Smog Inspection Surprise

I don't know what it is about me and cars, but I seem to have my hottest sex escapades while I am involved maintaining cars. I already wrote about one such experience in "Marine and the Car Wash", so you already know about me. This is another true story, but took place out of town. I was in a small southern city, having visited grandma, and I never expected to have such fun during my visit. One of the taking care of grandma chores I did was get her car registered and inspected, which could be done at one of those quick oil change chains. So, I took grammy's car (a 20 yr old Buick with 30K miles on it)to the station and started the process. I told the reception guy it was grammy's and I needed to get it to squeak past inspection without having to put a lot of money in it. I handed him the keys, and headed for the lounge to read my book.

Then I saw HIM. The Manager of the shop. About average height, short brown hair that was almost a buzz cut, maybe 30 years old, wearing the dark blue uniform of the chain and a big fat gold wedding ring on his finger. He had one of those naturally thick chunky bodies that made him look smaller and more compact than he was. Yes, he had a bit of a paunch, but it only made him sexier to me: it kind of highlighted what must be hanging, well-concealed behind those baggy shop trousers. He was butch as hell and I wanted him. Skipping my book, I stayed in the shop area and watched him work. He was pretty rough on his crew, all in all, a pretty surly bastard I thought.

When the car was done, he headed into the office to settle the bill. Instantly he was a different person. He could not have been nicer to me. His pale blue eyes were perfectly complemented by his navy blue uniform, turning them from washed-out nothing to shining bright pools of sky blue. They were balanced perfectly in his basketball shaped face, set off by a handsome smile of surprisingly straight white teeth. He may have been a prick, but god he was hot!. As we settled the bill, he said it passed everything, even the smog check, but that it did need new wiper blades. If I promised him I would head down to Wal Mart and put on a new set, he would go ahead and pass the car. I thought, "What do you know, he does have a heart."

I could not resist commenting on the change, "What's with you? Out there you were a surly SOB to your crew, but in here you could not be more gentlemanly." (They love that term in the south.) "What's the matter? Not getting any release from your wife at home?" He blinked at me - shocked. Such topics, let alone such forwardness are not common in the bible belt. "I don't know what it is about women," I continued. "They cut us off, won't give us relief, and then when we get cranky cause we got blue balls, they take that as an attack of some kind, and use that to continue to deny us release because we're bad mannered. A man can't win."

He sheepishly replied, "You got that right." Oh yeah, I had an opening, even if he did not know it yet.

"And what can we do?" I continued.

"Nothing sir. I guess that's how God wants it," he replied. Chinos, a golf shirt and the look of an education still gets you old time respect in the south, and oh brother, I WAS in the south.

"Well, I don't know about the Lord, but.. (I pretended to stammer). "I.. I.. have a buddy in California, and he and I give each other some release when our wives cut us off for too long," doing my best to blush a little as I mumbled that out. (I am not married, but look like a straight, soccer-dad type, and I knew I'd never have a chance with him if he thought I was gay).

"Hey wait a minute, I don't go for that shit!!" he spat out, glaring at me with hostile eyes. No more "sir" for me. "Sorry if I gave you the wrong idea," I piped up cutting him off. "But I was not expecting YOU to do anything. I was just offering you some relief cause I can see you really need it, and I understand what it's like for a man to suffer. So, if you felt my mouth could help you out I was only offering to let you lay back and let me be a buddy to you privately in the way two men understand." He relaxed a little and his face softened somewhat, but he still scowled.

“Tell you what,� I said. “What time does this shop close?� He told me. I made an elaborate show of looking at my watch, and thinking out my errands. “Well, I still have to get to the Motor Vehicle office to get the new plates, and then I have to get those new wiper blades. I think I can stop back 10 or 15 minutes after you close and show you I got the new wipers, and prove I am a man of my word.� There was a hard silence between us, and he finally said, “Don’t count on anything happening if you come back. I might not be here… unless closing out the day’s paperwork takes me longer than usual.� Bingo.

Ten minutes after closing time, I wheeled the Buick into the shop’s driveway. The place was deserted and all the bay doors shut tight. Probably the first time in quite a while his crew had been sent home early and fast. Undaunted, I knocked on the side door and peered in. Happily, I saw him strut out the office door and head toward me. As soon as he opened the door, I pushed my way in, and headed into the office. I stood there waiting for him to face me. He stood looking at me, hands on his hips, his body planted like an alert bulldog. His face was wearing a mixture of hostility, disgust and unconcealed desire. No, not desire, hunger. “Why don’t you sit back in your chair,� I suggested, trying to break the tension.

