Ryan Air - Part 18
Ryan has a summer holiday off from his university job and spends it with the lads, learning to plaster, getting plastered more like. These boys know how to work hard and play hard.
Don't forget to donate to Nifty to ensure the archive is maintained and new stories are published. https://donate.nifty.org/
Thanks for your comments, always welcomed.
Ryan Air - Part 18 - Getting down to it
I woke up with a start. It's Sunday, Ginge was on my cock, half way down the shaft, sucking like billio.
`Morning Ginge, er you'll have to stop unless you want a mouthful of piss'
He pulled off and thought about it,
Come on' he said I love watching you piss'
and we ran and emptied our tanks into the pan, exhaling.
We heard Fozz banging about cooking.
`5 minutes lads, just time for a quick wank' he shouted.
`Captains orders' I said to Ginge, he grinned and hugged me, my heart skipped a beat.
We sat on the bed legs entwined, close, chest to chest kissing as we wanked each other off, our plumes of spunk landing inbetween us. We fell onto the bed and straddled in a 69 licking and cleaning our partners holes and cock then lying back licking up the cum shots.
We dried off with a towel and ran to the table, cocks now satisfyingly soft and scoffed Fozz's huge Sunday omelette.
We dozed about all day, reading, chatting, relaxing, watching each other get hard and soften again.
I gave Fozz and Ginge one of my massages, making him groan as I worked on his glorious back, its like an anatomy lesson, I move down to his glutes, me and Ginge laughed as I opened his crack and we watched his pucker twitch as I blew on it, beautiful Fozz. He was boned up when he turned him over, I massaged his huge arms and kneaded his pecs as Ginge worked on his balls and cock, slurping his precum down as he bobbed on his head, swallowing his load as Fozz shot his bolt. Now it was Ginges turn, he laughed and said it tickled, a sign of someone not used to loving bodily contact. I took it slow, flat palms, not fists and soon he relaxed and moaned to himself as I stretched and pummelled his scrawny back, Fozz fingered his hole and he ended up cumming hands free over the rug as I massaged his thighs, my beautiful Ginge.
At the site, Degsy was giving me better jobs now, I was trying out the final finish, Degsy was very patient and said I could do one apartment a day to build up my skills and confidence.
`The fucking mix seems to know when you're nervous' he says.
The weeks went by, lots of work, lots of sex, no repeat with Michelle and no sign of her being up the duff, I put that night to the back of our minds, tucked it away.
Ginge was an ace mixer, Degsy called him Champ instead of Ginge, the others lads picked it up, Champ beamed when heard his new name shouted out. Degsy said he could stop saying `Sir' in response to orders as he was one of the team now.
I heard Degsy and Macca chatting about Champ,
`how about getting Champ plastering then we can start Pat on to mix for us. Champs a practical lad, you only need to tell him something once. I think he'll pick it up quickly, he's a bit scrawny though but holding that Hawk and Blade full of mix will soon thicken him out.
`You'd better tell Pat to mix it with the drill and not his big dong', they laughed.
`So shall I give Dongo the news then?'
No' said Macca, I'll call to The Feathers on my way home and he can reward me in the bogs' as he clutched his package, `I might get one on the house!'
Pat or Dongo as he was known now fitted in well, the contract was half way through, we were about to move floors and start from scratch again. I'd mastered ceilings and my finish was not great but good enough, not like Degsy who's got speed and accuracy, never wasting a drop of mix.
Dongo is a great success. He's a popular lad, cheeky and able to stand the ribbing about his assets. Dongo and Fozz are inseparable, sharing breaks and snap. Fozz making his sandwiches for him. I noticed he gives him little treats on the side, his favourite crisps, a few quality street chocolates, or a banana.
Dongo wants to move in with Fozz and has smartened himself up, hair cut, new clothes, dropped his dodgy mates and he eats like Ginge, those two can put it away.
Every Friday when we get back from The Feathers after a few beers, Dongo and Ginge strip and flex for us, Fozz measures their progress, arms, thighs, cocks soft (if we can) and hard (easy), chest when extended. He takes a photo on his phone in same position every week, and on an app you can see the progress as the images play back like a video.
Dongo eventually moved in, thrown out by his dad. Fozz is happy, no more sharing Ginge, we keep to our partners.
