Your job anything like mine? Boring? Mindless? Poorly paid? I bet your job is fucking ten times better'n mine. How'd you like turning out in this freezing, ball breaking weather in the middle of January to work for twelve hours a day in an unheated Call Centre (THEY claim it is heated) for a pittance THEY claim is above the minimum wage. Like fuck it is!
I swear ninety-nine percent of callers only ring up 'cos they're lonely or feeling their oats or sump'n and just want to hear the sound of another human voice, no matter who's. I suspect I've more than once been talking to some guy while he's been tossing himself off listening to my voice - it's the heavy breathing wot gives 'em away, Guv. I'm often tempted to give some of them the Samaritans number - or possibly my own mobile number if they sound promising! However, there is one faint beam of light in my life. I work on the eleven a.m. shift, which means I can at least get to work in daylight most days (unless it is pissing down.)
The day I'm going to tell you about was one of those all too rare bright and bracing winter days. You know the sort of morning I mean: your balls are still in danger of being frost bitten but the sun is shining and even the few brave birds (feathered variety) still hanging around are feeling chirpier.
When I awoke that morning, my joy was unconfined! The 'crisp and even' made even me feel good about myself. Over my bowl of "Krunchy Krisp, the cereal to make your day" I made what turned out to be a life-changing decision. I DECIDED TO WALK TO WORK! Back along I'd made a New Year's resolution to walk to work as much as I could. That had been almost three and a half weeks ago and you must know what usually happens to those resolutions - they disappear down the crud pan never to be seen again. The sun shining into my somewhat dingy drab little bedsit, however, revived my good intentions and voila!... I found myself swinging along, whistling a jaunty air - and on the receiving end of some rather peculiar looks from passers by for my pains. However, I felt on top of the world and full of fucking virtue for carrying out my resolve, so FUCK THEM!
I was only a few hundred yards from the office when my eardrums were assailed by a blaring blast from a klaxon as a blue van cruised slowly past. From somewhere came a loud wolf-whistle. I stopped in my tracks. I would like to say that I get wolf-whistled at in the street all the time but I suppose I had better tell the truth. I don't. To say I was surprised is rather understating things, but it happened a second time. The van had done a sharp, illegal U-turn and stopped on the opposite side of the road. A horny looking guy sat at the wheel, looking directly at me through his wound down window. He grinned lewdly as I looked back at him, stupidly wondering if he felt cold with that window open!
"Hey, matey, you need a lift to wherever?"
I hardly needed a lift any place being so close to the office. My heart, though, suddenly upped its beat rate and I could feel that old, familiar sensation in my loins, alerting me to the possibility of a fuck. The driver looked fucking hot. I mean, fucking drop-dead H-O-T. His cropped head was being kept warm, tea-cosy style, by one of them woolly hats from Next or Primark or somewhere. He sported a piratical gold earring, a trim goatee, a sexy grin, and a pair of eyes full of 'wanna fuck, babe?' lust. He looked like the sort of raucously crude young workman who figured in almost all my most sordid and obscene wanking moments. Yep, this guy could give me a 'lift' any day - but not to work!
"If you're going my way..." I called back.
Fucking work could wait. I'd phone in a sicky or something and hope that none of the nosey parkers in the office block had seen me walking in. By eleven o'clock, most of the traffic through that part of town had thinned out a lot from the rush hour so it was comparatively safe for me to dash across the road and approach the van.
He opened the passenger door and I vaulted into the seat, slamming the door closed behind me. We looked at each other and smirked impishly, reverting to type as two mischievous schoolboys playing hooky. He was wearing dirty, frayed jeans, torn at the knees, and a dirty black T-shirt. Muscles and crotch bulged under the well worn fabric and his cock, balls and nipples were all trying to make a breakthrough. A pair of heavy boots thickly encrusted with dried mud completed the building site worker image, a look that has always turned me on since way before puberty. The prospects of an interesting day were swiftly improving, whilst the likelihood of me spending that day in an over-heated, stuffy office was fading fast.
