Date: Sun, 30 Aug 2015 12:27:21 -0400
From: user459@mail.com
Subject: Meg's bike 7

It seems like it's been raining here for weeks.  Every afternoon, it
starts to get dark and I can see lightning and hear the roar of thunder.  Then,
I hear the raindrops; big ones!  They plop and splatter when they hit the
palm fronds and the pavers outside the garage. Then the deluge comes.  I
have to pity anyone caught outside in it, though it is a warm rain.  Still,
who likes to be soaking wet?

I saw the flashes of lightning while seated at my workbench.  I was running
my buffing wheel and polishing up some hardware.  I didn't think much of it
and I do like to watch and listen to a good storm, so I opened the overhead
door.  It had already cooled down significantly, so I didn't have to worry
about the air conditioning.  The rain hadn't started yet, but the sky was
gray, except for the brilliant flashes of lightning.  The thunder claps
were coming fast on their heels, so I knew the storm was close.  The wind
picked up and started whipping the palms around.  I knew we were in for it.

The first drops hit the pavers and my truck in the driveway.  I couldn't
believe how loud they sounded!  They started out slow, and then it seemed
the sky just opened up.  Water was running down the driveway and the wind
was blowing the rain in sheets down the road.  The gutters were full and
running like rivers.

I stood there fascinated for a while.  It was nothing new, but the power of
nature always impresses me.  I caught some movement out of the corner of my
eye.  It's not unusual to see a palm frond blow off during one of these
storms and my mind dismissed it as that.  Then it became clear.  A form was
heading towards me in the rain.  It was a bicycle and rider. Pedaling hell
bent for leather!  The soaked spectacle turned into the driveway and headed
straight for me!  I stepped to the side and the rider guided the bike past
me and brought it to a skidding stop in the middle of the shop floor.  The
only way he could stop was to lay the bike down.  I rushed over to him and
was greeted by the sight of Tyler in a pool of water, entangled with his
bike, laughing hysterically.

"You should have seen the look on your face!" Tyler sputtered.  "It was
priceless!"  I picked up on his infectious laughter and began to see the
humor in it myself.

"You were a sight to see!" I said.  "Still are!  You look like a drowned
rat on a bike!"  I went over and grabbed his arm as he extricated himself
from the metal monster.  When they were both upright and the kickstand was
down on his bike, I surveyed the scene.  Despite the wet clothes and hair,
Tyler seemed to be fine.  I think the slippery water actually helped him
avoid skinning himself on the floor.  His bike seemed OK, too, though
further examination would be necessary to determine that.

"Are you OK?" I asked.  I saw him do a quick inventory.  No cuts, no
scrapes, no bleeding, no broken bones.  He grinned up at me.

"Yup, I'm fine," he said.  "Just a little wet around the edges."

"It looks like more than around the edges," I observed.  "You look like you
are soaked straight through to your skivvies!"

"I guess I would be, if I were wearing any!" he said.  I picked up a towel
from the shelf and threw it to him.

"What's with you kids today?" I asked.  "No one seems to want to wear any
underwear."

"I don't know," he replied.  "I guess we just want to feel free.  Plus we
like to be prepared should anything come up.  Is there any way I could get
out of these wet things?"

"Of course," I said.  "Give me your clothes and I'll throw them in the
dryer."  I stepped to him and helped him peel his wet T-shirt over his head.
Next he unzipped his jeans and dragged his wet legs out of them.  There was
nothing left to the imagination after that, just a naked boy standing there
in socks and sneakers.  I kneeled down and untied his shoes and took them
off.  His socks were next.  I could have wrung the water out of them!

I took the towel from him and dried him off, front and back, top to bottom.
Luckily, I had a cotton shop coat hanging on the hook near the door to the
house.  I handed it to him and I went in to put his things in the dryer.  As
I turned to hand him the coat, I could see there had been some shrinkage in
the dick department from the cold and wet rain.  We'd soon remedy that, I
reckoned.

I turned the dryer on and it automatically set itself for forty minutes.  Tyler
was still towel drying his hair when I got back out to the shop.  He hadn't
bothered to fasten the shop coat in front, so his dick flopped to and fro
and he vigorously toweled his head.  It has plumped up a little and
recovered from the shrinkage factor.  He handed the towel back to me and I
used it to sop up the water he and his bike had dripped on the floor.  I
excused myself and went and put that in the dryer with his clothes.

