SPLATTERED!
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
I was walking under the scaffolding up against a building. Not construction, though the old building was in pretty bad shape, they were painting the building inside and out. After that, they would move some poor schmuck into the place who would try to operate a new business of some kind or other (this street was 100% commercial here, stores and offices and nothing else), when it happened.
"Plop" it went and it landed on my left shoulder and it was white and it was runny. Not a pigeon with good aim, I wasn't that lucky.
"Shit!" I griped, stopping. And that's when the second blob hit me, this one got my right side on my shirt front. A bigger glob, in went down my shirt and onto my pants in no time.
I scrabbled clear, though that took going off the sidewalk and onto the parking lane on the road. "Hey! Hey up there!" I called.
A guy in a white set of clothes looked down. His paint brush was the culprit, I had no doubt, there was a third blob that splatted where I had been. "What?"
"You got paint on my clothes!" I called up to him.
"So what you want me to do about it?" was his laconic answer. "You saw we were painting up here."
"I thought you were painting the building, not painting the people on the sidewalk!" I said. I was pissed. "I was on my way to work."
"So go to work."
"I work for an attorney." I said meaningfully. You can't sue someone for a miscreant blob of paint, not really. Best you can do is write a nasty letter to the employer of whoever was responsible, and they send you a check for the cost of your ruined clothes. Not for new clothes, but some minuscule amount to let you buy clothes as old as the ones you were wearing at some second-hand store.
But you can do what I did, you can cow a worker who never finished high school.
"What the hell you want us to do?" he asked in a more respectful tone.
"You got something I can take this out with?" I said.
He thumbed me toward the alley. "Talk to the boss, white trailer in back." he said. "Maybe he's got an idea."
The boss. Good guy to get the name of when I wrote the letter demanding payment for my clothes. I went back there.
The trailer was a large box on wheels, a sort of traveling office. Inside was no office, unless you count a desk at one end. The rest was sort of a storage area for paint cans and a sort of laundry area. It was deserted, nobody in there.
I was looking around, trying to decide what to do when the door opened and a burly man in white clothes slammed in the door. Whooh! This was the boss? "Are you the boss here?" I asked.
"Yeah. Pablo said you were bitching about paint getting on you?"
"Yeah!" I said. "Look at this."
"You want the money for the clothes?" he said. At least he wasn't arguing about where the paint came from. I was glad of that, this guy wasn't such a bad sort after that bad first impression. Sandy brown hair, a clean, nice-looking face but not handsome, a bit too battered by life for that, over a body that said he had been working hard all his life, those muscles were for working, not for show. Burly, like I said, and the top of his shirt said that the chest was hairier than usual though not up to gorilla-status. He fairly gleamed of testosterone and machismo, the blue-collar stud which builds our homes and makes civilization turn.
"Can you clean it off me?"
He cocked his head on one side. "You got a couple of hours for that?"
"Two hours?"
"Best we can do is scrape it off best we can and try to dissolve what's left with turpentine." he said. "Then run it through the washer and dryer." he gestured at the small combo unit he had in the trailer.
"Shit." I said, frowning. I had an appointment at eleven o'clock. "Yeah, I guess I got two hours. Let me call my office and tell them I'll be late."
"Strip, then call." he said, clearing his desk of papers.
I sighed and began to undo my shirt. "Shit, it got my undershirt too." I said as I peeled off my shirt. "What's that for?"
"Putty blade." he said belligerently, showing it to me. "Scrape off what we can, remember?"
"Okay, sorry." I said.
"Hurry up and get out of those clothes." He said. "Sooner we do this, the more will come out."
I shucked my shirt and handed it to him and then my t-shirt while he laid the shirt on the table and scraped at the paint. Not much came off.
I got my pants off and saw to my disgust that the briefs were also stained. But I wasn't stripping them off.
The boss guy finished with the shirt and turned to me. "Those, too." he pointed at my Jockeys.
