"The Young Dishwasher, Part One" by Jay Roberts Gay Encounters
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R
I attract attention from some girls, but lots of boys. I've seen a guy walk into a lamp post trying to stare after me. Is it that I'm a model type? No. I am a bed type. I thinks it's my thick red hair, usually mussed up. Maybe it's the blue eyes, my puffy lips, or the slim build. Whatever it is, it sure works. I can take my pick.
I was twenty two years old when this adventure occurred. I was driving back from Cape Cod after staying with my aunt for a week. As I was leaving the cape and onto the main highway when I realized I was hungry. Right ahead was a dinner. It was a bit run down, as was the motel attached to it. The sign said " OTEL." One letter was out. I laughed to myself as I hummed "Oh tell me pretty maiden", as I hauled my stiff legs out of my Mustang coupe.
The were bells above the door and they sounded as I pushed the warped screen door open. The place was old fashioned but clean. Sometimes these forgotten dinners have great food.
There was no one else in there as I took a stool at the counter. I could hear sounds coming through the opening into the kitchen. I also saw a dark head of hair passing back and forth. Finally he stopped and looked through at me.
Wow, just my type. You know the tanned, lithe type. He could be Latino, Arab, even Gypsy. As he looked with his snapping black eyes, his lovely red lips parted in a gleaming smile.
"They are all on break. I can take you order, sir."
This was a proud boy and the "sir" sounded strange for him.
He came out and stood before me, wiping his hands on his apron. He was wearing an athletic shirt, tight and damp from the sink. His pecs were fully displayed. I raked my eyes over his bare arms. The muscle was covered with smooth tan skin and displayed a blue vein0. But it was his fully, round, tan forearms that made my breath catch.
His smile broadened. He knew and I knew that we were on the same wavelength.
"Would you like something?" he asked wetly.
I collected myself, and croaked out, "Two fried eyes, over hard and bacon and coffee."
"I can do that."
He turned letting me see his small tight backside as he returned to the kitchen. As he made my meal he kept glancing through the opening and twice waved and called out, "Ready in a minute."
It was good, to my surprise but he said as he put the plate in front of me, "The eggs come from their own chickens in back." He snapped his fingers, "Coffee coming." He was working at being charming and smiling cutely. I was being subject to foreplay, maybe.
I munched on the toast and the eggs and stuff but almost choked when I found a note on the saucer of the coffee mug. It said: "Room 3 at motel, off work in ten minutes."
I gulped down the coffee as he seemed to have disappeared. I guess he went out the rear door. He was replaced by an old guy.
I left my car in front and walked back to the motel. I wondered if anyone actually stopped here. There was an office with a registration desk. By some strange caution I asked the old lady there if I could check my valuables.
"You need a room?" the old lady clear asked as she put my wallet and gold watch into a brown envelop and tore off the flat as a receipt.
"Maybe later, I'm just visiting someone."
She shrugged.
I crossed the lot and onto the wooden plant walk that ran in front of the rooms. In front of #3 was my dishwasher. He was talking on a cell phone and he seemed to finish his call and put the phone into his back pocket. He face was set into a fierce scowl.
I don't know what this was all about but he looked extra sexy and dominant with that look.
"Step in, get undressed," he said surprisingly and authoritatively.
This was sure going fast but I just wanted to get at him and I was willing to overlook the strangeness of the command...and comply.
I stepped inside. It was simple space with a bed and dresser. The air was warm and musty. If he lived here he sure had little in the way of belongings. There was a razor at the sink and a few clothes thrown in the corner. I saw all this as I took off my shirt and pants and kicked my sandals off. Now I was standing, waiting, in my briefs.
He entered and crossed the room and stood before me. He stared at me.
"You're a wise guy. I don't like wise guys."
I was perplexed. Then his hand whipped out and delivered a teeth rattling slap on my cheek.
"A wise guy, checking his valuables. Well you can get em back when we leave and give them to me."
I stood there, mouth open. What a jerk I was to follow my cock and get into this dangerous situation.
Nothing was happening. He still stood there staring at me.
He cleared his throat. "Long as we're here, you wanta blow me with that pretty mouth?"
I tell you, giving a blow job was the last thing in my mind. I guess I just wanted to get out of this situation whole, with my belongings and get back on the road. But then, he put a warm, strong hand on my bare shoulder and pressed downward.
In a moment I had sunk to my knees on the cracked linoleum. His white cotton work pant crotch was at my face.