He took a seat in an ancient hardwood desk chair and leaned back a bit. “I ain’t doing anything to you!� he spat. My response was to kneel down and begin to lightly rub my fingers over his meaty thighs. As I worked my way around, I began to focus on his groin, slipping my fingers into the crevices, and starting to rub my thumbs over the mound of his crotch. Sure enough, I could feel his cock, lightly stirred but definitely not at rest. I began to trace the outline of his cock with my thumbs for a while, and then asked him to help me out here buy loosening his pants. He opened his belt, and barely slipped down his pants. Just enough to expose is his cock, and tuck his underwear under his balls, with the elastic forcing them up into a tightly squeezed bag. I gazed at the manhood. A nice 7 inch cock, beautifully cut and not too thick, but topped with a mushroom head that tapered nicely. Just the shape that would fit down my throat just right. He was not shaved or trimmed of course, but his sac was nearly hairless, just a few stray hairs that were almost invisible. I picked up his cock with my left hand, and began kissing the head, moving my lips and kisses all over the top and sides of the shaft, but avoiding the tender underside. He was moaning softly, but his now fully hard prick told me all I needed to know. I moved under the perfectly shaped head and gently kissed the underside at it most sensitive spot. I gave a couple of kisses and two quick, little licks on that tender area. But I moved down to his beautiful, average size balls straining their holding bag like a drum’s head. I worked like mad on those orbs of his, licking each one, slathering them in spit, sucking them gently into my mouth to tease them with my soft, warm tongue. His throbbing pole was now dripping precum onto my hand. “My peter… my peter. Suck my peter,� he gasped.

I dove on his throbbing, leaking cock, taking it all the way to the root. I bobbed off and on its full, turgid length, making sure my liquid-velvet tongue slipped up and down the shaft from head to base with each stroke. I am an excellent cocksucker, and I was giving it my all. “Oh Jesus, oh sweet Jesus , “ was all he could muster. He needed to cum bad, and my mouth and tongue were making him crazy. He was going to shoot soon if I did not stop. I pulled off and told him to let me at his peter. He sprang from his chair and instantly his trousers and boxers were at his ankles. He leaned back in his chair, spread his knees as wide as he could and hunched his smooth hips forward to give me good access. My own dick was an iron rod in my pants, but all I could do was dive back on that beautiful, glistening meat between his thighs. I could see it throbbing before my eyes. The boxers he wore had indeed kept his heavy balls swinging loose and free. I was almost insane with desire for his manhood I started bobbing like mad on his cock, sucking it for all I was worth, burying it in my throat and milking the head like a starving animal. Too soon, he was on the verge, so I pulled off and stood up.

I loosened my belt, dropped my chinos and Ralph Lauren boxers to my knees, and started pulling on my own cock furiously. “What ya doing?� he blurted out, eyeing me stroking my cock suspiciously. “It hurts – I can’t stand it,� I gasped, never slowing my stroking while precum oozed out of my piss slit, covering my flying fingers. Feeling better, I kneeled down and returned to his flesh-covered iron pipe. I kept bobbing, jamming it deep into my throat with each stroke, helped by a little thrust of his hips each time I slipped my mouth down to his root. His big paws encircled the back of my head and he began grunting and moaning, in almost in loving tones. He was not holding my head, or using his hands to force himself deeper into my mouth, rather he was gently rubbing my skull, slipping his fingers through my soft, wavy, business-man length salt and pepper hair. I glanced up quickly, and found him staring at my head and mouth devouring his tasty, engorged meat. “Oh yeah. Oh yeah. Sweet Jesus, suck my peter…please suck my peter. You’re my buddy, DAMN you’re my buddy. Sweet Jesus, make my peter feel so good!,� was all he could mumble. As he got closer once again, I switched to licking and running my tongue all over his shaft instead of pulling off entirely. As I nuzzled his dripping prick, I licked up the now continuous flow of his pre cum. I sucked some more, sending him to another place with his ecstasy. I pulled off and began to work once again on his now free and loose orbs. Released from confinement, I could lap and slather them easily, making them bounce in the floppy, loose bag. Tight, rapid moans was all he could utter.

The concrete floor was starting to hurt my knees, and I did not want this to end yet, so I stood up to catch my breath. My six inch cock was so hard it hurt. I let it bob around in front of his face, while I stared down at his crotch. His cockhead was an angry red color, absolutely stiff and so hard it did not even throb. Precum continued to stream out of it, mixing with my saliva to make the whole shaft gleam. That magnificent piece of maleness was poking out from his beautiful, loose ballsac, his balls swollen to a accommodate their building sperm, the skin covering them much darker now, and almost dripping my spit from them. I was hypnotized, I just stared at the site, not able to accept my good fortune was real. I heard a squeak as the old chair moved, and I looked down to see him reach out with his left hand, grasp the base of my cock, and tentatively slip my cockhead past his lips and into his mouth.