"I can't take off my shorts." I protested.
"You leave them off, you'll stain your pants all over again." he said. "Come on, hurry, that paint is drying fast. Too late and your clothes will be ruined for sure."
"All right." I grunted and skinned them down. Now I was wearing nothing but a pair of black dress socks. "Here you go." I said as I handed him my briefs.
"Thanks." he said. But he wasn't looking at my shorts when he took them. Or my face.
Okay, I have a nice package there. My cock doesn't shrink up as much as most people so it was hanging kind of loose and flapping now. I have eight inches, but even deflated it hangs down to about six. "Uh, my pants still have paint on them."
"Huh? Oh!" he turned to the pants he had just laid out on the desk and wielded the blade, scraping at the pants like he was trying to...well, trying to scrape off paint, that is, if it had been old paint on a wall. The shirt he had dumped into the washer and turned it on to fill. I called my office and told them I'd be delayed a couple hours.
When he put the rest of my clothes in the washer and added detergent and closed the lid, he turned to me. "Okay, you get to stand there naked until this is done."
"Yeah." I grumped. "Don't you have any clothes I could wear for a while?"
"This is a jobsite, not a clothing store." he said. "At least, not yet."
"So I have to stand here with my dong hanging out until it's done?" I complained.
"No." the guy said and paused just long enough to catch me looking hopeful. "You can go stand outside with your dong hanging out if you want to." He walked over to me.
"I'll stay here." I decided.
"Good choice." the guy grinned at me meanly. His look went down to my cock again and this time he didn't flinch when he looked up again briefly, realized I had spotted him doing it. Instead, he grinned again.
"Enjoying the show?" I asked him, attempting to embarrass him away from me.
His response was to reach out and grab my dong. Just grab hold of it.
"Guh!" was my response.
He began to yank on my pud, pumping it flaccid as it was. "Figured you'd like something to do while you wait." he said.
"Well....uh!" I grunted. My prick had begun to inflate.
"Looking nice." He commented. "You got a good piece of meat here, don't you?"
"Uh! Yeah!" I said. "God!"
He grinned at me in an easy style. "Feeling better about getting paint splattered on you?"
"I think I can manage to forgive you." I smirked back at you. "Assuming you aren't stopping at just yanking my dick, that is."
"You mean, you're waiting for me to do something like, say, this?" He said and dropped to his knees with a motion that said to me he'd had plenty of practice. He had my prick shoved between his lips before two heartbeats had passed since his landing, and his mouth was wet and waiting for me once my dong was in there.
"Uh! Guh!" was what I said as he began to suck on my cock. Long, warm, liquid motions, he was taking the main length of my pud with every stroke, pulling out to where the flare of my glans was the only thing keeping my dong within his lips, and then down to where his nose was tickled by my pubic hairs (and tickled me in turn), and I felt his tongue dancing on the underneath of my prick, a lavish, lascivious licking motion that was driving me mad! I threw my head back with my eyes closed and moaned, and my hands reached down blindly, my fingers wove into the careless mat of hair upon his head and I began to thrust myself at his face in time with his own motions upon my prick.
I was supposed to be at work. Turning on my computer, looking over my In Box, checking my telephone for messages! Instead, thanks to a careless paintbrush overhead at the wrong moment, I was in a trailer behind a building being painted, stark naked except for a pair of dress socks, being sucked on by a guy wearing paint-splattered clothes. There was the sounds of morning traffic, faint but present, as others wended their way on to work. There was overlaying that the sound of the washer churning my clothes about, hopefully washing away the paint. And there was louder still the slurping sounds as this guy (I didn't even know his name!) gave me the best blow-job I'd had in a hell of a long time!
I was deep in my rapture when the door opened behind me. It wasn't loud, the first real notice I had that we were no longer alone came when I heard the voice right behind me. "Well, Jerry, you got yourself another one."
