Standard disclaimer notice: if it is illegal for you to read this story, then stop. If depictions of consenual male-male sex make you uncomfortable, stop reading (though you probably wouldn't be reading through this part of the archive if that were the case.)
Public sex, while often very erotic, is also dangerous and illegal - I do not condone it (but I don't condemn it! I'm no hypocrite.)
As before, the story below is mostly true. Some bits have been added to enhance and excite the senses. I will let you, dear reader, separate truth from fantasy.
How To Succeed In Retail (Without Really Trying), Part 2
I said before that I had worked at Wal-Mart for a little over five years as a third shift stock person. In reality, I was a bit of an every man – a jack of all trades, working on whatever inane task my bosses needed done on any given night, usually in additional to my regular workload. It was tiring and thankless, but I am a team player and hate leaving work unfinished when I can prevent it. Five years of unrelenting bullshit, though, would be enough to send almost anyone over the edge.
It was in this dejected state that myself and two of my coworkers found ourselves at a nearby bar and grill on our lunch break. We had come here before, many nights, to enjoy our hour-long respite from the monotony of our job. This time was different, and my female coworker promptly ordered a shot of Tequila Rose the moment we sat down.
"Keep them coming," she told the bartender as we waited on our food.
"Bad night?" I asked her. While the place was a bar and grill, we had never actually ordered drinks while on lunch.
"Yeah. I'm just sick of all the bullshit."
My other, male, coworker and I looked at each other and nodded our agreement. We both ordered drinks as well; he ordered vodka and Red Bull, while I ordered a scotch on the rocks. As our hour wound down, we had each had about five drinks, every glass making the next one seem less of a bad idea. While we were not drunk when we headed back to work, we were definitely in lighter spirits.
So it was that we went back to work. A couple of hours passed, and the liquor had started to burn its way through my veins. While I was still able to work, it became progressively harder to focus on the job. As our final break rolled around, I went to go find my coworkers. I found my lady friend working her aisle, looking very determined and focused – she was making a very deliberate effort not to show the effects the drinks had. She waved me off and I took it to mean she wanted to keep working, which was probably not a bad idea. I went to find my male coworker and, to my surprise, did not find him in his department, or in the break room, or anywhere in the store. In fact, as I asked some of my other coworkers, nobody had seen him. One person finally mentioned they had seen him heading outside a few minutes before.
I wandered out to the parking lot, assuming he had gone to get some fresh air and clear his head. I was half right. I found him in his car, with the door open and himself leaning back in the driver's seat. The mess outside the car made it pretty clear he was having some trouble holding his liquor and our lunch. I grabbed a bottle of water from my own nearby car and handed it to him.
"Looks like you could use this," I said. He took the bottle and offered a lopsided, clearly drunken grin.
"Thanks," he replied, and took a few small, slow drinks from the water.
I took the time to check him out. I had worked with him for a few years by this point, and we had several mutual friends with whom we regularly hung out. He was Republican, straight and had a bit of a white-knight complex when it came to women. He knew I was gay and it had never really been an issue between us. I had never really flirted with him; he was straight, after all.
Now, though, with the scotch quietly suppressing my better judgment, I was really appreciating his looks. He was very much a boy next door – about six foot, mostly slender but with a little baby fat around the middle. Blonde hair and blue eyes, and a rather cute face. In the jeans he was wearing, I could see a bit of his cock's outline – it looked to be of decent size, and semi-hard. I don't remember how I ended up kneeling down next to the car (still managing to avoid the mess), but the next thing I recall is caressing his hair and looking him in the eyes.
"You okay?" I asked. I traced the outline of his jaw with my finger, and he let me.
"Yeah, just.. needed some air.." he said, closing his eyes and leaning back against his seat.
My other hand was very suddenly between his legs, massaging his dick through his jeans. I felt him hardening in my grip, and leaned into the car, pressing my lips against his. He opened his eyes and looked at me as I kissed him.
"S..sorry," I said, pulling away from him. "I don't know what that was.." My hand, of course, continued to caress his cock.
"Felt like a kiss," he answered. "A pretty good one, too."
"Oh yeah?" I asked, grinning a little. "Maybe I should do it again?" I went for his lips, and he reached up quickly, grabbing the back of my head and pulling my mouth against his. His tongue pushed its way past my lips, meeting with mine. I kept rubbing his hardness through his jeans as he forced his tongue deeper into my mouth. He finally pulled his head away, and moved my hand from his crotch. My disappointment must have shown, because he just laughed and said "Get in." I heard the passenger door unlock, and I quickly went around the car and got in as instructed. He closed his door and started the car.
"Where are we going?" I asked, a little worriedly. Neither of us were in any real condition to drive anywhere, and we were only on a 15 minute break.
"Just somewhere a little more secluded," he said, and drove us around the back of the building. He turned the car off and we sat in silence for a moment. I looked over at him. With another grin, he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, then leaned his entire seat back. "You want this cock? Go for it, man." He put his hands behind his head and I immediately leaned across the center console, grabbing for his cock. He was wearing light blue boxers, and I could see his dick straining against them, a little wet spot of precum forming on the cloth.
