Organization: St. Dismas Infirmary for the Incurably Informed
ICE CREAM MAN
By WRITER MAN 2537
I had just graduated from high school, and didn't have a clue as to what I wanted to, as my mother put it, "do with myself." I knew I wanted out from my parent's roof, if for no other reason, it'd be nice to have some place to bring the guys I hoped to be meeting before long.
I then found the bad part about moving out; you have to GET A JOB! With a mediocre high school record and no skills, I ended up with the same sort of job I could have gotten during summer--I got a job at an ice cream shop.
"Taylor's Ice Cream Shoppe" was a pretentious looking place, with wrought-iron tables and chairs (which were a bitch to clean, as I soon found out) painted white, pink curlicue decor, and, well, a very pastel sort of place, if you know what I mean.
I spent my first shift working under my boss' eye on the day shift, learning the job, you know, how to fix the various fancy orders which no one ever ordered (we had a book, which I planned to keep nearby just in case), and how to mop floors, which mother had taught me long before.
"Good enough." the boss decided. "Now let's get you a uniform."
You should have seen the damned thing! White, all of it. White shoes, white pants with a crease, white soft shirt with a frigging white bowtie! And a stupid cap to wear. I looked like a frigging milk man! But the boss guy himself wore it, and I admit it looked nice and clean. I dressed myself in it, admired myself in the mirror, and sighed.
I'm not the sort of guy you'd look at twice in the street. Reddish-brown hair, freckles that were beginning to fade, thank God, greenish-blue eyes, a body that was too slender to quite work with muscles. I was working out, but my body didn't show it. I looked to be about fifteen, I sighed. I was still carded at the liquor store, even though 18 was the legal drinking age in my state. Back then, anyway.
I walked out for the boss' inspection, and got a nod. "You don't mind pulling a double shift, do you, kid?" he asked. "You're going to be working swing shift regular, so no reason why you can't get started on it tonight if you're up to it."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." I said. I needed the money. My apartment, brand-new, was still half bare, and I had yet to get a car of my own.
"Here comes Dan now." the boss said, as a white-dressed figure entered the front door.
I turned, and nearly swooned. "Dan" was about twenty- five, black shiny hair under the cap, skin the color of sweet milk, eyes like blue diamonds under a square-cut face. His body wasn't a bodybuilders, but he filled out the shirt nicely, with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and well-formed hips. I was starting to like this job, already!
"Hi, boss. Out in a minute." Dan said, passing us by, heading back to the men's room.
"He always starts his day there." the boss sighed. "He'll be out in a minute or two."
And he was, looking fresher somehow, his eyes shining and cheeks the palest rose. "Okay, who's the new guy?" he asked, his eyes running up and down my frame.
I threw a boner right then, under this guy's gaze, tenting out my pants embarassingly. But his eyes locked on the bulge, met my eyes, and he smiled shyly, nodded.
"What's your name, kid?" he asked.
I told him my name was Mike and mentioned I was almost nineteen, and he grinned widely, grasped my hand, shook it, and squeezed it! I squeezed back, trying to show I was interested. Hell, I didn't know how to approach another guy, not back then, but when you get a squeeze like that, you don't need a diagram drawn for you.
We settled in for work, behind the narrow counter, me darting out to clean when needed, but mostly staying back there, looking for chances to squeeze past him (and there were plenty of chances) to let my cock brush his tight melon- halves-like asscheeks. He would wiggle as I hesitated there, gaining courage with every pass, wiggle his asscheeks against my cock, definitely feeling my boner in my trousers as a stiff arc there on his soft posterior.
Then the rush crowd started, kids from school, at three- thirty, and they didn't let up! For well over an hour, Mike and I were too busy dishing up scoops and making ice cream floats to flirt with each other.
At about five o'clock, when I was wondering how much more I could take, Dan said, "Mike, I gotta go. Back in a couple of minutes." And he left me with that crowd.
I dished madly, as a busload pulled up, out of town kids here for a school game or something. Finally, I was getting way behind. "Pardon me, folks, I gotta go get some help." I said, and dashed back for the bathroom.