I yawped (an open-mouthed but not very loud sound, that's about what it sounds like, "Yawp!") and turned my head. The guy standing in the doorway was wearing white shirt and pants like my brown-haired boss-cum-cocksucker (Jerry, I now knew his name at least), but he was blond-haired, the hair making a broad helmet upon his head, paired with a mustache several shades darker, not blacker, but redder, and a stubble that said he hadn't shaved this morning, and maybe not yesterday morning either. His eyes were blue, his grin was kind and his body was more compact and more muscular than his boss'.
"How'd you get him completely naked?" the guy wanted to know.
"Glmph-humph-humph!" Jerry said to me, looking up.
I took that meant I was supposed to answer for him, he was busy right now. "I got splattered by someone while walking under the scaffolding." I said. "My clothes are in the washer now."
"So you're left naked and available." the guy appraised the situation.
"Yeah, pretty much." I gave a sheepish sort of smile. "Wasn't expecting this, but hell, I'm not complaining."
"Me, either." the guy came over and one beefy hand of his clamped onto my ass. "Nice set of buns you got here."
I felt a stickiness. "Did you just get paint on my butt?" I grunted.
"A little." the guy said and slapped my ass. "Not much."
"Shit." I grumped.
"Let me make it up to you."
"How?" I wanted to know. I mean, I was getting blown already. What else was there.
I heard the rasp of a zipper. Oh!
"You plan to fuck me?"
Slap! went his hand on my ass. "Yep."
I heard the sound of him hawking spit on his palm, p-tuh!
"You're only going to use spit on it?" I said. "Don't you have any lube?"
"I wasn't expecting to get to fuck a cute ass this morning." the guy said. "Sorry!" But he sure didn't sound sorry.
I felt the sticky glans pressing between my buttocks. For better or worse, I was about to get fucked.
Think about it. I was naked and my clothes were still in the wash cycle. I could pull away from here, ending a fabulous blow-job (distracted from it right as I was, still pretty damned good), fetch my clothes, wring them out maybe, put them on soaking wet, and plunge out the door. The alternative was to go for the natural look, as it were, stark naked on a busy city street.
The other choice was to get my ass fucked by a rather handsome blond hunk who was even now pushing his cockhead up to my sphincter. I made my choice fairly quickly, as you can imagine.
Jesus, this guy was big! I felt the fat dong shove into my sphincter and wondered what the hell I'd gotten myself into! Then he shoved again and it popped in and suddenly I was grateful for what I had! Nothing like a nice, fat dick in your ass to give you a positive outlook on your entire day, you know?
So he shoved into me and his boss slurped my rod and I was the happy meat in the middle of a stud sandwich. Paint-smeared hands caught hold of my hips and held me steady while that thick tool went in deeper and deeper. I grunted, shivered, and my orgasm picked that joyful moment to lock onto my brain and begin to worry it with hotly electric zaps of ecstasy to my senses.
"Ah-hah!" I groaned. "Ah-hah, ah-hah, ah-hah!"
"Yeah, stud, take it, take it!" the blond-haired guy said and began to hunch at my ass. This rammed me down Jerry's throat better than my hands could have worked it. Jerry was sucking on me hard even so, and I groaned some more and then my cock erupted, jetting my jizz into his throat. Jerry slurped noisily on my pud as I squirted, I could hear the sounds of him gulping me down. I closed my eyes as my orgasm mauled my mind, and I sagged over Jerry, wrapped my stomach over his head, exposing my buttocks as I held onto Jerry's body weakly to keep from falling over.
Done, panting hard, I was being rocked by the blond-haired stud while Jerry siphoned the last of my juices out. Then Jerry wriggled out from under me, I fell forward to grasp the edge of the desk, and now it was just me and the blond-haired guy, being butt-rammed by his horny paint-splattered stud.
"You got him nice and hot, boss." he said to Jerry.
"He's all yours now, Chad." Jerry said to the blond guy. "You keep him entertained for me while I check on the work, okay?"