I fished it out of the fly of his boxers, and looked at his cock in the dim, back lot lighting. It was about seven inches long, and just thick enough that my hand wrapped snugly around it. I stroked it gently for a moment, then moved my head down to wrap my lips around it. The musk was pleasant, the smell of a dick that has been recently washed but has had a few hours to stew in work sweat. I swallowed him to the base in one go, then moved my mouth up slowly, savoring the taste of him. I hadn't realized I wanted him until this moment, and I was going to enjoy it.
He was enjoying it as well, by the long moan that he let out. "Oh my god," he sighed. "That's so good, Shaun. Not sure why I never let you do this before." I felt him move, and he placed a hand on the back of my head, pushing me down onto his rod again. He ran his fingers through my hair, murmuring happily as I swallowed his dick. "Fuck yes," he muttered as I pulled his balls out through the front of his boxers and rolled them around in my hand. "Play with those nuts.. I fucking love that."
I continued bobbing up and down on his cock for several minutes, and he began thrusting his hips to meet my mouth. I gagged a little as he pushed my head all the way down and thrust his hips all the way up. "Choke on my goddamn dick, faggot," he ordered, and I had little choice but to comply, my throat convulsing around his member. "SHIT!" he yelled, and bucked himself wildly into my throat, making me tear up. Suddenly he grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled me off his dick, leaving it shining and slick with my spit.
"I don't wanna cum yet," he said. "Put your seat back. It's your turn."
I looked at him in surprise, but obeyed, as my own cock was near bursting for release from my khakis. I reached down to unbutton my pants, but he swatted my hands away. "My job," is all he said, and undid the button. He slowly slid my zipper down, and I whined a little at the delay. He laughed quietly, and I raised my hips to let him slide my pants down. My dick immediately sprung free, as I was (and still am) a fan of 'going commando.'
"Damn," he said. "Looks like you're pretty excited here." He leaned down and took my balls into his mouth first, sucking gently on them. My cock was oozing precum and was standing tall, begging for attention. I whimpered with need and anticipation, and he pulled off of my nuts. "Alright, I won't tease you any more," he said and deftly swallowed my erect dick in one go. I moaned loudly with arousal and surprise – for a straight boy, he had absolutely no issues taking my dick whole. I'm no slouch in the cock department myself, about six and a half inches, and very thick around. He was sucking it like a pro, bobbing up and down, swirling his tongue around the head.
I put a hand on the back of his head, much as he had done to me, but only caressed his blonde hair as he worked on my rod. I spread my legs a little, as best I could with my pants now at my ankles, and sighed happily. Then I gasped as I felt a finger gently prying at my ass. "Unnnh," was all I managed as he finally slipped his finger into my hole, the sweat from our bodies making me wet.
"Yeah, you like that?" he asked, pulling off my dick for a moment and sliding his finger in and out.
"God yes," I moaned. "I love it."
"Good," he said, and resumed sucking my dick. A second finger joined the first, and then a third, each slowly stretching my hole a bit wider. With some effort, I managed to kick my shoes off and free my legs from my pants, letting my legs spread a bit wider. "Fuck yeah, spread those legs for me," he said. He stopped sucking on me, and just focused on working my hole with his fingers.
Finally, he pulled his fingers out. I groaned at the sudden emptiness, and looked at him questioningly. He said nothing, just kicked off his own shoes and pulled his pants and boxers off. His dick was still hard, and still wet with sweat and saliva.
He climbed across the seat and laid his body on top of me. "Put your feet up against the windshield," he ordered. "Spread as wide as you can. I'm going to fuck you," he said directly. He leaned down and kissed me hard, and now I could feel that the liquor had really taken over, his mouth tasting of vodka. He grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled back hard, forcing me to look up. His next words were growled, punctuated by him kissing, licking and biting my neck in turn. "I'm going to fuck your faggot hole." Kiss. "And I'm not wearing a rubber." Lick. "You're going to beg for my cum." Bite. "I'm gonna give it to you." Kiss. "Gonna shoot my load right up your hole." Kiss. "You'll fucking love it." Bite.
I could only moan my agreement, and I worked my legs up onto the dashboard, my feet pressed against the glass of the windshield. I felt the head of his dick pressing at my ass, his precum adding lube to the sweat that had given his fingers access to my insides. He wrapped one hand roughly around my throat and squeezed, covering my mouth with his other hand, and I felt his dick ram into my hole with one hard thrust. I screamed against his hand, which muffled the sound. My eyes teared up.
"I'm sorry, Shaun.. I just really need this. I need it so bad," he explained, and began driving his cock into my ass, thrusting his hips. He uncovered my mouth and replaced his hand with his lips, his tongue again forcing its way through to mine. Despite the sudden pain of his entry and the rough pounding his was giving me, I met his tongue and we kissed hard, fiercely, as he continued to force himself in and out of me.
"Tony!" I shouted, when he finally removed his lips from mine. "Fuck me, baby. Please fuck me.. I want this so much. I need it as bad as you do!"
"Fuck yeah, I can tell. Don't know why we never did this before," he grunted, continuing to assert his dominance as he plowed into me. "This bitch hole needs my dick, needs a man's cock to fill it."