Summer comes around again and I realise it's been over a year now since I joined the gang. Finally giving up my languages lecturing, I'm happier and fitter than I've ever been but my pension is on hold and I sometimes miss the £4k a month for little physical effort, easy money.
Over the year the lads have really bulked out, their voices dropped, cocks thickened, arses opened up. Fozz's video record shows the change from scrawn to brawn.
Me and Ginge are putting money away every week, saving up. I'm ok with my new job plastering, from a linguist to a plasterer in 18 months!
Im learning new skills, Fozzie has had me fitting skirtings as soon as the plaster has set enough, it saves time as I'm already in the room and he can concentrate on fitting the complicated doors and casements.
Degsy says it's ok as it speeds up the job meaning more money to split each week. Champ is getting real good at plastering, filling the gap when I'm doing the skirtings, he's so fast and accurate, all you hear is `mix Dong' all day.
Degsy is pleased as they are ahead of the other trades putting pressure on Ryo to finish the electrics, driving the job.
Ginge wants his younger `brother' Wayne, to mix for him, Degsy says theres not enough work in our team, and this jobs going to end eventually, but he's heard of another building in Liverpool that is up for a residential conversion, it's the same outfit as this but being in Liverpool it means more travelling.
I'm thinking about long term, Ginge is a beautiful 18 year old now. We celebrated his birthday in The Feathers where he bought his first legal round, Boss eyed Roy put on a spread and we stayed the evening.
After Roy had called `Time' he locked the front door, shut the fire escape and pulled on the curtains.
Degsy stood up and said
Right lads, first up, lets sing Happy Birthday to Ginge',
We sang and sone kadd swapped thd lyrics for a bawdy version. Something about hot spunk up your chute.
Degsy says `Ginge is serving now, and every round you buy you all take off one piece of clothing. Get to it lads.'
Macca and Degsy took it for the team, stripping off each round. Degsy was naked, Macca was naked, the whole room was stripped, clothes kicked into a pile, fuck it was a hot sight.
`right lads round two'
Says Degsy , `Every guy that jizzes gets a free pint on Ginge.'
We all linked up, one arm over shoulders in a circle and all naked, we jumped up and down, singing like we'd won the cup, cocks slapping about.
I reached down and grabbed hold of Ryan's cock as we jumped up and down, setting off a reaction, a big hand gripped mine, I looked to my side and Beefo had hold of dick in his calloused hand, he grinned at me
`nice one mate' he said.
Soon we were all being wanked off by mates.
`This is gonna cost you a packet Ginge' shouts Ryan.
Degsy orders Ginge to
`Lie down in the middle Birthday boy for your cumming of age'
Speedo jizzed first, huge plumes of cum splattering on Ginges now muscular but still lopsided chest, setting off the chain reaction, followed by volley after volley from all they guys coating Ginge in jizz, like a lemon drizzle cake. Dongo was last, shoving his cock in Ginges mouth, gagging him. Ginge spat him out,
`pervert' he said.
`You've not jizzed yet birthday boy, said Beefo.
He knelt and gently teased out a load from Ginges cock, making him gasp as he shot his load.
Roy poured the 12 pints and we staggered back to our seats, some limp and some still hard and supped them back.
We'd all had enough, homes and families to get back to, kids to bath, life carried on.
Macca wanted to bunk up at ours on the sofa, he was pissed.
Fozz wrote Maccas home address on a piece of paper and pushed him into a taxi with the address and a £20 note.
We walked back and crashed.
On site on Monday, Macca called a meeting at snap time.
`Right lads, I've been asked by Marky if we can hire out Champ to his team, we're a bit over staffed now we have Dongo on the books, so I agreed. Kim's gonna work out a rate so we make money on top, why should that fucker get the benefit of all our training?'
That got me thinking, Ryan and Fozz had access to loads of fit young lads desperate to work, we had the on the job work to train them up, just like they did with me and with Ginge. Might be something in this?
I looked into setting up a training arm of the collective. Making it official, no more cash in hand for the lads but a structured training scheme. I thought back to my training and Ginges and wrote it up as a scheme with aims and objectives, staging points, reviews etc. I was glad to be using my brain and laptop for other than watching pornos with Ginge.
I set up a company `FIT training' with £100 from each of us, including Ginge and Dongo, and started applying for grants. I got £10k immediately to take on 4 apprenticeships. We were off.