"Sure, boss!" Chad panted as he thrust at me. "I think he'll be occupied for a while here."
"Don't fuck around too long." Jerry chided him as he opened the door again. "I need you out on the job."
Chad was one horny fucker, he slammed at me like that for a while, then he coaxed me down onto my hands and knees and resumed his thrusts. That was how I was when the door opened yet again.
"You in here, Chad, I...oh, hell!"
A Latino guy was in the doorway, staring at me being fucked by his blond-haired co-worker. He didn't stand speechless and motionless for long. "I thought Jerry came out of here grinning a bit too wide."
I recognized this guy, he had been the one who had dripped on me to begin with. It was his fault I was standing here naked in this trailer while my clothes had only reached spin-dry. And after that, would come the drying cycle. Not to mention me working a couple hours overtime tonight to make up the time. A law office isn't like other jobs, the work is there and has to be done, if it's two a.m., you still have to be there and do it, courts set deadlines and your life takes a backseat to that time clock they impose.
"It's your fault I'm in here." I griped at him. I had trouble focusing on him as I was being rocked back and forth by Chad's cock in my ass.
"You don't seem to be having so bad a time." the guy said. "Chad's keeping you company."
"You want him when I'm done, Pablo?" Chad asked him.
"Don't mind if I do." Pablo answered.
"Hey!" I protested. "Don't I get to choose who fucks me here?"
"Nope." was Chad's blunt answer. "You keep us happy, or you can just leave right now." The washer gave a be-e-e-e-e-e-ep!" sound. "Pablo, put his clothes in the dryer. A few more moments and I'll blast a load into him, you can use it for your lube."
"Shit!" I said in wonder. I'd come in here because I'd gotten paint splattered on my clothes, and now I was the hands-around whore at a gang-bang. Well, a line-bang, I wasn't being ganged-up on exactly. They were taking turns.
To prove me wrong, another Latino guy popped his head in. "Is this where we got the naked guy?" he asked.
"Come on in." Pablo offered. "We'll team up on him."
Shit! But I only thought that.
Chad finished with me in a few more minutes as he had said, while Pablo waited impatiently. His huge cock throbbed inside my bowels as Chad roared out his climax, and then Pablo and Lorenzo (they'd talked to each other while Chad was finishing with me) took over. Pablo stuck his dick into me as offered by Chad, and Lorenzo was kind enough to move into a sixty-nine position to suck me while I sucked on him. I found my cock mostly revived, and while I didn't manage to climax before Pablo finished up and Lorenzo took his place behind me, I squirted a second load into the next guy in line who sixty-nined with me when Lorenzo stopped. This last one, a thinnish sort of white guy, had come in while I was being crammed at both ends and started a line that began to reach back for two or three guys. How many men were working this site, anyhow? Pablo decided to squirt onto my body instead of inside me and that set the mode, Lorenzo did the same and so did all the other guys.
By the time my clothes were dry (and the paint was totally gone from my pants and only made a slight lightening of tone on my shirt), I'd been fucked five times and sucked three others off. I had come drying on my back, my butt, my legs and my balls, I had jizz on my face where the last guy I'd sucked decided to christen me that way. I had clean clothes but a come-splattered body.
Jerry was back with me when my clothes were going back on me. He just grinned at my disheveled state of sweat and jizz.
"Hell of a note." I said. "I came back here to get some paint splatter out of my clothes. Instead, I end up splattered worse than before."
"Sorry about that." Jerry said. "You come here after work and we'll see what we can do to make it up to you."
"What do you have in mind?" I asked suspiciously.
Jerry just grinned. "How'd you like to take the entire crew on at one time? We'll surround you and give you a splattering that will make this look like a kiss on the cheek by your mother."
"Hmph." I said. "Okay, you got a deal. "I'll be here at six o'clock sharp."
I went out the door and on to my office. Before I could meet with the client due at eleven o'clock, I'd have to hit the bathroom and wash the splatter off my face!
THE END
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E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM