Many `Amber Fountaine' stories are based on real adventures of others that have either written me or have sent me a tape, telling me all about the events, or of people that I've met in person that have related their escapades. In each case, the person has asked that I change the name and/or location and tell their story. This one I heard in person during a recent vacation trip. Enjoy!
Old Fruit Jar as told to Amber Fountaine
I grew up in the Phoenix area during the beginning of the boom years. I was what some call a `late bloomer' in that I was almost out of high school before I began to fill out, making me the subject of a lot of teasing and ridicule that had begun in elementary school. I was skinny, awkward, and admittedly shy, especially around girls. So it was only natural I suppose for me to be envious of my neighbor and his construction crew.
Jim Roland had an uncle in the construction business and that's a damn good way to move up in a company real quick. Jim had graduated from high school, a couple of years back, about the time my dad bought our house next door to the Roland's, and with no plans for college, Jim had gone to work for his uncle. In high school, Jim had worked for his uncle during the summers so he had some experience. He also had a pretty good brain, could read blueprints with the best of them and since he had a mind for math (and his uncle owned the company), Jim became the foreman of a framing crew.
Once Jim made foreman, it became a habit for at least a couple of the guys on his crew to meet at Jim's house in the morning and ride with him to whatever location they were working, since we were on the West side of Phoenix at the time and most of the work was in the East Valley area. Most of the guys were just like Jim, in their late teens or early twenties and were gorgeous men. They didn't have male calendars back then, but if they had, I'm sure Jim and his crew could have qualified as models. Watching Jim and his crew from my bedroom window, especially in the late afternoon when they'd come in covered with sweat and sawdust, was when I felt the first inkling of sexual desire for another male.
Up to that point, I was sure – in spite of all the teasing to the contrary – that I was 100% straight. By then I'd been showering with guys in gym for a few years and being around all those naked boys didn't do a thing for me. All of my hormonal hunger was directed toward my female classmates, not that it did me any good. The girls laughed at me almost as much as the boys did when one of the guys would pull a prank.
It wasn't unusual for me to walk in a classroom and find that someone had written something on the chalk board. Once it was, "Clark Kent = Superman, Sammy Kent = Supersissy." Another favorite of my antagonists was, "Sammy Sux the Big Ones" or some similar cute remark. When I'd try to ignore the message, one of the guys would ask if I was advertising, getting a laugh from the girls as well as the guys. Then someone else would suggest that it didn't have to be a big one, that I enjoyed all sizes. That banter, with me as the target, would last until the teacher walked in the room. Even when I showed up at the Jr.-Sr. Prom with a date, there were a few of the guys teasing me about finally asking a girl out so nobody would suspect I was really queer.
That wasn't true at all. I had a huge crush on Betty, my date, and the proudest moment of my life to then had been when she accepted my offer to go as my date. However, it wasn't long after that when I vividly remember having my first sexual thoughts of another man. They weren't thoughts of sex with a man, but they were sexual none-the-less.
I was in my bedroom, doing homework, when Jim and his crew pulled in. As they often did, they'd stopped for a six-pack of beer and when they got to Jim's house, they'd hose off in the front yard and split the six-pack before going their separate ways. This one afternoon seemed to be a party of some sort that I later learned was to celebrate their finishing a big job and getting a bonus check. Jim's parents were gone for a couple of weeks and a couple of other crews joined with Jim's to celebrate at the Roland's house. It wasn't much of a party, by my later party standards, but it was bigger and louder and a little more rambunctious than the usual after-work get-togethers – enough to get my attention anyway.
The uniform for these young guys was work boots and cutoff jeans. They might have on t-shirts when they showed up in the morning but they were gone by the time they got off work. I remember standing in my window, watching the guys cavort in Jim's yard as they drank their beer and squirted each other with the hose. It was still fairly early in the spring and cool at night, but these guys already had dark tans from working in the sun every day. I'd stare at one with envy, wishing I had his build and good looks and then another would get my attention and I'd wish I looked like him instead. By the time their little party broke up, I had taken off all my clothes and was standing in front of the mirror on my closet door, flexing what little muscle I had, pretending my pale white skin was as dark as theirs, and I got harder than I'd ever gotten that I could recall.
Now I realize a hard cock on a teenage boy is about as rare as the sun rising in the East. In fact the sun rises once a day and my cock came up a lot more often than that. But that day, that afternoon, was the first time it had ever gotten stiff from looking at other men. And when I pumped out a load of cream that splattered everywhere from the base of the mirror to the tips of my toes, while I wasn't thinking about sex with those guys, I was wondering what their cocks might look like if they were completely naked. So as far as I'm concerned, that was the moment when that `100% straight' orientation that I'd have sworn to began to slip.
By the end of school that spring, I'd begun to pay a lot more attention to those after-work hosing offs that went on in Jim's yard and had begun to buddy up to Jim on weekends. I tried not to think that any of it might be sexual, but every time Jim called me `squirt' I'd have an instant image in my mind of Jim naked with a hard cock squirting cum.