"That's a great fuckable arse you got there," he chuckled evilly, "I woz watchin' it stretchin' them tight jeans you're wearin'. Nice, the best arse I've seen this year." Never mind that the year was only twenty-three days old! He looked me up and down once more. "Yer not 'alf bad lookin', neiver." His hand found my thigh and squeezed. My cock woke up and prepared to perform its familiar fertility dance.
"You're as horny as fuck yerself," I said, "where we off to?"
"I'm a builder an' decorator an' I'm workin' on a nempty 'ouse at the moment, on the uvver side of tahn." The way he said the word 'house' sounded more like 'arse' to me! "Wanna tag along wiv me an' see me 'andiwork?" Did I ever! My cock was snaking its way down my leg, stiffening and broadening in the confident expectation of some great rumpy-pumpy. He noticed, and grinned.
"I can't wait to see the rest of you, eiver." He squeezed my thigh again and began stroking the tight denim, turning up the heating in my scrotum, making my balls work overtime! He turned the van round again and I glanced at my office block as we drove past. "Fuck you lot," I thought.
It took us some twenty minutes to reach our objective, a large, detached house shrouded in scaffolding and plastic protective sheeting. During the drive he fondled and squeezed my thigh whenever the road conditions permitted, "...jus' keepin' you on the simmer like," he explained, grinning like the proverbial Cheshire cat. He parked the van under some overgrown shrubs, well out of sight of the road and led the way inside the building, throwing me a hard hat he had picked up on the way. "Put that on 'cos I don't fancy explainin' to the boss or the owner what a body wiv a crushed 'ead is doin' in 'is master bedroom."
With one hand firmly clamped on my right buttock, his thumb judiciously pressing the back seam of my jeans into my arse crack, perilously close to my button, he guided me upstairs to a large room. This had already been carpeted and the new flooring was protected from shitty workmen's boots by paint-streaked dust sheets in readiness for decorating. He explained this room was going to be the master bedroom with an en-suite, but that had not been plumbed in yet. "If yer need to take a piss, there's a bucket in there that I use. Anyfink else, you'll 'ave to go ahtside and manure the nettles." He dissolved into a cackle of coarse, filthy laughter. There was also a stained and battered old divan style sofa in one corner, on which he sat down to remove his cruddy boots. This was where he obviously took his breaks. Apart from that, the room was empty of furniture.
By now, we were both so horny we brushed aside any further formalities. I'd scarcely got my fleece unzipped before it was off and lying in a crumpled heap on the sofa. He wasted no time in ripping my T-shirt off my back and yanking my jeans down around my ankles in one rough expert move. My hard fiercely jigging cock was causing some stress to the well-worn cotton of my ripest week old unwashed briefs. He dropped to his knees and began sucking me through the threadbare piss stained material. I know, but I had not bargained on being picked up in broad daylight, had I?
His tongue slobbered over the mound of my balls, which he promptly sucked into his mouth and swirled around a bit, before travelling up my uncovered shaft to its throbbing head, where the piss slit was already beginning to ooze. His fingers dragged the damp fabric away to reveal my entire shaft. He pulled back my foreskin, regarded his plunder for a moment as he inhaled my unwashed cock scent (I'd not had time for a shower that morning) then parted his lips and took the full length of my rigid member down his throat in one swift, practiced movement. I hadn't had a good sex session for some days and my balls were churning like crazy. If I did not get some restraint going soon, I was in serious danger of blasting a heavy load of spunk into his stomach there and then! I heaved him off me and hoisted him up, raising his straining T-shirt to reveal a tight washboard belly and a line of dark hair approaching his navel. He was built just as I had dreamt builders should be built, firm and lean, without the body-builder's over-developed pecs, abs and biceps. His waist was narrow, his thighs thick and solid. His pecs were crowned with succulent, dark, fleshy nipples surrounded by a corolla of the same fine dark hair.