I gasped. He tasted a bit, then began to suck on it as a drop of pre cum hit is tongue. He moved forward and took in a third of my shaft. I am standard American issue 6 inches, cut, with a prominent head. I have been told many times I am perfectly endowed for cocksucking and he must have found it so, too. He took almost all of me into his mouth. He really was a novice, as he was trying to suck and nurse on it (hunting for more precum?) instead of bobbing on it with that in and out stroking men need so much. He knew he should be sucking it in and out, but could not break his need to suckle on it at the same time. My knees were getting rubbery and I could not support myself at this point, so I leaned back against the edge of the desk, my bare ass cheeks molding around the smoothly worn edge. To help him with the motion, I began to gently pump my hips, moving my meat in and out of his mouth with just the right rhythm. He was learning fast, but still trying to both suckle and bob at the same time. I didn’t care. All I could do was gasp and moan, watching him discover cock for the first time. But at one point, his suckling got me and I almost exploded without warning. I pushed his head back, but he did not let go of my cock; just held it, inches from his mouth, starting at my one eye with a little bit of spittle running down his lip.

This had to end soon, and I could not hold my need to suck his cock in check. I dropped to my knees forcing his hand to let go of me. I dove on his dripping meat. It was impossibly hard, his sucking on my boner had made him even more turned on. I impaled my throat around his cock. As I began that oh-so-necessary bobbing, all he could do was say “My buddy. My buddy. That’s so good buddy�. His once loose balls were pulled so tightly into his crotch, my chin was almost bouncing off them now with each stroke. I lost my mind with cocksucking, and in but a second, he threw back his head and bellowed at the ceiling, “DRINK IT!!�

His first shot hit so hard and fast, it went right down my hatch. I never swallowed it, it just slipped right past my throat and ran in a hot, sticky clump down my gullet. He was nowhere near done, and he just kept shooting jet, after jet, after jet of cum for me. I kept every drop. Once his cum stopped spurting, I kept my mouth gently on his pole, every so softly cleaning him and milking up the last bits of cum. I pulled off of him, stood up and started at my handiwork. His “peter� was still hard, and now a large teardrop of cum was forming from the drizzle at the end of his cock.

My own cock was now so stiff, I thought it would split my cock’s skin. I could not help it, I just began pumping with my right hand in desperation. I did not care if I came on the desk, the floor or him, I HAD TO CUM. He quietly said between his rasping breaths, “Now let’s give you some release�. He moved forward and took the head of my straining cock into his mouth. As I continued to pump myself, my fist began smashing into his swollen lips with each stroke. He just moved down on my cock, locking his lips more firmly on the shaft to make sure it never got out of his hungry mouth. I reached around his head and cupped his round skull with my left hand. His bristly short hair prickled my soft palm and fingers. If he wanted my cum, I was going to use my hand on his head to make sure he took it all – whether he panicked mid stream or not. I could not stand it, and my release was going to happen. I warned him that I was going to cum, giving him one last chance to pull off and change his mind. He just tried to get more of my shaft in his mouth, and began…..whimpering! Whimpering like he was begging for my jizz. That put me over the top. I dropped my hand and, as my knees buckled, pulled his head onto my bone with all my strength, shouting my passion into the empty room. He gagged on my first blast that slammed into the back of his throat, but just started swallowing as fast as his throat muscles would work. I pumped and pumped into him. As my blasts of cum were subsiding, I pulled my cock back so I could make sure the last of my cum would drizzle out in a nice, full glob of cream right on the middle of his tongue I wanted to make sure I left my full taste of maleness in his mouth so he would have no doubt about what he had done – and could never forget it. As I finally pulled my spent, shinny cock from his lips, a nice dribble of cum formed on his bottom lip. He now had a choice: spit out that big glob or swallow it, but he had to make a conscious decision. It went right down his throat without hesitation. His swollen tongue came out, and he began licking his lip, hunting for more of my spunk.

The office was silent as a tomb, and as we watched our pricks began to soften the reality of what had just happened was all too clear. Two men naked from the waist down, labored breathing sounds, the heavy scent of male sex hanging like a fog, cum breath scenting each exhale. I knew that this was the point where things could get weird, and I sure did not want him to decide to end our fun by getting his macho on again and smashing my face with his impressive fist.

“Oh wow, buddy. Thanks…. Uh , uh… Thanks very much, I was not expecting…. Uh.. um… I…I mean …you didn’t need to….,� I tried to stammer as if I was suddenly bashful. I don’t know if my Oscar – worthy performance helped, but he just looked at me: softly, almost in wonder.

“Thanks for helping me, sir. “Eye� needed that so much,� he drawled. “Feel much better.�

Reaching down for my pants, I cheerfully said something about having to get going or granny would start to worry about me. Just as I finished buckling my belt, I looked over at him and smiled a bit sheepishly. His trance was broken and he bent down to get his pants. I turned on my heel and strode out of the office. I walked down the shop to the side door. Just as I reached the door, I looked up into the safety mirror. He had followed me out of the office, and was leaning his chunky frame against the wall. He had pulled up his pants, but not hitched them at his waist, leaving his heavy package hanging out between the dark blue flaps of his open pants uniform. He was fondling himself and pulling on his prick as he watched my back moving toward the door. I hesitated for a moment, but then opened the door and strode out to the car. I cranked up the Buick and headed back to grammy’s place.

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