If you want an idea of how long ago this was, the previous summer I'd worked in a gas station pumping gas. Some younger readers might not remember when people sat in their cars and had their gas pumped for them while others on the gas station crew would clean their windshield, check water and oil levels and even test the air pressure in the tires. Well that's what I'd done, and being the new guy and the youngest, I'd caught some teasing from those guys too. But it wasn't like the teasing in school. The guys at school seemed to enjoy teasing me in front of the girls, as if putting me down made them look better. The guys at the gas station teased each other, as well as me. I just caught more of it because I was new and still a kid.
So I knew if I worked with Jim, I'd get a lot of teasing and pranks pulled on me, but that was okay. As I began to know Jim better, I began hinting that I'd like to work for him that summer. One day, when I happened to be working in the front yard when Jim and his crew pulled in, he called me over. I'd met them before so that was no big thing, but this time Jim told them he was thinking about putting me on as a helper that summer. It was the first indication I'd had that Jim had taken my hints seriously and I glowed with pride when the guys started saying it was a good idea. Then, as they drank their beer, the teasing began.
One of the guys said his wife was pregnant and he had something I could help him with. That got a laugh and I laughed too. I'd heard similar remarks among the men I'd worked with at the gas station and knew the best thing to do was laugh with them and not get offended. One of the guys, Dave, suggested I'd make a good `jar boy' and that went over my head. I knew there were a lot of construction terms I'd have to learn and thought that was probably one of them. Then Carl told Dave he was sure Dave would rather piss his pants anyway and instead of coming back at Carl with some sort of remark, Dave peed his pants right there in Jim's front yard.
I was stunned, but none of the other guys seemed to think it at all unusual. For the next week, I made sure I was in a position to watch the guys when they got to Jim's after work. Almost always, I was sure I saw at least one of them piss in his shorts while they drank their beer and then they'd hose each other off. So that weekend, when I had a chance to talk to Jim alone, I managed to steer the conversation in that direction and asked Jim why they did that.
He told me it was a trick he'd learned from his uncle who'd gotten the idea from some safety class or something. He said that it was important to drink a lot of water while working in the sun and that if a guy didn't need to pee, it was because he hadn't had enough water. He said that over the last few years, going back to when he'd worked part-time, they'd sort of made a game of it. Since the places where they worked usually didn't have any nearby toilets, and the only people around a framing crew, if there were any at all, were other construction workers, the guys had developed the habit of pissing in their pants, which would dry within minutes, or using a jar if they had a jar boy' to take care of it. He told me that if I was serious about working for him when school was out, one of my jobs would be jar boy' until the guys got tired of it or if we happened to be working someplace where the guys couldn't piss their pants. He told me he kept an old fruit jar – what my mom called a `Mason' jar – behind the seat of his truck and what I had to do when a guy on the crew asked, was to bring him the jar to pee in and then go empty it. "No big deal," he concluded. "I did it the first summer I worked for my uncle. Not much different than a nurse emptying a bed pan."
Well if it was good enough for Jim, I concluded, it was good enough for me. I told him about the ragging I's gotten at the gas station and how I was sure I could expect the same or worse from his crew and that `jar boy' or not, I really wanted to work for him that summer.
"Good," he told me. "In that case, get the jar out of my truck and you can practice right now."
The whole time we'd been talking, Jim had been working under the hood of his truck. Again this was back before computerized everything and a guy with a little mechanical knowledge could fix just about anything on a car or truck himself. I was sure Jim wasn't just testing me because his hands and arms were greasy to the elbow and he couldn't open a door to go inside. What I wasn't ready for was his reaction when I went to hand him the jar.
"You'll have to hold it for me," he said. "My hands are so greasy I'd drop it. Actually, you'd better open my fly for me too."
The most popular jeans at the time were the Levi's with the button fly. To undo them, you started with the very top button and worked your way down and it took both hands to do it. So I set the jar down and with hands that were trembling I'm sure, undid all the buttons on the front of Jim's Levi's. Then I bent to pick up the jar and Jim told me, "You're gonna have to take it out too."
Since this was my future boss, and I had my summer job on the line, and maybe, if I was completely honest I really wanted to, I managed to get what looked to me to be the biggest cock in the world out of Jim's pants. I realized later that it had gotten semi stiff from my fumbling with the buttons on his fly, but at the moment I was mesmerized by his big pink prick. As dark as the rest of his skin had gotten, it almost looked out of place.
"Now hold the jar so I can pee in it," he told me.
I did as he said, holding the jar so his cock fell over the edge and was partly in the jar. When the piss began to stream out of the slit in his cockhead, I felt my cock get hard. By the time Jim finished peeing, I had a full blown erection and with my hands full holding the jar and his pants open, I had no way to hide it. "What now?" I asked.
"Drink it, throw it in the yard, or take it home and play with it. I don't care, but you need to do something so you can get my dick back in my pants. I can't stand here like this forever."
At the time, I felt like the only acceptable option had been throwing the pee out in the yard so that's what I'd done. Then I returned to find Jim standing, smiling, and waiting for me to put his cock back in his pants for him and button the fly. His cock wasn't yet fully stiff, but it was bigger than before he'd started pissing. And the harder I tried to get it in his pants, the harder it got, and more unlikely it became that I'd ever succeed. Jim had noticed my equally aroused condition and after letting me fumble around with his cock, and getting it completely hard, he told me, "Looks like we could both use a break. Good thing my folks are gone. Let that go and open the kitchen door for me and follow me in the house."