I bent forward and took one of them between my teeth. I nibbled gently on the sensitive nub, detecting a slight remnant of some deodorant - Lynx or maybe Adidas - and heard him softly whimpering as my teeth got to work. Glancing down between our bodies, I could make out his hard-on snaking down inside the leg of his taut, distressed jeans. While his nipple was still anchored between my teeth I slowly unzipped his fly. I reached inside and wrapped my fist around the large boner tenting his briefs. It felt as if it could be one of the fattest and heaviest shafts I had ever groped. Fucking hell, I thought, I've just got to have a gander at this! Sliding down until my face was level with his wide open fly, I saw the huge bulge in his dirty, smelly briefs. The cotton was stained and warm, the odour of dried piss and stale spunk strong and masculine. I thought feverishly, two fucking filthy minded buggers together! His package was big and heavy with two hairy globes pressing against the support pouch of his briefs with a cock at least three inches thick and a good seven, maybe eight, inches long visibly pulsating against the fabric. That piece of cock was going to give some lucky bastard a fantastic fuck. Oh, please let it be me!
I mashed my nose into that pungent pouch, rummaging and snuffling around like a greedy pig hunting for truffles. I yanked his tight jeans and odoriferous briefs down, revealing the full magnificence of his cock, arcing from his balls towards his hip. Seen unencumbered by clothing, there was no doubt about it - it was fully eight inches, not a mere seven as I had erroneously surmised. Almost before I was aware of it myself, my tongue was curling round it like some tropical snake and licking the length of it from his succulent balls to his uncut shrouded cock head, tasting the stained and rancid cotton, feeling the heat of that big cock burning against my lips. As Mr Fred Astaire once warbled, "Heaven, I'm in Heaven!" The only difference was that my Ginger Rogers was definitely ALL MAN! I sucked on his spicy briefs for a few minutes, then swallowed him eagerly and ravenously. I could feel my lips dilating to adjust to his big man-piece and wondered whether I would be able to take it all up my arse. With any luck, I shouldn't have to wait too long to find out!
"Gob on it," he snarled, "make me real wet and slimy 'cos I'm gonna fuck you silly, just the way blokes like you always want it." I love it when rough guys talk dirty to me, giving me orders, forcing me to obey their every command and give them what they want. I sucked on him some more, drooling saliva all over the head and upper part of his shaft. I backed away a little to gaze at the dripping shaft twitching before me. I was nervous about taking such a large cock but my arsehole was pulsing, shouting at me it was only too willing to try!
I lay on my back as he tugged my jeans and briefs down around my ankles, revealing my rigid man-piece banging against my belly, drenching my cock hair with sticky pre-seminal fluid. He lifted my legs and threw them over his shoulder with the practised ease of a brickie raising a hodful of bricks. His dark red, burnished crown rapped impatiently against my back door, prodding at my arsehole with frenzied urgency. I felt the pressure as he pushed none too gently and I pushed back to force his entry as easily as possible for him as well as for me. My sphincter widened - so did my eyes - as he unceremoniously drove his fuck pole into my anus. The initial shock and a slight twinge of pain passed quickly as he forced his way up my passage with great strength, not stopping until he was buried to the hilt, spearing me on his impressive weapon with his wiry pubes scratching across the ultra sensitive skin at the exterior of my open hole and then plunging in again in one swift thrust. The breath left my body in a deep-throated gasp; his hips started to swing as he hammered his fat knob in and out of me with deep strokes. I felt him pummelling away at my G-spot and the shock waves that eddied through my body were the horniest thing I had ever experienced. At that moment I became aware of my body screaming at me that I hadn't taken a piss all that morning. His cock was pounding away at my full bladder and as he plunged into me I was uncertain if I was going to piss or shoot my load. Four cups of strong tea at breakfast now wanted out and the feeling of needing to piss combined with his cock ramming into me made my solid dick bounce about and the first few drops of steaming liquid spray on to my belly.
"Shit! That's fuckin' great," he yelled, grabbing hold of my leaking shaft, "let it all out, you filthy bastard!" He crushed my piss spout against his stomach, thrusting harder and deeper, coming very close to pushing me across the dust sheet covered floor with the strength of his pounding. I let go and my stream jetted and splashed against his belly, spattering his chest and chin. He held me there for a brief moment and then released me, my cock threshing riotously, piss jetting in all directions soaking the dust sheet, him and me.
I thought I was never going to stop and then I realised I was shooting spunk as well! Alternating spurts from my piss slit pumped thick creamy jism between blasts of piss and sent them raining down on my torso. The intensity of the sensation relaxed me to such an extent I was firing bodily juices out of my cock by the bucketful in time with his plunging, rapacious cock. I had never realised before that the human body could produce so much fluid, which seemed to go on endlessly until at last it began to subside to a mere trickle, pooling in my navel and running down the sides of my body to collect in a wet patch on the dust sheet I was lying on. I began to recover my senses and thought things were calming down but I was surprised to find him augmenting his rhythm, ramming into me so hard I could feel the start of the carpet burns I was to discover later all down my back.
Suddenly his cock turned to steel inside me. I recognised the tell-tale signs alerting me that he was about to unload his balls. He pulled out of me so fast I heard a sucking sound as he withdrew, leaving me feeling that a vacuum pump had degutted me as if I was a Christmas turkey! His fist gripped his thick shaft, flying up and down the length of it, oozy fluid dripping from the slit and coating his bulbous glans. His head snapped back and a cry strangely reminiscent of an angry seagull left his throat, the veins of his neck standing out. His face contorted and turned a violent turkey cock red as a thick drop of sperm seeped from the wide open slit, sliding slowly and heavily down the underside of his massive shaft. It was followed by a heavy wodge that jetted over my head and splattered on the dust sheet somewhere behind me. It was rapidly succeeded by a second and then a third that splashed on to my face and neck. Copious serpentine streams of spunk shot through the air and covered my body with his semen. He groaned and roared loudly, his body convulsing and twisting, his flying hand never ceasing its pumping of his cock, spurting thick creamy sperm as he continued to jerk off. As the last of his flow dripped on to me, he leant forward and rubbed the end of his scummy cock in the pools of liquid already beginning to congeal on my belly.
"You're in a bit of a mess, me ol' matey. I reckon you need hosin' dahn, don't you?"
He pointed his hard, red cock at me and I watched his face straining once more. His piss began to flow, slowly at first as it battled its way through his sperm congested shaft, then the stream quickly built up, pouring wet warm fluid out of him, soaking my chest and stomach. The warmth flooded over me, all the way to my face. I opened my mouth, letting the salty fluid fill it to overflowing, streams running out over my cheeks and dousing my hair. He pissed with such force that my skin dimpled beneath the streaming liquid. I watched, mesmerised, as he hosed the remains of his spunk from my body, bathing me in the warmth of the contents of his bladder. I was so strongly aroused by this shower I fired another load from my half-hard cock all over my stomach and pubic region.
"You filthy little sod, you've made yerself all cruddy again," he growled, "nah I've gotta hose you dahn again." I thought, "Oh, yes please," but actually said, "Fuck! That was so fucking hot you can wash me down with that hose of yours any time." I grinned at him with my very best cheeky, naughty boy look. I had the gratification of seeing his dick stiffening again.
I didn't make it to work that day, or the next, or the one after that, with the inevitable result. Not that I worried too much about that, 'cos I had a feeling this was going to be a good year. He and I spent many mornings and nights exploring each other's horny bodies and learning more about dirty man-to-man sex amongst working class guys. Now that will be top of the list of my New Year's resolutions for next year!
Laurie, 10/12/16