Stockroom Secrets Chapter 9 by Mark Peters
Stockroom Secrets
by
Mark 'Ponyboy' Peters
Chapter Nine
My Thursday at work dragged on, but I was pleased when I was finally able to sign off and head for my car. A couple of things had happened with Hoppy which, while they weren't serious, had gotten me thinking.
Firstly, I gave in and brought Hoppy up to speed with some of the more intimate details of my motel room escapade last Friday night, only because he had been so inquisitive and kept drilling me for details. After seeing him rub his jeans a few times as I was telling my tale, however, I could see that it was more than just being inquisitive, the bastard was getting downright horny. At least I got a chuckle out of that.
The other thing that happened was that by the end of the day he was also up to speed with all the rumours that were floating around about me, taking great delight in feeding them back to me as the day progressed, with our fellow staff members apparently happy to share them with him as he delivered stock around the store throughout the day.
"Did you hear about Grayson?"
"They tell me Grayson is a fag. Has he hit on you yet?"
"Did you know Gray sucks cock?"
'If only they knew the truth,' Hoppy laughed as he was feeding all this back to me.
I could have been totally pissed off about him doing that, but it wasn't his fault that everyone seemed to be talking about me. In fact, some of the stories were even kind of funny and had me wishing that the night had been half that good.
As we were leaving he asked if I wanted to go to the local pub for a beer with him, but I politely declined. Apart from the fact that it had been a long day and I was looking forward to getting home and trying to unwind, I didn't want to run the risk of running into Tom Goodwin or any of his pals in a situation I couldn't escape from. I felt certain that given the chance, and an audience, he would escalate his taunting.
It proved to be a quiet night at home. When we were alone in the kitchen before dinner Mum asked me how my day had been and I told her about my meeting with our Personnel Manager that morning. Mum seemed thrilled by the possibility of the traineeship and quickly came to me, wrapping me up in a hug that almost suffocated me. The news was also mentioned over dinner with a predictable response coming from my father about me having responsibilities and earning my keep and not being a burden on my family.
The lecture was lengthy. Jesus, didn't he know I've been working for this company after school, through school holidays and on weekends for years now, earning my own money and paying my way?
As I went to bed that night his words were still ringing in my ears and try as I might I was having trouble shaking them, at least until I started going back over the events of the day in my head. Hoppy's retelling of his encounters throughout the day managed to change my mood, but then the vision of Rafael de Silva popped into my head, removing his helmet and shaking out his collar-length hair, then my following him across the roof-top carpark and studying the way he moved, how he filled out his work pants and most importantly, how damned hot he looked.
In the darkness, as I relived each step he took, I soon found my hand reaching down under the sheets, finding myself as hard as a rock, which was an occurrence that had been quite rare these past few days. Taking hold of myself I began stroking, then with my other hand I reached down and began fondling my balls, pulling them out and away from my body, stretching my scrotum, squeezing them. Pre-cum began leaking from the head of my cock, which I spread around the tip using my thumb. That always drove me wild.
I could feel the pressure begin to build, but I wanted to make this last longer, so I backed off and took it easy for a little while, trying other options such as tweaking my nipples or running my fingers along my crack, then gently teasing my hole, before starting to stroke myself again.
By edging myself like this a few times I could feel my heart rate rising and my breath growing ragged. I knew I wouldn't be able to hold out for long at this rate, so the next time I felt the stirrings from deep within my body I knew I would need to unload.
I gave myself three or four short strokes, with my hand wrapped tightly around my shaft, then took hold of my balls once more and gave them a squeeze. I then repeated this sequence a few more times, each time adding a couple of strokes. My body was tingling. My balls were throbbing and felt like they had grown to the size of tennis balls. They were crying out to be emptied.
I kept stroking, and I knew that I wasn't going to stop this time. I wanted to cum. I needed to cum. And a few moments later that was exactly what I did.
I heard the first shot hit the headboard behind me, then the next shot landed high on my chest, then several on my stomach, until the last of it came dribbling out over my hand. When my cock finally stopped convulsing I lay back, panting . . . totally spent.
Man, I needed that.
* * * * *
I noticed that Rafael's motor bike was already there when I arrived on Friday morning, so I was disappointed that I didn't get to follow him in this time.
My disappointment didn't last all day however, as later that morning when I was taking my tea break in the staff room, Rafael slipped into the seat opposite. Apart from his having taken a leading role in my late-night fantasy I figured that sooner or later it was inevitable that he would appear, given that he was the other person who had witnessed my confrontation with Mike. I had been wondering when he might be going to take his turn to have a pot shot at me.
For a few moments we just looked at each other, before he eventually asked, 'Are you okay?'
'What's it to you?'
'Ummm . . . well, after hearing you and Mike arguing the other day, and then all the rumours that have followed . . .'
'Fuck. So now you want to have a go too, do you?'
'What? No! I was just worried, that's all . . . but if you don't want anyone to care, then fuck you too!'
He started to get up to leave but I quickly reached out and touched his arm while looking up at him. I didn't want him to go. I needed someone to understand, and if he was offering support then why shouldn't I accept?
'I'm sorry,' I said to him as he sat back down. 'That was rude of me.'
'Damn straight,' he replied. 'But I don't really blame you. You've probably had a rough week.'
'That's one way of putting it,' I replied.
For a few moments he sat there studying me, as if he were trying to make up his mind about saying something more. I could almost hear the cogs turning in his head.
'I need to ask you something,' he said.
'No, I'm not going to suck your cock for you,' I said quietly, deciding to get in early.
'What the?' he squeaked, his eyes almost bulging, before his face broke out in a grin, which matched mine.
'Sorry. I just thought I had better get in early and try to lighten the mood,' I said.
He laughed.
'Well, at least you're not letting it get to you too much.'
'It's been a struggle.'
'I bet.'
Surprisingly, I think that this was the longest conversation that I'd ever had with him. As I've said before, I didn't know him that well.
'You said you were going to ask me something?' I urged.
For a few moments he just looked at his hands, before finally quietly saying, 'It's about . . . about last Friday night.'
I knew that whatever he wanted would most likely be about exactly that, but still a chill went straight down my spine.
'What about it?' I asked flatly.
'Goodwin said that he saw you with Mike and some other guy at the pub. Was it . . .'
'Mike calls him Animal,' I interjected.
Rafael slumped back in his chair. 'I thought it might have been,' he said. 'He's a truck driver, right?'
'Yeah. Why? Do you know him or something?' I enquired.
He didn't answer straight away. Instead he glanced around to see if there was anyone nearby. Once again, I could almost hear those cogs turning.
Eventually he leaned forward, and in a whisper said, 'I don't want to talk about it here. How about we meet after work? Meet me at your car when you leave work this afternoon, okay?'
And then, without even waiting for a reply, he was gone.
* * * * *
The rest of the day was quite busy and after my chat with Rafael I seemed to have spent most of it with my mood hovering somewhere between curious and anxious. He obviously knew something about the activities of Mike and Animal, which only served to get my mind racing. Did he know someone else who might have been involved with them in some way? Had he himself been a part of their games? Or had he just heard stories of what they got up to?
This was going to be interesting.
I kept my encounter with Rafael to myself, deciding that until I had actually spoken with him and found out exactly what it was that he wanted to share with me, there was no point in pre-empting that. As the hours ticked by I was growing more and more intrigued and at closing time I almost bolted for the car to wait for him, just in case I missed him altogether.
It didn't take long before I noticed him appear, arriving at the car park with a couple of other people that we both worked with, chatting with them, and laughing. When they headed for their vehicles I saw him stop and look around, so I opened my car door and stood up, waving to him. He spotted me immediately and trotted over, climbing into the passenger seat as I got back behind the wheel.
'Sorry to keep you,' he said.
'It's all good.'
We watched as a few cars peeled out and the car park thinned out, before I turned to him and asked, 'So, what's up?'
'Why did you go with them?' he asked me.
That wasn't quite what I had expected.
'Why do you think?'
'Are you really gay, like everyone is saying?'
'Would it bother you if I was?'
'No. Not at all.'
'Okay. So why do you think I went with them?'
'Well, I guess it's obvious, hey.'
'Yeah, I guess so.'
We sat for a few moments while he nervously chewed on a fingernail. Maybe this was going to take longer than I originally thought?
That was when I remembered the text message I had received. I pulled my phone from my pocket and quickly found the message, then hit the Reply button. I typed in ??? and hit send. A second later I heard a ping.
He looked at me sharply.
'Rafael, did you send me this?' I asked, while holding my screen out for him.
He looked at the screen, then back at my face.
'You can just call me Raffa. Everyone else does. And yeah, it was me. I saw you at the pub last week with them. Then when I heard the stories going around about what happened I started feeling guilty.'
'What do you have to be guilty about? What do you know about them?'
After looking at me for what seemed to be a long time he eventually said, 'Let's just say I was luckier than you.'
* * * * *
It took me a little while, but I eventually coaxed the full story out of Raffa, which proved to be remarkably similar to my own, unsurprisingly.
He admitted to me that he liked to fool around with guys sometimes, even if he wouldn't actually say the other G word. I had no problems with that, to each his own as far as I'm concerned, but I did have to admit that it felt good to know that I wasn't alone. He said that one day, about a year ago, he had bumped into Mike at one of the local parks. The actual word he used was beats, so of course I had to get him to explain that for me. Seemed I was learning more and more about this whole gay thing every day.
After that initial meeting they hooked up a couple of times, but nothing too serious. Then one night at the pub Mike had introduced him to Animal and they all ended up back at the motel. Luckily for Raffa, however, when things got too hot and heavy and they ignored his pleas to stop, he was still mindful enough to recognise the danger and was able to get the hell out of there.
Later, at work, Mike had laughed it off, but after seeing me with them and then hearing the stories that were spread afterward, he said he was feeling guilty that he didn't say something to someone earlier.
When he finished, I could see that his hands were shaking, after reliving that whole experience. I quickly reached out and placed a hand on his.
'Mate, you have nothing to feel guilty about,' I said.
'But I could have said something . . .'
'To who? It’s just like Mike said to me, we both knew exactly what we were going with them for.'
'Well, I've said something now,' he said, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
'What do you mean?' I asked.
I could see him flicking through his messages and before long he held up the screen for me and showed me a message he had sent to Mike.
<I said NO. Gray said NO. What would the cops say to that?>
To be continued . . .
Authors Note:
Hi there. It has been a while since I have posted anything new on Nifty. I guess life gets in the way sometimes.
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