As usual, I did as instructed, allowing Jim to get to the kitchen sink without touching anything and turning on the hot water for him and pouring some soap in his hands. I was trying to ignore the hard cock sticking out of his pants, but I couldn't keep my eyes off it and Jim smiled at me as he noticed my avid interest. "Follow me to my room," he told me. "I've got some books we can look at."
The books he had were a small collection of "Playboy" magazines, and again giving away my age, these were from before they were allowed to show a woman's pubic hair. Now the photographers get so up close and personal that you can damn near see the girl's heart beat. But they were hot stuff for me at the time and when Jim suggested I pick a magazine, take off my shorts, and join him on the bed, I did.
Soon we were laying shoulder to shoulder, stroking our cocks, and looking at the pictures, telling each other what we'd like to do with the girls in the pictures. I think I might have made it through two or three pages before I sent jism flying everywhere, mostly on me, but some got on Jim. That didn't bother Jim at all and in fact, triggered the same reaction from him. I had rolled toward him to wipe up the glob of cum on his chest when he began to shoot, some of it hitting my nose and the side of my face. When a big part of it ran onto the corner of my mouth, I licked it off without thinking about what Jim might think as he watched me.
In the two months since I'd first jacked off thinking about the men in Jim's front yard, my masturbation fantasies had become progressively more homosexual. They hadn't gotten to dreaming of sucking or fucking, but had definitely gotten to where I wanted to see their cocks, hold them, and make them cum. And I'd become familiar with the taste of my own cum too. Previously, I'd done all my jacking off in the bathroom, or in bed, using a dirty sock to catch my jism, while thinking of some girl at school. Now I was more often doing it in front of the mirror, looking at my own naked body, and pretending it was another boy that I was watching. Unlike the first time, when I'd gotten cum on the floor, now I caught it with my free hand and when finished, the boy in the mirror and I would offer our cum to each other. In retrospect, I believe the only reason I wasn't fantasizing about sucking a cock was that I had no idea how to do it or what it would feel like. Jim would soon change that.
"Which do you like better, mine or yours?" Jim asked as we lay naked in his bed, our jack-off session over for the moment.
I wasn't sure what he meant. I thought he meant our cocks and since his was bigger, I told him, "Yours. It's a lot bigger."
He laughed. "It's not that much bigger and yours is bigger than some guys I've seen. What I meant was, do you like my cum better than yours?"
That was sort of like those trick questions guys tease each other with where any answer is wrong. I hadn't really thought about tasting his cum when I'd licked it off my upper lip and any answer I gave would be an admission that I'd tasted my own cum. So instead of answering his question, I responded, "Oh," to his explanation and let it drop.
"We can do it again if you like," he told me.
I shook my head. "I probably ought to get home for lunch."
He laughed. "I didn't mean right this minute. What I meant was if you'd like to jack off with me again some time, I'd like for you to join me. It's a lot better when you do it with someone else."
I'd never thought about doing it with someone else until I started with the boy in the mirror and thinking about Jim and his crew. Now it was all I thought about. Yet I didn't want to seem too enthusiastic about something I wasn't supposed to like. So I said, "Yeah, okay." But even as I said it, my eyes were on Jim's cock. He was slowly stroking it and there was a shiny glob of cum in the pee slit that seemed to be winking at me. I'm sure I made a lie of my feigned disinterest when I used my fingers to scoop up the cum on my belly and brought it to my mouth. After I'd licked my fingers, Jim indicated some on his chest and belly and even though it was his and not mine, I scooped it up and swallowed it too. I'm sure at that moment I would have sucked his cock if he'd asked, but since he didn't, I put on my clothes and went home.
For the following week, all my masturbatory fantasies involved letting Jim squirt his cum in my mouth. I'll admit, I was a little frightened of the sway Jim had over me at the moment and of how eager I was to do anything or everything he asked, sexual or not. School let out for me at mid-week and my sister graduated from junior high on Friday. Then Saturday morning, my parents joined some of the other parents in hosting a pool party for the graduates at a public pool. I had to go to my sister's graduation, but not the party and that left me free to visit Jim Saturday morning, using the excuse that I wanted to remind him I was ready to start work on Monday and to find out what tools I might need to have in my new but nearly empty toolbox.
He took me out in the back yard while he worked on some fence boards that had rotted and told me he was looking forward to me being on the crew and that for at least the first week or two I wouldn't need any tools, that he had extras and after I'd worked with them a while, I'd have a better idea of which tools I used more often and would want to buy. Then when he was sure his folks were inside, he told me he'd gotten a couple of new books but we couldn't enjoy them together while his folks were home. I told him mine weren't home and wouldn't be until dark and that he was welcome to come to my house.
An hour later, he was in my bedroom with his books, we were naked in my bed, and somehow I fought back the urge to confess I wanted him to shoot his cum in my mouth. But I'm sure he knew. He could see it in my eyes.
When we'd finished, he told me, "I'll be getting my own apartment in a few weeks and we won't have to worry about either of our parents being home."