The place didn't have a lock, I'd discovered earlier that day, but it didn't matter, since it was for employees only, and back behind a corner. I rounded the corner, threw open the door...
And there was Dan, facing the sink (which was just to the left of the door), his hard-on in his hand, flogging it away.
A beautiful cock! Nine inches, easy, with bulging blue veins blending into the greyish-brown foreskin, the head bright red with blood as he pounded it, muffling a groan, his face flushed, and I knew I had opened the door just as he was about to shoot a load.
I was practically a virgin (pre-adolescent exploration doesn't count, does it?), and I can't believe I did what I did, which was to kneel down in front of Dan, him struggling to keep his feet as his orgasm assaulted him, grabbed his cock from his flailing hand and aimed it at my white-covered chest.
"Shoot it on me, man." I said.
He didn't have a choice, he had held back as long as he could. He blasted a huge load onto my chest, saturating my shirt, huge patches of sticky wetness on my hairless chest, the white shirt becoming transparent with wide wiggly patches that outlined one of my nipples.
Dan grabbed my head, to keep from fainting, I think, and I leaned forward when his moans quieted, lapped the last squiggle of come from his cockhead, cleaning it off, tasting the salty sperm and roiling it on my tongue. That done, I took the cockhead in my mouth briefly, intimately, and then stood up. "We got customers, Dan."
"I know." Dan said. He grabbed a swatch of paper towels and sponged at my chest, removing most of the moisture. "Let's get back to work, Mike."
And he went back out, his face with the rosy glow and eyes shining. Just like when he'd come in to work.
We didn't have time to do anything but dish for a while, and I had time to think while I scooped. How could Mike have just a huge load so quickly? Had he come when he went into the bathroom that first time, me and the boss outside waiting for him? If so, my God, I thought I was horny.
I finished with the customers waiting for service, gave my cock a quick rub. Dan was washing out ice cream dishes, and I brushed past him again, my cock rock-hard, screaming for mercy. "I gotta go to the jakes." I said.
Dan looked at my crotch with its white tent, grinned. "Hurry up with it." He said.
I went back, stood where Dan had stood, seeing white splotches on the floor (invisible unless you knew where to look) where his come had landed after splashing off of me. I took out my modest seven-incher (I felt small after seeing Dan's) and stroked it, remembering the comeload he had shot on me, touched the spots now stiff on my chest, and my strokes speeded up. I had to come quickly, like Dan had, get it over with.
And the door opened, Dan walked in, said, "We'll have to be quick." and knelt down in front of me, took my cock into his warm, wet mouth.
Dan was experienced, no doubt about it. I had never had my cock sucked before. I was eighteen, with its attendant horniness, being sucked by a man who knew how to suck cock. I moaned a warning, Dan tightened his lips and speeded up, and I blasted a load down his hot throat, hanging onto his ears for leverage while I shot it deep into him.
Dan stood up when I was done, wiped his lips with the back of his hand, and said, "Customers are waiting." He said.
And I went back to the ever-present crowd.
About eight o'clock, it thinned out to something easier to handle, and Dan handled them while I mopped and scrubbed floors and chairs (that wrought iron is damned hard to clean. If you buy a restaurant, go with plastic!). We finished our jobs just at ten o'clock, closing time.
Dan lowered the blinds and dimmed the lights. "Let's go take a leak, then go home." he said.
I grinned, watching his bobbing butt as I followed him to the bathroom.
ICE CREAM MAN
By WRITER MAN 2537
PART TWO
Back to the bathroom, scene of God-knew-how-many times Dan had jerked his pud there, he led the way and as we turned that corner, were out of sight from the front windows, turned and grabbed me, forcing me against the wall, kissed me hard.
I was clumsy as a puppy, and just as eager. I kissed Dan and felt his tongue enter my mouth, startled at first. I hadn't done that much kissing on those dates with girls I couldn't avoid, but I had heard about "French kissing" and so I accepted his tongue as he slid it across my teeth, the tip begging entrance deeper; I opened my mouth and it jabbed in to brush my tongue, a wonderfully talented tongue that tasted every part of my mouth.
