Soaked by 'tehl00zur@hotmail.com'
This story is a work of fiction. Any similarities between characters or events in this story and real people or events is purely coincidental.
I had a third cup of coffee. Far too much for me - I was sure I would regret it later - but I couldn't say no to the guy waiting tables. He went to the one other table in the restaurant still occupied to ask if they wanted more coffee, and I couldn't stop myself enjoying the view. He turned to go back to where he was wrapping silverware and once again looked my way. I looked up to his face and smiled at him.
Until about an hour ago, the vacation hadn't been that exciting. The mountain air and scenery were everything you could want, but the amount of driving involved had got my blood pressure up. The first hot springs was plenty scenic, but not nearly as hot as I had recalled, and the other one was hardly any better, plus sulfur-scented. I'd decided to call an early end to the vacation and head home that morning.
But then I got to the restaurant. It was one of the best reviewed in the area, and even though it was a little out of my way, I had decided to give it a try. Lucky thing, because in addition to good food and good coffee, they employed one of the most gorgeous guys I've ever seen. His sparkling blue-green eyes looked equally ready to crinkle in laughter or stare soulfully into your own. His round cheeks had just a hint of rosy brightness to them that excellently offset his smooth, perfect skin. His short, dark blond hair looked soft as silk, but his most remarkable feature, and the one to which my eyes were drawn as if magnetically, were his full, soft, kissable red lips. I couldn't stop imagining my tongue sliding between them.
And that added an extra layer of confusion to the matter. As much as I was staring like a fourteen-year-old at a porn convention, he didn't seem alarmed, or put off. I'd have expected him to take it badly, whatever team he bats for. I'm not what you'd call a looker. My strong jaw and broad shoulders are fine, and I lift weights so I've got some muscle, but my flinty gray eyes aren't usually described as 'inviting' and I have gained a little weight as I've gone into my early thirties. I couldn't imagine why this breathtaking young man somewhere in his late teens or early twenties would be interested.
But I had to try. I've always been terrible at flirting or picking up signals, and if I knew one thing, it was that I'd never forgive myself if I got in the car and drove off without seeing if anything might happen here.
Halfway through my fourth cup of coffee (god help me), he looked up from his pile of neatly folded silverware straight at me - of course I was looking at him, I couldn't take my eyes off him - and asked, presumably directed at someone in the kitchen, if he could go on break. The muffled answer must have been a yes, because he put down the last set of silverware and headed out the door. I hesitated a moment - was I really going to try this? - but then got up and followed.
He was in the parking lot, leaning against the wall of the restaurant, twirling a car key around his index finger and staring off down the valley. He looked over after a moment. I started to say something, but only got as far as, "Hi, I'm-" before he put up a hand to stop me, then to motion me to follow him. Swallowing nervously, I followed him to his car, got in when he unlocked it, buckled up. He looked me up and down while starting the car, then smiled at me. His smile was as brilliant as I had imagined. I felt a warm flush run through my body and wash away the anxiousness.
We drove in silence halfway across town before pulling into an alley a minute and a half later. (It was a small town.) He drove about halfway down and then pulled into a parking area. He shut off the car and got out, and I followed suit. He opened the garage door next to us manually, with a key, and then closed it again behind me once we were inside. Then he stopped and looked up at me, half-smiling, shyly.
"We're doing this, huh?" he asked, a little nervously.
I smiled. I guess there wasn't a lot of opportunity for him in this small mountain town. The thought that I could be his first sped my heart up. "Only if you want to."
He stepped up next to me. "Oh, I do." Those hypnotic lips.
I couldn't wait any longer. I pressed my body against his, wrapped my arms around him, and kissed him hard. His lips were softer than I could have imagined, and parting them with my tongue sent an electric current through me. His hands came to rest against the small of my back, then pressed into me, pushing me against him. I was rapidly becoming as hard as I've ever been, and I could feel that he was, too. I slid my hands down his sides to the untucked bottom of his buttoned shirt, and then slid them back up against his skin. He shivered, then lifted the back of my yellow t-shirt and slid his hands inside the waistband of my jeans, gripping the elastic of my orange Mack Weldon briefs.
I stroked his back down to waist-level, then around to his navel. He was soft and just lightly padded, just the way I liked it. I began fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, but he took his hands out of my pants, grabbed my shirt, and pulled it quickly up over my head, forcing my arms up. Then he grabbed the back of his own collar and pulled his shirt off over his head. His smooth body and hard brown nipples were as beautiful as his face, and the downy ring of hair around his navel turned into a trail that I immediately followed to the button on his black jeans. Now on my knees. I unbuttoned and unzipped them, and his white FTL briefs only made me hungrier, so I tugged the jeans down to his waist and pulled his briefs to the side.
I gently extracted five and a half inches of astonishingly thick, rock-hard, uncut beauty. His clear precum was overflowing his foreskin, leaving a trail of it stuck to his underpants. I wrapped my hand around the velvety skin, squeezed gently, and began to slide back and forth. Looking up, his face was scrunched into an expression I recognized, and he was panting hard. I didn't have time to react before he moaned, "Oh nnn-" and like that, his hot, sticky cum began splashing in my face. I gripped him tightly, not even able to close my hand entirely around his thick, juicy dick, and massaged the rest of his load out onto my face, neck, and chest.
I looked up at him, covered in his fluids, his manliness, and he blushed. He tried to stammer out an apology, but before he could finish a word, I pulled back his foreskin and wrapped my lips around his bright red dick head. The apology turned into a moan of pleasure and I set to work. It was hard to fit him in my mouth, as thick as his shaft was, but I've never gotten a bad review on an oral presentation and I wasn't about to start now. I licked and sucked at his thick, red head, his foreskin, then took him into my mouth all the way to the back of my throat. Reflexively, he bucked his hips, and I encouraged him until he was steadily fucking my mouth.
Soon, his erection was back at full strength and I was nearly gagging. I came off his mouth momentarily and he grabbed me by the armpits, pulled me to my feet. He turned me around to point at a waist-level workbench and shoved me toward it. With that massive, thick piece he was packing, he didn't have to tell me twice. I went to it and he pushed me down onto it while I unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans. He tugged my jeans and orange briefs down, then pulled his halfway down his thighs. At last, my rigid seven and a half inches swung free. I wiped some of his seed off my face and chest, and slathered it on his dick and into my hole. He grabbed his thick, stiff rod, lined it up, hesitated a moment. Then he took a deep breath and pushed it in.
His gasp of pleasure nicely covered my grunt. I'd had ones almost this thick before, but not often. His dick stretched me out in ways I hadn't been sure I could stretch. Then he started to move in me, sending shocks of pleasure and pain down every stretched-taut nerve. Soon he grabbed my hips and pulled me back onto him with every stroke he drove into me. Panting now, gasping for air, at last he reached his peak and spilled into me, shooting a second powerful load into me, which set me off and had me spurting all down the front of the workbench. He collapsed, drained, onto my back, and for a minute we both lay like that, me bent over and him resting on my back, both panting. When he finally got up and slid out of me, we both were drenched in sweat and I was still sticky from his first load.
"Beats the heck out of a sulfurous hot spring," I quipped. He smiled, and tossed me a shop towel.
We both got dressed and headed out of the garage. "Find your way back to the restaurant?" he asked, and I nodded. Then I fished out my wallet and dug out a business card.
"If you're ever downslope, in town..." I trailed off. "Well, if you're ever downslope you can have your choice of men, but if for whatever reason you feel like it..." He nodded.
And, surprisingly, I did hear from him again, after a while. But that's a story for another time.