leather covered hand over my face. Somehow he knew that the leather, made even more pungent with sweat, got to me. Seeing it pass my eyes, feeling it smoothly move the sweat around my face, hearing the ever so faint squeaks as the leather creased, and the smell most of all -- I was in a trance. He knew what he was doing and I was helpless.
"This!" He shoved my face into his crotch. He pressed my head down with both his hands, grunting with each thrust of his hips combined with each jamming pull of my skull. Gradually he decreased the thrusts and the pressure and started rubbing my head with both his hands while lightly pressing it into his crotch. My eyes were even with his waist and for the first time I noticed his treasure trail, dark blonde plastered to his tanned skin with sweat, crawling into his cut-offs. My mouth had been wide open the whole time. There was a big fat prize waiting for me one layer of worn Levis away.
"Just breath, Scotty. Calm down...calm down...that's it...long deep breaths...I can feel the hot air...startin' to get hard, Scotty...can you feel me...huh...feel it, Scotty?"
All I knew that whatever came next would be his call and that I was dyin' to do it.
NOTE: I wanted to thank those of you who have given me feedback on my Diesel stories so far. I appreciate your telling me the parts of the stories that you like. Please feel free to give me suggestions for situations that Diesel could find himself in. Tell me things you'd like to see happen. Allen at tutus69@hotmail.com