I hesitantly inserted my tongue into his cheeks, and he sucked it in, hard, yanking it by the roots he sucked so hard.
I got my hands under his shirt, to snake them up his back, feeling the tickle of the scattered hairs there, feeling the rippling of muscles as he embraced me.
He thrust his cock up against mine, and I felt the swatch of hot male organ underneath the thin material of his pants (no underwear, I had learned quickly that day. I had on briefs, but I swore never to again. He rubbed against me, hot and urgent, and he kept his lips locked onto mine, his arms holding me tightly against him, and I was out of control, he was so hot, so urgent, so insistent was his rubbing of his cock on mine.
I felt my orgasm approaching, so quickly, so soon! I had never been held like this before, in the arms of a passionate, hungry man like this, and I was overloading from the lust that washed over me, lust he was feeding on, and I grunted, struggled to escape, to cool it down before I came on myself like that puppy I mentioned earlier.
But he wouldn't let go, his hips thrust his cock against mine, rubbing mine relentlessly, and he groaned, and I felt my come rushing out of my balls in a flood, and I struggled, trying to get loose, trying to stop it before I...
I groaned into his mouth, trying to breathe, trying to get loose, as my come shot into my briefs, soaking the white material, blowing and heaving, sucking air from him (my only source, the way he held me, my nose wasn't big enough!), feeling his chest collapse as I inhaled, inflate as I exhaled, and he clutched my asscheeks one in each hand, releasing my mouth and I looked down to see my come actually shooting through the layers of material, small, hesitant spurts that escaped somehow to soak his pants, to touch his cock, barely visible on the wet material.
And he groaned loudly, "Oh, God, Mike, I'm coming too, man! Uh, uh, UUUUH!" and he shot his wad, his cock freer than mine, with less material blocking it, and the sprays burst through, freely flying onto me, Dan's face flushing bright, bright red as his come flew, We soaked each other with our come, feeling the sticky wads all over us, both of us wet and sticky on the crotch, blatant advertising that we had shot our loads without even getting unzipped.
Dan clutched at me for support, kissed me while our chests were still heaving for breath, kissing me gently, lovingly, possessively, as if I belonged to him now, totally. I kissed him back as well as I could, because I wanted to belong to this horny stud, match him come for come, for the rest of my life.
Please don't think I was falling just for sex, though it was the first real sex I'd ever had. We had talked all that time we were dishing ice cream, ever since he had shot his load on my chest, learning about each other, what we liked, what we wanted in life, what we enjoyed. We were right for each other, even if sex hadn't popped into the picture so quickly, sex was just the sweet icing on the cake.
Dan kissed me some more, both of us taking our time, and he said, "Damn, Mike, that was terrific!"
I grinned at him, a silly smirk. "Aren't we supposed to take our clothes off, first?"
He laughed easily. "Yeah, I think so, but that wasn't half bad. I've never rubbed off like that before, and it was kinda fun."
I looked at my watch. "Ye, Gods, I gotta hurry or I'll miss my bus."
"I'll drive you home." Dan said. "I gotta car." I grabbed my other uniform (the boss gave me two) and street clothes from my locker (a cubbyhole, really, open to the air, but mine) and we went out the back way to his car, an old '62 Chevy, from the look of it. I didn't care, I was enjoying the pure joy of riding with a man I'd made love to, even in that strange way, sort of feeling out this new relationship I'd stumbled across. I'd always pictured it as being tougher than that, especially back in those days, pre-Stonewall, but Dan and I had found each other as easy as pie.
I guided him to my place, and he followed me to the door, and once inside, the lights on in my basement apartment, and he grabbed me again.
Now, I was as horny as the next guy, but this was too much! I kissed as well as I could, feeling his boner stabbing at me, but my own cock was limp as spaghetti, and he could feel that, slowed down, breathing hard as he said, "Can we do it again? The right way, this time?"
I swallowed hard. "I don't know how. And how can you be ready again so soon?"
Dan sighed a heavy sigh. "It's just the way I am. I get so damned horny all the time, night and day. I jerk off every hour on the hour, and I come like gangbusters every time. I try to hold out, especially at work, but I still just can't. I was hoping you, well, that you and I could...."
"Are you serious?" I was dumbfounded at this. But he was sincere enough. We stripped out of our clothes (dried sperm is awfully sticky, it was like peeling off glue from my cock), and Dan lay back on the bed, his erection pointing at my cracked ceiling with bare rafters and boards, and I hesitantly licked at the pud, tasting his come still clinging to the cockhead, enjoying the taste of spent come. Dan guided me all the way through it, carefully instructing me on how to suck his cock. I lapped and kissed and sucked as he told me too, and in ten minutes or so, he was groaning and spasming again.
I had missed the last two loads, but this one was mine! I grabbed his cockhead, and thrust it down my throat as far as it would go, and he shot his wad, this time where it belonged, inside of me.
After that, I was content to crawl up and lie beside my horny man, and we slept like that for a time, me lying on one of his arms, the other one across my chest, and we napped like that, me awakening a few hours later, to feel his kisses insistent upon me, his hardon stabbing my inner thigh as he clambered on top of me.
I wasn't that worn-out, especially with a new lover in my bed, he felt my boner on his stomach and kissed his way down my chest and stomach, slowly, tantalizingly (God, the feel of his chest hairs tickling my cock as he wove his meandering way down!), until soon he lapped at my rod, getting it good and wet, poised himself on top of it, lips touching the tip, and he thrust my cock down his throat, first time, all the way to my balls!
He deep-throated me like that, long but quick strokes from the tip to the base, and I loved it! "Oh, God, Dan, let me suck yours, too." And he obliged, twisting around to let me take his cock once again, and we sucked like that, a "sixty-nine" he called it, and I loved it at once, the feel of a man's cock in my mouth while his warm, massaging lips slurp on mine. Dan beat me to the draw, shooting his load while I was still building up the passion, but I kept slurping on his spent rod, and as my lust grabbed hold of me, damned if his cock didn't get hard again! I slurped on it fast and furious, a hint for him to do that for me, and as I shot my come down his throat, I felt his fly into me!
You see, Dan wasn't kidding about being that horny. We became full-time lovers that night (Dan couldn't settle for anything less, you see), and I learned soon that Dan needed relief at least ten times a day! No kidding! Serious! Every other hour around the clock! I had thought four or five to be too much, and here I was, expected to satisfy a stud that never seemed to get enough!
Dan the next night taught me how to take his cock up my ass, and took his time (for Dan, that is), and by early dawn he had my virgin asshole stretched out enough, his prong buried inside of me, fucking me hard. I learned how much fun it is to get fucked, and returned the favor afterwards, next time I could manage a hard-on. It took me nearly an hour of fucking his butt to come, and Dan shot three wads before I could finish him up.
At work, too, we grabbed every opportunity when the store was empty to run to the back (there was a bell on the front door, thank God) and he would unzip his pants, take out his cock, and I would slurp on it hard and fast, get him off before we had to return to the customers.
That was a rough time in my life, young as I was. It was all settled the day Dan won the lottery, two million dollars. Placed properly, it brought in enough money to let us stay home full time, and that's what we did, sending out for groceries, sending out for anything we needed, spending our days in bed, humping away at each other.
That was twenty years ago, nearly. Dan is over forty, now, and I'm in my thirties. And while his rampant hormones have slowed somewhat, I still have to stay home most of the time, but now I can run out for groceries, or if I work him extra hard, a movie, before I must return to my man, satisfy him again.
And as I type this, Dan has walked up, is standing just behind me, his cock snaking over my bare shoulder (I have to stay naked for him), heading for my mouth. It's time for his blow-job.
I have to get back to my life's-work, folks. Bye for now!
THE END
God is a magician, Reality His trick, and it's all done with mirrors.