Disclaimer: This is an Adam's Gay Reader pulp story (#233) written by Michael Scott. There is no copyright on it, so I wanted to share it with others before it gets lost forever. This story includes sex between adult males. If this is unappealing or illegal in your location, please do not read this story.
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Chapter 4: Open-Butt Welding
Reluctantly, Stewart and Hugh got up, showered, and dressed. After they left the room and stood waiting for the elevator, they suddenly lost control of themselves and both men began feeling up each other's crotch and ass--right there in the corridor.
Hugh was immediately so turned on again that he wanted to drag Stewart back inside the room, tear off his clothes, and lick and suck every part of his naked body, but especially his asshole and cock; but he restrained himself when the elevator came, and--laughing like a couple of horny schoolboys--the two butch numbers went down to the Hilton's dining room for a huge breakfast.
While they ate, Stewart pointed out that he didn't have to report to his new job assignment in Fairbanks until the following day, so they could spend another night together if Hugh wanted to.
"I'd like that, man," Hugh admitted frankly. "It's not often that I meet a guy I feel as sexually compatible with as you. In fact, I'm getting horny all over again, just looking at you. I'd like nothing better than to strip you naked and fuck you right now, right here in this goddamn dining room. Fucking Christ--my dick's getting so hot and hard, it's all I can do to keep from shooting off in my pants!"
Stewart giggled at the other guy's lewdness. "We can always go back upstairs after we're done eating. The maid ought to have had a chance to put new sheets on the bed by now."
"I'd love to, but I've got to check in with the Anchorage local of my union and take my welding test this afternoon," Hugh explained, "and I'm already starting to get a little nervous about it. Oh, I know I'm a good welder, but some of the best guys in the trade are up here in Alaska now, and I've heard that a lot of applicants have been failing the test."
He showed Stewart his membership book in the pipefitters' union, explaining that the book was his passport to working on the Pipeline; assuming Hugh passed the test and got the job, he would be required to carry his hook with him at all tunes, exactly as if he were a foreigner, and present it on demand to the job steward or to any fellow member of the union, to show that his dues were paid up and that he was a bona fide member.
"My speciality is 'open-butt' welding," Hugh explained--which sent Stewart into convulsions of laughter. "Oh, fuck you," the welder said good-humoredly. "Seriously, it's tough work--a lot of guys may be good welders for ordinary jobs, but are flunking this test. And if you do make it, once you get out in the field they X-ray everything you do."
He told Stewart that the test involved welding a variety of different sizes and grades of pipe from difficult positions, using a variety of welding electrodes. Once completed, the three sample welds comprising the test were inspected and graded.
"There's a visual check, of course. Then a one-hundred-per-cent X-ray. Finally, they cut six sections out of each pipe you've done and bend them, twist them, and nick them to see how your welds stand up to stress. If I pass all that, my friend, then I'm not just another welder--I'm an Alaskan Pipeline welder."
"Yeah, a breed apart," Stewart agreed salaciously. "Well, they ought to save themselves all that trouble and just check my mouth, dick, and asshole to see how well I've stood up to all the stress you put on me last night and this morning. I would think all that hot sex we just had would've relaxed you for the exam."
"It did, but if I start thinking about it, I'm sunk. It's tough to weld with a hard-on!"
After breakfast, they agreed that Hugh would keep his things in Stewart's hotel room and that they'd spend the night together again, no matter what. Before Hugh left the hotel, Stewart lured him into the men's room off the lobby.
"If you pass the test, we'll go out and celebrate tonight," Stewart whispered into Hugh's ear as he embraced inside the john, in front of the row of sinks. "If you don't, I'll make you feel better about washing out. So, either way, you can't lose."
He stood in front of Hugh, spreading his legs and thrusting his crotch up so that Hugh could put both hands on his bulge. Hugh ached to unzip the other guy's jeans, reach in and pull out that long, hard prick he'd already made love to so memorably, and play with it and suck it off right there in the men's room.
And, the way Stewart was smiling at him and standing there humping his crotch against Hugh's hands while he kissed him long and hard on the mouth, the welder knew Stewart wanted him, too.
Still kissing Stewart, thrusting his tongue deep inside his mouth. Hugh finally gave in to his lust and unzipped Stewart's jeans and drew out that exciting thick, hard cock and began massaging it.
With one hand he reached down to his own fly, unzipped it, took out his own stiff piece of meat and pressed it against Stewart's warm hand, which closed around it possessively and began to masturbate him slowly and teasingly.