That came as a surprise. He was indicating that he'd like to get together with me even after he moved. It was one thing to be a convenient neighbor – but being asked to visit what I considered an older man – that was something else again. Then before I had much time to think about it, he reminded me I should be ready at his house at 7:00 AM on Monday and added, "You'd better be prepared for a week of being the jar boy. Normally the guys might make you do that a time of two - it's a lot easier for them to cut loose in their shorts and to tell you the truth, I think we're all getting into this pants pissing stuff. But next week we're doing something different and they'll be other crews from other companies around and if they haven't put up a port-a-john, they'll be keeping you busy. And watch out for Dave. He can get a little carried away."
I was ready. Or at least I thought I was. The something different turned out to be a self-storage facility. Normally Jim's crew framed houses, but this was a job his uncle was doing as the general contractor. There were big long concrete slabs, with no plumbing or electricity. All the walls were cinder block put up by one crew, then Jim's was supposed to come behind them adding joists and rafters and a roof deck. Then a roofing crew would follow us putting down felt and shingles. Since all the measurements, from one end of the building to the other were the same, we started off pre-fabbing trusses and then Jim and Dave went up to put down a top plate and start nailing the trusses in place. For the first couple of hours they had me busy passing up the pre-fabbed trusses and bringing the other two guys the materials to cut and assemble more. I'd gotten so busy I'd forgotten about anything else but hauling material and helping pass up trusses when Dave told me, "When you finish there jar boy, I need to pee."
Jim was walking the top plate and Dave was working from a ladder inside. So when I brought Dave the jar, the only one that could see Dave below the waist was Jim from his position, and me from mine. I remember Jim telling me to watch out for Dave, but I never expected Dave to pee in my face and all over my body, blaming me for not holding the jar correctly. I'd expected him to hold the jar, since his hands hadn't been greasy like Jim's had been that morning Jim had peed in the jar. But as soon as I tried to pass it up to Dave, he took out his cock and began peeing. I tried to catch it in the jar, but he kept making me miss and pissing on me at the same time.
"Shit! Next time just put it in your mouth so you don't make a mess," he chided.
I could have argued, but knew that the more fuss I made, the longer the teasing and pranks would go on. But I was a bit surprised when I looked at Jim and he smiled and winked.
The next time Dave asked for the jar, I was ready for him. "Why bother," I shot back at him. "You can't hit the damn thing anyway. With an aim like yours, I'm surprised you can drive a nail."
"How about I bend your young ass over a saw horse and we'll see who can drive what!"
I didn't respond. I'd made my point and when I brought him the jar, he took it and used it like it was supposed to be done. Of course he had to get in the last word, "When you're done drinking that, come back and I'll give you a refill."
"If it was anyone else's I might want to drink it," I shot back. "But since it's yours, I think I'll pour it on those weeds they're trying to kill."
That evening, when we got off, the guys insisted I have a beer with them in Jim's front yard. And when the other guys took off, Jim thanked me for the help and complemented me on not backing down to Dave. "I thought sure he'd make life miserable for you the first week or so, but you came right back at him and I don't think he expected that." Then after a moment, he asked, "Are your folks home yet?"
It took me by surprise, especially the soft way he'd asked. I knew what he wanted to do. "No," I told him and wouldn't have been surprised if a tear had formed in the corner of my eye when I added, "But my sister is and my mom will be in a few minutes."
"Okay, no sweat," he told me, like it was no big deal. But I could tell he was disappointed. Then he started laughing. "Ol' Dave was SO damn surprised when you didn't drop the jar and run when he peed on you." Then he looked me in the eye and asked softly, "Did you like it?"
That was a question that had been going through my mind all day. I had expected to have all the guys pull out their cocks and pee in front of me and I hadn't been sure how I'd react. To be on the safe side, I'd worn an old jock strap, hoping that if I got a boner, it wouldn't be noticeable. But there had been a toilet available in what would become the office and Dave had been the only one to make me play jar boy. I'd been expecting it from all of them, and maybe hoping too – especially where Jim was concerned. After Dave had hosed me down with pee, I wondered if that was part of the initiation or something and if they'd all do it. I'd been hoping that Jim would. But he hadn't, so I answered him, "Not really. I might have if you'd done it."
Jim's blue eyes bore into me for what seemed like minutes but wasn't but a fraction of one. "If I do, then the rest of them will think it's okay. Is that all right with you?"
"As long as you do it first," I told him, almost blushing.
He smiled and winked at me. "I'll be thinking about you," he said as he started to move toward the house and gave a very brief movement of his hand, like he was jacking off, to make sure I understood.
"Me too," I responded dumbly and hoped he knew I'd meant I'd be thinking of him and not me too. Then I stopped him, "Almost forgot," I said, blushing. When he'd stopped and was looking at me, I let loose some of the pee I'd been holding all afternoon and Jim just stood there, watching and smiling. When I'd pissed enough to thoroughly wet the front of my shorts, I told him, "I guess that makes me one of the crew now huh?"
He nodded and told me, "You got it squirt. Be sure and do that tomorrow. The guys will love it."
I waited for my shorts to stop dripping before going in the house and then hoped I could get to the bathroom I shared with my sister before she spotted me with pissy wet shorts. I hadn't completely emptied my bladder, just releasing enough to soak my shorts and bring the pressure down to where I could cut it off. So I still needed to pee some more and had this wild idea in the back of my head. Fortunately, my sister was in her room, talking on the phone as usual, so I got to the bathroom, stripped off my clothes, and got in the tub without her ever knowing I'd come home. Then with my knees bent so that I could lay almost flat in the tub, I began pissing again, this time aiming for my wide open mouth.