He fucked me like that for quite awhile, and we had long since lost track of the time. I could feel the car bouncing under the force of our sex. I remember being amazed that I wasn't breaking his windshield, as my feet were still pressed against it as he used my ass for his needs.
I felt the change in the rhythm of his thrusts and heard his breathing become more ragged. I knew he was getting close, and he pressed his lips against my neck again. "Fuck yes, Shaun.."
"Give it to me, Tony.. please, Tony! I want you to cum inside me. I want to feel your seed in my ass. Let it go, baby.. let it go!"
"Shit! Fuck! FUCK!" he shouted, and shoved himself into me, and I could feel his balls and pubic hair pressing against my ass. A split second later, I felt his dick twitching as his nuts emptied themselves into me. "Fucking take my cum, fag! Take that load, Shaun! I'm breeding your fucking cunt, you little bitch!" We stayed that way for about 20 seconds, his cock pulsing inside me as he filled me with more and more of his cream.
He finally collapsed on top of me, our bodies and shirts drenched in sweat. We laid there for a few moments, as our breathing got under control. He finally and slowly pulled his softening dick from my hole, and I felt a little of his impressive load leaking onto the seat. He looked down at me and grinned. "Looks like you shot, too." I looked down and realized that he was right, that the bottom part of my shirt was covered in cum. I hadn't even felt my own orgasm under the rough fucking he had given me.
"Looks like," I agreed. "That was the best. Sex. Ever." I added.
"Yeah, well... I needed to get off, man. And I appreciate you helping me out." I noticed the subtle change in his tone, the guilt and worry growing. "I mean, I've never.. I don't think we should.."
"It was a one time thing, Tony. I get it. We're both drunk, probably won't even remember this in the morning. It's cool, we don't have to ever mention it again."
"Thanks," he said, and I could tell he felt a little ashamed at what he was saying.
"We should probably get back to w..." I stopped mid-sentence, and we looked at each other with the same Oh Shit expression. "What time is it?" I asked slowly.
"Uh... fuck," he answered, and climbed into the driver's seat, turning the key to check the time.
6 a.m.
We had gone to break at 4:45.
We both quickly threw on our clothes, and he drove us back to the main lot. We tried to make ourselves a little more presentable, though it was rather hard when we both now smelled of liquor, sweat and cum. We walked back toward the building, and met our manager about halfway to the door.
"So. There you guys are," he said, managing to both scowl and grin at the same time. "You know you've been gone for over and hour." It wasn't a question. "And a lot of people know you're both pretty well toasted since lunch." Also not a question. "And that there is a camera in the back lot."
Tony and I looked at each other, and both tried to stammer a reasonable line of bullshit. Our manager held up a hand.
"Save it. I've taken care of the footage, I like you guys both too much for that to be a problem. And if it were up to me, I'd let you both off with a warning and a smack on the head because you should know better. Unfortunately, it's not up to me, and the store manager already knows you both took over an hour on your break and are drunk on the job. No, I didn't tell him. No, I can't tell you who did. We're going to talk about it today and figure out what we're going to do. Right now, both of you go home. If you're not okay to drive, I'll call you a cab."
We both stood there in silence, the consequences sinking in. This was bad. Not as bad as it could be; our manager obviously knew the whole truth, but wasn't going to say anything. But we weren't getting off totally free, either. The shock and fear had sobered us both up pretty quickly, and we both murmured that we were okay to drive. Our boss looked at us carefully, and shrugged.
"Yeah, you both seem alright. Go home. Get some sleep. Come back tonight, we'll talk then." With that, he went back inside, leaving Tony and I looking a little distraught.
"This is bad, isn't it?" he asked.
"It may not be. Our boss is a good guy. He'll do what he can. No sense worrying about it now..."
"Yeah, I guess you're right. We should probably go home."
"You can come to my place, if you want," I teased, trying to lighten the mood.
"No, I.. I gotta get home. We can't.. I mean, it was different and I was curious, and..."
"I know, man. It's alright. Don't sweat it, we can just pretend it never happened."
"Yeah. Yeah, we can," he said, though he sounded unsure.
We went our separate ways then, and both made it home without incident. We went back to work the following night, and much to our sadness (though not surprise), we were both let go. Our boss assured us that we were only being let go due to the 'stolen time' of our break, since we were technically being paid for our time spent fucking in the back lot. "Technically," he said, "you're both eligible for rehire in 6 months. And you'll both get a good reference from me."
We both nodded and accepted our consequence without argument. As we walked out together, Tony gave me a look and said "I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For getting us both canned."
"We're both adults, Tony. We made a bad judgment call. Okay, more than one. Honestly, though, I don't regret it. Not one bit."
"Yeah," he said, nodding. "Neither do I."
Tony and I have not seen each other for awhile, and never talked about what happened between us that night. It's still a good memory to remember when I need to jerk off, though. And now the story is shared. Hopefully you've enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed the experience.
I hope you enjoyed the tale. Once again, parts of this story are entirely true. Some are creative license. Which is which? I'll never tell. Comments, critiques, etc can all be sent to dream.quiet@yahoo.com.