Groaning against his fuck buddy's mouth, Hugh shoved his dick back and forth inside Stewart's loose fist, and with his own hands, he pulled and stretched Stewart's prick, smoothing the skin back hard from the head, then pushing the skin forward again until it sheathed the bulb at the end of that incredibly arousing fuck tool.
Hugh could feel his own cock tensing and could feel Stewart's cock pulsating hotly in his hands. Neither guy wanted to come just then, though, and Stewart finally broke their kiss and moaned against Hugh's face softly, "Oh, Jesus, Hugh--I want you again so had it hurts! But let's save it for tonight, man, huh? When we can do it right--in bed--naked--do everything--okay?"
"Yeah!" Hugh brushed his lips over the stubbled cheek next to his, gave Stewart's cock one last pull, then reluctantly let him go. The two men shoved their erections back inside their pants, pushing and squeezing and jostling to get the rigid tools down into a comfortable position.
"We don't want to make a public spectacle of ourselves and risk turning any of the innocent, straight natives on, do we?" Hugh asked, laughing. Stewart hugged him tightly, pressing his crotch hard against them, just before the two of them left the men's room and went their separate ways.
The test lab was a remodeled truck garage, with no fewer than sixteen test booths in its main area, each equipped with its own work table, test stand, and welding cable. From each booth the welding cable snaked upwards on a column, overhead to the door of the garage and then to its source, a generator driven by a gas engine.
There were several of these engines out in the yard, all clattering and growling and sending up a thick haze of smoke and fumes. Inside, the test booths were shielded by canvas curtains, and rather resembled large voting booths; at least the ordeal was private. Upon his arrival, Hugh's confidence wasn't bolstered by the sight of a blond, bearded giant, easily six and a half feet tall, dejectedly gathering his things together and preparing to leave.
Cursing under his breath, the big man told anybody who cared to listen that his weld hadn't been all that bad, but he had undercut the "root"--the portion of the weld that protrudes inside the pipe--and in trying to repair this defect he had only made it worse. Having flunked the test, he would catch the next flight home.
"Fuck it," Hugh muttered, as he signed in, found an empty booth and an inspector to monitor him, and got down to work, figuring he had nothing to lose and a hell of a lot to gain.
There was so much almost palpable tension and anxiety in the test lab that it took a real act of will power to get going; but once he'd taken the plunge, he experienced a tremendous sense of relief as the task at hand focused his concentration to the exclusion of everything else.
When he struck his first arc his heart was thudding in his chest, he felt light-headed, and there were knots in his stomach, and--yes!--he was starting to spring a hard-on; but the latter, at least, suddenly felt reassuring, not at all distracting, and he wielded the welding rod as though it were a mere extension of his gloved hand.
For the next couple of hours, he worked virtually nonstop, his confidence growing as he realized that he was doing well. The greenish puddle of melting metal at the tip of his rod shimmered in the filter glass of his welding hood, thousands of degrees hot, only inches away from his sweating face, as Hugh coaxed it to flow smoothly and evenly into the contours of the joint.
He felt his prick throb as though in empathy with the welding rod he was manipulating. Hugh grinned as he remembered when he was first learning to weld, years before, and a fellow apprentice had turned to him and gasped, with his face shining with sweat, "Goddamn it, man, I'd rather burn these rods than fuck."
Hugh wouldn't go quite so far as to agree with that (and he'd quickly changed that young number's mind, come to think of it!); but Stewart had been right--all that wild fucking and sucking they'd done had certainly relaxed him. Thank God they'd met last night!
He passed, and in fact the inspectors complimented him on the extraordinary tightness and neatness of his welds. He couldn't stop grinning and swaggering as he traded bullshit with some of the other successful candidates. They were now members of the elite group, in a position to look down on all other welders as mere laborers and mechanics.
Stewart, who said he had spent most of the day on the phone with his home office, was ecstatic when Hugh showed him his test papers, which had been photographically reduced to microfilm size and contained in a laminated plastic card, much like a driver's license, with the magic words `Pipeline Service Company, Welder's Certificate,' followed by a string of incomprehensible specification numbers.
They found a gay bar and had a few drinks, cruising and being cruised quite brazenly, then gorged themselves on a huge steak dinner at the oil company's expense.
By the time they staggered back to the hotel, well after dark, both men were feeling horny and completely uninhibited, looking forward to another frenzied sex session in the freshly-made bed.
Check out my other posts!
"The Man with the Jeep" in the camping section
Other transcribed stories:
"The Battlefield" in the Historical section "My Favorite Freshman" in the College section