It had been on my mind since Jim had made the remark about his jar of piss. He'd said to, "drink it, throw it out, or play with it." I'd thrown it out, but the idea of drinking it or playing with it had stuck in my mind. Since then, I'd tried playing with my own pee, wetting my pants and pissing on myself in the tub. But that morning, when Dave had mentioned drinking his piss, the urge to take that step had hit me again. It was an exciting thought, but I wanted to try my own first. I'd have been a lot more successful had I just pissed in a glass and drank it that way. Trying to pee in my mouth was a lot harder than I'd imagined. But I got to taste enough to decide the taste wasn't bad at all. In fact, compared to the taste of cum, which had put me off at first, pee had a sort of nice flavor to it. Then another chapter of my life began.
As I was to find out later, my sister had been about to take a bath when the phone had rung and like most females of any age, a ringing phone is their first priority. I honestly believe a woman would pause in the middle of childbirth to take a phone call. I know now for a fact they'll stop in the middle of sex to do it.
Anyway, my sister had gone to her room to take the call and left a few of her things in the bathroom we shared. It wasn't unusual for my sister to take a bath and leave her used underwear laying around and I mistakenly assumed that's what she'd done. I thought the panties laying on the toilet seat were some she'd worn already and for reasons I'm still at a loss to explain all these years later, when I finished drying off, I decided to try on the panties.
My little sister had been leaving panties and bras and nighties in the bathroom for years and I'd never paid any attention to them. But not now; not since Jim and his crew had heightened my sexual senses and some of that heightened awareness had spilled over into the way I was looking at women. One of the things that had suddenly occurred to me was that my little sister was very quickly becoming a woman. A perfect example was the panties. At some point in recent weeks or months or maybe even years – I'd paid that little attention - she'd stopped wearing the plain white cotton panties that she'd worn from the day she was out of diapers. The panties she'd left in the bathroom were nylon, lacy, and in my opinion, sexy as hell. Another indication my sister was growing up was the fact that the panties fit me. My little sister was quickly filling out in all the right places.
My plan had been to jack off in the tub as soon as I was done with the pee play, but I'd grown to enjoy my masturbation sessions with the guy in the mirror and . . . I'd spotted those panties and wondered what they'd look like if I wore them. So I'd put them on, grabbed my things, and gone to my room. I was standing in front of the mirror, the panties pulled down in front so I could pump my prick, and was about two strokes from sexual nirvana when my sister walked in, looking for the panties she was sure I'd taken. I'm not sure which shocked her more; the sight of me wearing the panties or jacking off. And I don't know which embarrassed me more; being caught wearing her panties or jacking off. I waited for the scream that I was sure was coming and was already preparing to make whatever deal I needed to make to keep her from telling our parents. But all she did was stare at my cock. Then I noticed it was much the same as the way I'd stared at Jim's. If I still had any doubts about how fast my sister was growing up, they disappeared in a hurry when she told me to finish, that she wanted to watch.
I'm not an exhibitionist. I wasn't then and I'm not one now. But I had to admit that the thought of a girl watching me jack my cock was exciting, even if the girl was my own sister. Little Jenny had become Jenifer and if Jenifer wanted to watch me jack off, I really wasn't in any position to argue. "Do it," she said, "And you can keep the panties." I wanted to argue that I'd had no intention of keeping the panties or of even using them more than the one time, but that original intention had faded as I'd been jacking my cock and thinking how sexy I looked in panties. So I went back to looking at my jack-off buddy, the guy in the mirror that always matched me stroke for stroke, admiring his hard cock and his sexy panties, and as best I could, I ignored the young woman that had moved to stand beside me while the guy in the mirror and I pumped our pricks. And since I was blocking out Jenifer's presence, it never occurred to me how she'd react to seeing me catch my cum and then lick my hand clean.
"Oh wow," she exclaimed. "You like it? I think it tastes kind of yucky."
Two thoughts flashed through my mind at once. The first was that my little sister must have sucked a cock and the second was that with that bit of information, I had some leverage with my sister if she decided to say anything about what I'd just done. I had a few questions to ask my sister and I was sure she had a few to ask me, but as soon as the show was over, so to speak, she turned and walked back out of the room. That left me standing there in a pair of panties I'd meant to borrow for only a few minutes and had been gifted with instead. I felt like I should take them off, but that imparted me with the question of where to put them. The natural place would have been my underwear drawer but most of the time my mom refilled that drawer for me and I was sure she'd take a very unfavorable stance when it came to her son wearing panties. Over the last few years, I'd had a few of those magazines like Jim had stashed in his room and no matter where I stashed mine, my mother found them and after they were in the trash and gone, she'd tell me about it, reminding me that filthy literature had no place in her house. So the only place I could think of was in my toolbox in the garage until a better plan came to mind.
Jenny, or the more adult sounding Jenifer as she preferred to be called now, didn't get into a discussion with me that evening and when I tried to talk to her, she said to wait until the following weekend, that our folks would be visiting our Aunt and probably be gone overnight. I wasn't interested in getting into that much of a discussion, but I accepted her idea and let it drop. I had more immediate things to concern myself with, like work the next day.