Ginge and Dongo rustled up 4 discreet, ripe young lads on the basis of cock size and prettiness.
Degsy and Ryan held auditions in the bogs at The Feathers, all four passed the inspection.
Some real firecrackers' said Degsy it'll be good fun breaking these lads in!'
`Can't fucking wait' said Ryan,
`You need to be tomming your bird, not these lads arses.'
`Plenty of spunk to go around' says Ryan.
I thought back to that night and Ryo firing blanks and sighed.
Macca was well chuffed with FIT.
All these fucking lads working for free, train em up, sell `em on to other gangs per hour, we're making a fucking killing lads'.
Fridays were getting hornier, Ginge and Dongo introduced the boys to the delights of Fridays at The Feathers, getting pissed at three after putting in a gruelling shift all week mixing for Degsy and me. Getting the piss taken out of them. Watching them horn up at Degsy having a cheeky piss in the mix bucket. Boners in there sweatpants.
The promotions progressed, I finally mastered ceilings and was pantsed and my body covered in plaster by the lads, my initiation complete,
I walked to the lads at snap break and the grabbed me, stripped me naked then they took a handful of mix and plastered it over my body, it was cold and it stung, they then took photos of me looking like a statue and quickly hosed me down, washing the plaster off me before it set. The cold water did nothing for my cock, a shrivelling worm! I shivered and dressed as we sat, snuggled up in the glow of friendship eating our snap, silent.
The government wanted work records and scripts of achievements for the apprentices. I gathered the 4 lads around for the last hour each Friday and we completed the FIT record of achievements. I had lots to do on admin typing all the handwritten scrawls and mis-spellings but this was the only way to secure the payments from training council.
The next grant was a whopper, £197,000 for 16 trainees, rent of a training space and purchase of a crew bus. We splashed out and got hoodies and trackers with FIT across the front and FIT across the arse of the sweats from a pal of Degsys.
Each leader took two trainees and showed them the ropes, at this level it was just a way of getting their hands off their cocks and doing something useful like mixing plaster or pulling a cable or sawing a skirting board to length.
Macca couldn't believe it, once the lads were trained to a basic level after what, maybe or six weeks of barrack room bullshit we sold them on for £10 an hour cash to progress their skills with other gangs, we were paying the lads wages out of the government trades training council grants. We made sure the gangs were known to us and just as friendly.
The training space we hired was the function room above The Feathers, a nice little ruse and so convenient. Of course we let the pub continue to use the room for funeral teas or occasional party's. Roy was well pleased, we paid him his inflated rental monthly charges on invoice from the grant and I reckon we got most of it back from Roy in beers and guilt money, funding our FIT Fridays. Win win.
Each skill lead or `Master' had 2 apprentices which we selected based on our personal sexual preferences. We trained them up on the job, straightening them out, instilling a work ethic, making them shit scared of us then gradually easing off until we were like wanking buddies, not shy around each other.
Many of the lads had troubled lifestyles, chaotic family and friends, this slowed some down, they'd blob days and miss sessions. We needed better control of them. We decided the only way was to live with them 24/7. This caused social a lot of anxiety but we got permission to educate and socialise the internees in our own ways.
The flat next to Fozzies came empty, Ginge and I rented it meaning we had a bedroom to bunk our 2 lads in and so did Fozz. Ryan moved his gym kit to the garage using the spare bedroom and Degsy got bunks in his shed. Macca was barred, not by us but by Kim, she said she wasn't having two horned up spotty teens wanking all over the place in her house, thank you very much! I couldn't see what was wrong!
We took board money out of of the lads wages and sat back and introduced them slowly to the ways of the world; walking through naked from a shower, playing a MFM or MM porno, being caught snogging Ginge or leaving the bedroom door ajar, easing out our weekend morning woods away in a mouth or an arse. Walking about with less and less on, encouraging them, teasing them. Eventually we'd get one of them in our beds and slowly they'd want more from us. Mostly practical advice that all growing lads need to learn, to experience. Show and tell, show and feel, show and taste, show and cum, and ultimately show and fuck.
Better with us than hurried sessions in dirty park toilets or the bus station.
Sam and Sebastian were two great lads, Sam was a real street wise one, rough as fuck, into everything.