"Just pull the waist string and get busy."
One pull opened the knot and the loose pants slid down his strong, fuzzy legs and puddled at his ankles. A flat hairy stomach was revealed, leading down to a luxuriant display of pubic hair. There lay his fat prick, relaxed, and below two large eggs in their sac. His equipment was of a rosy, tawny color that I just loved.
"Get me hard. You know what to do sweetie."
This was some helluva situation. I was getting hard and I wanted that sweet bad boy cock, still I was scared of its owner. But I felt myself slipping in gear, an automatic response of the hungry sucker. He smelt faintly of BO and piss. Pig that I am, I drooled. Out came my disobedient tongue to sample the wares. Very good, the taste went straight to my cock which was wedged against my bent thighs. I opened my fly and extracted it.
Through his now narrowed eyes he saw my move.
"Don't play with yourself until I leave. Work on me only."
Okay, okay, tan Gypsy boy. I pulled in my greedy tongue and allowed his covered cock head to enter my mouth. My lips encircled the head and the foreskin, like a curtain drew back. Above me I heard a long sigh. This was going to be good. I forgot my fear. I love doing it with an appreciate dude
I don't want to heap praise on myself but I have never had a complaint. Each time I did it, I was extravagantly praised by my weak and panting partner. This was going to be at least as good an experience judging from his early response.
I didn't rush. I let his prick harden and elongate in my mouth. I wrapped my arms around his thighs and put my hands on his hard butte cheeks. I felt his body trembling. This was going to be a suck for the ages.
Then the hungry boy put his hand on the back of my head and pushed me forward. No objection here. I let his prick slide along my tongue and gulps and salivated like I would around a pop. He groaned loudly this time and spoke. Oh, wow, I had a talker. They are a rare breed and I love them dearly.
"Oh so good. Don't stop. I'm a slow cummer, I need lots of work on it."
Hah, I heard this one before. They all are vanquished into quivering masses of feeling when I do my thing.
I have always found that my boys cum harder if I vary a hand job with the sucking, otherwise the suck feeling gets dim if over used. Thusly I pulled off the now fully erect cock. It snapped up and landed with a smack against his fuzzy muscled belly.
The owner's eyes snapped open and he looked like he was about to cry.
"Don't worry boy [shit, I didn't even know his name and look at how intimate we are, such is the way of sex.} My mouth will return shortly."
I began briskly wanking him and he closed his eyes again, he knew he was in good hands and was settling down for the slide towards a cum.
When his pretty cock head was blushing red and his piss slit was opening and closing like a kissy mouth I resumed my suck. My mouth was wet with excitement. My own cock was pulsing wildly.
I put one hand on his shaft and my mouth at the top and I coordinating the action.
"Oh shit, I'm getting close. I can't believe it. You're a hot boy."
I kept it up. I could feel the progress as his ass was sweating and he was wailing sweetly. Then the tell tale sign, he knees began to buckle. I supported him and took my wanking hand away and left the rest of the job to my throat.
"I'm on the edge," came the progress report from his war room.
Let it rip! I thought, but didn't interrupt my furious (now) sucking action.
Then he, like so many other boys, began a heavy string of obscenities. Why they do that I don't know. Maybe as their restraints have been breeched everything goes nuts. It's true, some kids piss or shit at that moment.
But not my nameless patient. No he trembled and keened like a wounded animal and then squeezed my poor head like he was making meat loaf and then...
And then he began. Wow, I have received ejaculations too many times to admit but this was monumental. It was thick. It was not spurted, it was continuous. I gulped and gulped as if I was at a park fountain.
His body was in full fuck as he unloaded. I sipped the last of it but he slapped my head and said, "No more, please."
Well, that was polite.
I rose and again realized that I was in a dangerous situation. You know, so of these "straight" boys get grouchy afterward. I wish I could order him to get me off but wisdom overcame lust. I dressed quickly as he sank into a chair, his eyes still glazed and his breath heavy.
I walked fast to the office intending to get my watch and wallet bbut the old gal was not there. I tapped the bell. Oh, a miracle, you appeared through a beaded curtain.
"You want your stuff?"
"Yeah, I got an appointment."
"What kind?"
This was getting nuts. Maybe she was delaying me.
"Dentist."
That seemed to satisfy her and she handed me a stub to sign and then the envelop was in my hot hand.
I walked back to the dinner and entered my car. As I put the key in the ignition, I heard a voice.
End Part One