The next morning, I wasn't sure how Jim had taken my parting comments the evening before and what he might say or do about it. But I trusted him to keep me from being physically hurt and anything else I could get over – or as it turned out, under.
We went through the whole morning without any incidents and just a little joking and teasing, most of it with me as the butt of the joke of course. It was mid-afternoon when Jim hollered, "Hey jar boy. I need some relief over here." So I went to his truck to get the jar, wondering what Jim might have in mind, and couldn't find the damn jar. I think I knew then. When I went back to Jim and told him the jar was missing, he said, "No problem. Jar boy can be the jar. Open your mouth and stand still." I was glad I'd worn my jock strap again because I started getting a hard on even before Jim got his cock out and began pissing down on me. I guess it was about six or eight feet up from my mouth to the head of Jim's cock and with that much distance, the stream of piss was no longer a stream by the time it reached me. In addition, with no ceiling or roof, the wind that was blowing swirled inside each of the little storage cubicles, making it nearly impossible for Jim to pee in my mouth. But we tried, even though it didn't do much good. By the time Jim finished I was wet with piss from my forehead down. Carl had been working with Jim and he just watched in awe. By the end of the day, Carl, Dave, and Cody had all done the same thing and I'd learned to climb half-way up the ladder so I could catch most of the hot pee in my mouth.
That evening, when we got to Jim's house, he told the guys I'd passed my initiation and there'd be no more days like today. In some ways I was grateful for that, as I'm sure if we kept it up, the word would get around. But in another way, it had been exciting and I'd enjoyed it. As soon as the other guys were gone, Jim asked me if I had had enjoyed it and I answered honestly. "Well in that case, I better remember to keep my bladder full for any time you come see me." Then with that famous wink and smile, he went in his house and I went to mine.
The rest of the week flew by. A couple of times, when one of the other crews was working fairly close to us, one of the guys would ask me to get the old fruit jar and they'd use it properly, giving it back to me to dump. The rest of the time it was business as usual, with all of us pissing in our shorts and letting the Arizona sunshine evaporate it in minutes. Friday afternoon, when we got to Jim's we had a few extra beers. Normally I just had one, but Jim had iced down a case for the occasion, since we'd knocked out the job ahead of schedule and would all be getting bonus checks again. My next surprise from Jim came the following morning and it followed a surprise from my parents by minutes.
My sister and my mom talked constantly which was why Jenifer had known they were going out of town for a day or two. She was always much more aware of our parents plans than I was. So it came as a surprise to me when my mom told me at breakfast that she was taking Jenifer with them and that I'd have to fend for myself for two days. Microwave ovens weren't that popular yet, but TV dinners were and they'd made sure there were enough in the freezer that I wouldn't starve for the two days. My cooking skills have improved greatly since then but at the time, I couldn't fix a piece of toast without burning it. Mom and dad and Jenifer were still packing a few things into the car when Jim rang our doorbell and mom let him in. He had a tool-belt over his shoulder, with a couple of leather pouches and a few of the standard tools hanging off it. At first glance, I suspected he had a job he wanted help with, but I was wrong.
"My old belt," he explained, "and some extra tools. Monday you start swinging a hammer with the rest of the crew. You'll still be a go-fer, but it's time to start building up those building muscles."
My mom beamed at me proudly. Her little boy was becoming a man and being accepted into a man's world. My dad however, looked rather skeptically on the whole thing. He was afraid I might decide to skip college and follow in Jim's footsteps. My folks were barely out of the driveway, when Jim asked, "You've got your own tape right?"
"In my toolbox," I answered proudly, leading the way to the garage. I'd splurged on the most expensive measuring tape, since that was the one tool I was sure I'd need no matter what they had me do. Why mentioning my toolbox didn't remind me that I'd stashed Jen's panties in there, I don't know. Maybe I wanted Jim to see them and that's why I'd hid them there to begin with. I've learned a lot about subconscious motivation and things like that since then, and I suppose there're all sorts of possibilities, but for whatever reason – or motivation – I didn't. The bottom line is that as soon as I opened the toolbox, there were the pink panties right on top.
"Planning to start a new trend in work uniforms?" Jim joked. "I'm sure you'd look cute dressed in those, but I don't think the rest of the guys would go for it."
Quickly I explained that I'd had no intention of bringing them to work, either in my toolbox or on my person, and then told him the whole story of how Jenifer had caught me and given the panties to me without my asking for them. "I was just going to try it that one time," I tried to assure him.
He nodded and in a disbelieving tone told me, "Yeah." Then he said, "Put them on."
I was so used to taking orders from Jim that I never hesitated. Right there in the garage, with the garage door still open, I stripped down and stepped into the panties. Jim was telling me how cute I looked when a car drove by and we realized it might be a good idea to close the garage door before one of the neighbors spotted me. With the door closed and the house to ourselves, Jim took his time, admiring me from all angles and making me repeat the whole story about jacking off in my sister's panties in front of my sister. Then he told me I looked so sexy he was going to have to go home and beat his meat. I reminded him that my folks had just left for the weekend and had taken my sister with them and he didn't have to go anywhere if he wanted to jack off together again. He told me he needed his magazines for inspiration and didn't think just pounding his pud without the magazines would work. "I've always jacked off looking at pictures," he said, then added what was an obvious hint, "Or had a girlfriend that would do it for me."
I'm sure my voice was cracking when I suggested that maybe I could pretend to be his girlfriend. Instead of jumping at my offer, he made a big show – faking I'm sure - of trying to decide if that would be okay. Maybe his big brain couldn't decide, but judging by the lump growing in his shorts, his little head had made up its mind. Then he asked, "What else of your sister's do you wear?"
I tried to explain again that it had been a one time thing and that I'd never had any desire to wear any of Jen's clothes, but when that seemed to disappoint him, I told him, "But we have all weekend. I guess it wouldn't hurt to try it."
We looked at most everything in Jenifer's room. She did have some sexy panties, but most everything else was rather plain. Jim hinted we should look through my mom's things but I drew the line on that. Then he spotted a white baby-doll nightie and told me to just wear the top with the pink panties and I would look really sexy. I tried it and had to agree that it did make me look and feel like a sexy woman. Then Jim wanted me to put on makeup, but I balked at that, compromising on just putting on some lipstick. I didn't know how, so he helped me and when he finished, he told me, I had, "Fuckable lips." I'd never heard that before and it took a minute for me to realize what he meant. I'll admit that when the realization hit me, I flushed with excitement.
Then we went to my room and immediately Jim stripped down naked and laid in the middle of my bed, stroking his cock with one hand and fondling his nuts with the other. "Sit on the bed next to me and watch how I do it," he instructed. After a couple of minutes of that, he took his hands away and told me, "Now you do it."
I'd heard stories about guys at school that had gotten together to play with each other's cocks and had never been sure if they were true or not. None of those stories had come from the parties involved – they'd all been about someone else that was supposed to have done it. Now I was going to go those stories one better by playing with the cock of the man next door. Holding Jim's cock in my hand again was an absolutely awesome experience. I'd gotten excited taking it out of his pants to pee and then trying to put it away. But I hadn't really thought of that as sexual. This was definitely sexual. Sex was the sole purpose of me having his cock in my hands. It's impossible to describe all the feelings that were going through me at that moment. Almost immediately pre-cum began to ooze from the tip and I used that to lubricate my hands as more and more of the clear runny cream flowed out. Then Jim told me to kiss it.
I knew what he really wanted and I did too. I gave the head of his cock a kiss and when I pulled back to admire his manhood from up close, a string of pre-cum stretched from my lower lip to his prick. I tried to catch it with my tongue and wound up licking the underside of Jim's cock. Then I did it before he asked. I knew he was going to. I kissed his cock again, this time letting my lips part as I slowly slide more and more of his cock in my mouth. I had no idea how to give a man a blow job so I went slowly, trying different things and when one of those things would make Jim moan or say, "Oh yeah," I'd remember to do that more often than the things that got no response. When he told me, "Stop – I'm close," and pushed me back, I remembered he liked to play with his nuts when he jacked off and began licking him there. That caused him to grab his cock and beat if frantically for a few seconds before telling me through clenched teeth, "I'm gonna cum if you want it."
Being new to all this, I wasn't sure how I was supposed to take it. The only thing I had available to catch his spewing sperm was my mouth. Then I realized that's what he meant and got my lips over the head of his cock just as the first volley of jism spurted out. Forgetting how sensitive a cock can be at that moment, I tried to suck out more and Jim had to stop me, holding my head still with one hand while he continued to milk his cock with the other. Afraid to do something else wrong, I did nothing, remaining perfectly still while he filled my mouth with his tasty cream. I waited until he'd taken both hands away before letting his cock slip from between my lips. Then I looked up at him and when I had his attention, made a show of swallowing his whole load in one huge gulp, licking my lips when I'd finished. After a moment, he looked at me with a huge smile and said, "Sammy, that's got to be the best blowjob I've ever had."
I found that hard to believe, since it was the first time I'd done it. But I wasn't about to argue either. "I can get better with practice," I reminded him as he pulled me up beside him to hug me.
"I'm sure you can," he answered grinning. "And you're really pretty. If you keep practicing being a girl, you could be beautiful."
I know he meant it as a compliment, but that was something I'd have to think about some more. My goal had been to look like Jim and the rest of his crew, all muscled up and trim and tan for my senior year of high school. Being pretty or beautiful hadn't been in my plans at all. But for the moment, or the weekend at least, if Jim wanted me to be his `girl' then that's what I'd be. "Anything my big handsome man wants," I teased, reaching to hold his wilting prick.
"You didn't cum," he reminded me. "Jack off on my cock and then lick it clean."
I didn't know where Jim came up with these erotic ideas, but as long as I was involved in them, I didn't care. I knelt between his legs, raised the hem of my nightie and lowered my panties and in short order, coated Jim's cock, balls, and pubic hair with my jism. Then I went to work licking it up, adding the flavor of my cum to the flavor of his, still lingering in my mouth. Then we relaxed for a while, laying shoulder to shoulder in my bed, talking about anything and everything.
After a few minutes he asked, "Did you like it when the guys peed in your mouth Tuesday? It looked to me like you did."
It had been weird, strange, different, bizarre even – and very exciting. Instead of telling him all that, I answered succinctly, "Yeah, I did."
He wanted more. "What did you like best?"
I had to think about that. "I'm not sure," I told him, finding it hard to put it in words.
"I was watching you and you seemed to be in a trance when you got up close to their cocks. Did you like them pulling their cocks out so close to your face?
He was right. That had been a big part of it. I could close my eyes and picture each of the four cocks without a problem. "Yeah, I really did. They're all different and . . . all . . . beautiful."
"Did you like drinking their piss? Did it taste good? It looked like you got hard every time you did it."
I kept wondering why he continued on this subject and then it hit me. "Jim," I asked. "Are you hinting you want me to drink your pee?"
He smiled and nodded and I moved to close my lips around his cock again. I didn't want to spill any in my bed and have to explain to my mom how my mattress got stained. I wasn't entirely successful, but as I discovered later, there was only one small area where it was enough to soak through the sheets to the mattress and when it dried, it didn't leave a stain. When his bladder was drained, he asked me how I'd like to suck off all the guys on the crew and drink their cum and pee like I'd done his. I wasn't sure if he was serious so I asked him.
He hesitated a moment then told me, "Me and Dave have been doing it since high school. I'm not sure about Carl, but Tuesday, Cody was watching you drink the other guy's pee and rubbing his cock. It was turning him on and I think he'd go for it."
"You and Dave? I thought he was from Scottsdale?"
"We went to different schools together."
When he saw that confused me, he explained how they'd met working for Jim's uncle one summer while they were still in school. That fall Jim had been a receiver on his high school football team and Dave had been a defensive back on his and they'd met several times during the game when Dave would tackle him. Then the following summer they'd worked for his uncle again and had become good friends. "His brother has a lease on an apartment near ASU and is moving out this summer. Dave and I are going to take over the lease."
"Neat. You'll be able to party all the time!"
"Yeah, we'll do some of that I'm sure. I'm just looking to be away from my parents and Dave can't wait to wear diapers whenever he wants."
I wasn't sure I'd heard right. "Dave wants to wear diapers?" He seemed to wet his pants more than any other guy on the crew and made sure I was always aware of it. I wondered if he had some weird medical problem, but Jim explained he didn't.
"He loves them. I know it sounds weird but he's gotten me to try it a couple of times and it . . . it's kind of neat. You know how it feels good when you cut loose in your shorts at work? Well wearing a diaper is like that and the feeling doesn't stop. Dave's got a roommate now that doesn't like him to do it. But I don't care as long as he doesn't scare the chicks away." Then he rolled up on one elbow and brought his other arm across so he could rub my chest through the nightie. He tweaked my nipples and told me, "Speaking of chicks. I'm not teasing you or anything so don't take this wrong. You really could be a good looking girl if you decided to dress like one."
"Might be fun," I told him, "But I don't think my folks would like it at all. I think they're pretty happy having just one daughter and one son."
"Yeah, but just think," he said, as his hand drifted down to begin playing with my panty covered prick. "If you could pass as a girl, you could pick up guys, suck their cocks, and they'd never know."
I started to protest that I wasn't all that interested in finding cocks to suck, but that would have been a lie and one he'd see through. I'd never stopped fondling Jim's cock and still had it in my hand. And the way I'd perked up when he'd mentioned sucking all the guys on the crew – that had to have been a giveaway too. So I told him a partial lie. "The only cock I want to suck is yours."
He was still laying on his side, his face inches from mine. He gave me another of those smiles with a wink and told me, "Don't let me stop you."
That sounded like an invitation to me, and since his cock had swelled in the last few minutes to more than fill my hand, as surprised as I was to see he was ready again so soon, I wasn't about to pass on an opportunity. With renewed lust I moved into position to mouth his prick.
This time was different. The last time he'd been hard and drooling pre-cum when I started. This time his dick wasn't but half-hard and as I sucked and licked, I enjoyed the thrill of it growing in my mouth. I wasn't sure where my sexual future was headed, but I knew for sure that a cock in my mouth would always be at least a part of it.
Yet even as I sucked, my mind wondered about what it would be like to do something like this to a woman. I was a seventeen year-old virgin, weeks from being eighteen, and what appeared to me at times as being light years away from ever getting laid. Aside from the obvious physical differences, I wondered how a woman would feel if I were to use my mouth to pleasure her. I'd heard all the usual teenage bull-shit about eating pussy – some of it good and some of it bad. I had to accept the word of my supposedly more experienced friends as I had no experiences of my own to use to judge whether or not they were telling the truth. I wondered, if the day ever came when I'd find a woman that would let me, if I'd find eating pussy to be anywhere near as exciting as I found sucking a cock to be. Then I wisely decided to worry about that at some other time and devote my full attention to the incredible sexual experience of sucking a cock and making it explode with joy in my mouth. And maybe, if I was lucky and did a good job and Jim's bladder wasn't completely empty, he'd have some pee for me to drink too.
In a round about sort of way, that old fruit jar from Jim's truck played a part in my getting that first experience with eating pussy that I'd been thinking about. If you want my sissy friend Amber to tell you about that, or of the experiences I had because of my sister catching me in her panties, be sure to let `her' know.
Amber_Fountaine@hotmail.com