"Man, that came on quick!" he exclaimed.  "I would have drowned before I
got home!"

"Speaking of home, you had better call your parents and let them know you
are riding out the storm here."  I handed him the phone and he left a
message, since there was no one home.

"Well, I guess it's just you and me for a while," he said.  "We finally get
a chance to check out my bike."  Not exactly what I had in mind, but I was
willing to play along.  I handed him a couple of microfiber cloths.

"Wipe the whole bike off so we can see what we have to work with," I
ordered.  He set about the task and it cleaned up nicely.  The cloths were
grimy from the schmutz he wiped off of it.

"Wow, it looks better already," he exclaimed.  I misted the whole bike with
Speed Shine and handed him a fresh microfiber cloth.

"Now, detail it," I said.  "Get every nook and cranny."  He still had not
closed the front of the coat, so I could see his bare body as he moved
around, bent down and detailed the bike.  I snuck over to the wall and hit
the button to close the garage door.  The storm had somehow lost its
appeal, given that I had an almost naked boy in my shop.

"There, how's that?" he asked.  I walked around the bike an pointed out a
few places that needed more attention.  I spritzed them with more Speed
Shine.  Tyler dutifully cleaned them up.

"That's better!" I said.  "Now, let's see what we have here.  Ahah, umh, I
see," I mumbled as I walked all around the bike.  "It's all there, just
needs a bit of lubrication and adjustment."  I took his arm and led him to
the bike's side.  I put the kickstand up and gestured for him to get on the
bike.  I didn't bother with measurements this time as I had with the girls.
After all, that was just a ploy to get my hand into their crotches!  I
didn't feel I needed that with Tyler.  He straddled the bike with his feet
on the floor on either side.

I observed and ran my hand over the seat and under his bare balls.  The
shop coat was useless now;  it just hung on his shoulders and over each
side of the bike.

"Can you raise the seat a little," he asked.  I nodded and picked the
wrench up off the bench.  I loosened the nut as I held both of his in my
other hand.

"Now lift up the seat," I said.  "You may have to twist it back and forth
some to get it to move."  He did and it came up and now hit the back of the
hand that was holding his balls.  I could see that his once soggy member
had responded to my touch and was lengthening and thickening.  I had to
pull my hand out to complete the tightening of the seat bolt.  I had him
sit on the seat and checked it for fit.  It looked all right for now; I'd
have to recheck it after a test ride.

"How about the handlebars?" he asked.

"Extend your hands to where you think they'd be most comfortable," I said.  He
did, and I could see that they would have to be raised and tilted back to
reach his optimum position.  That would require more tools, so I got them
and proceeded to adjust the bars.

"Is that better?" I asked.

"Seems OK," he said.  "I won't know until I get it on the road, but I can't
do that in this shop coat!"

"All right," I said, "let's get it lubed up."  I turned the bike over on
its seat and handlebars and oiled the chain and derailleur.  Then I oiled
the hubs and sprockets.  I also checked the action of the hand brakes and
took up a little slack in them.

"Do you think my clothes are dry yet?" Tyler asked.  Boy, this kid was
demanding!

"I'll check," I said and went to the laundry room.  They were still a
little damp, so we'd have to kill some more time.

"They have about twenty minutes to go," I said.  "Any idea of what we could
do to pass the time?"

"Well, uh, err," he stuttered.  "Do you think you could show me how to do
what we did last time?"  Instead of answering him, I stepped over to where
he was and lifted the shop coat off his shoulders.  He pulled his arms out
of the sleeves and was standing there buck naked with his hard dick
sticking out like a flag pole.  I took it in my hand and milked it back and
forth, eliciting a moan from him.  I started to go to my knees, but he
stopped me.

"I want to do it to you," he said in a husky voice.  "Teach me how."  I had
been sporting a woody for a while now, so I was ready.  I was so ready!

"Pull up that low rolling stool," I said.  I dropped my shorts and sat on
my favorite stool.  It was bar height and the low stool would put Tyler at
the perfect elevation to my crotch.  As he scooted over to me, he licked
his lips.  I had to move forward on the stool a bit to get into position
and then looked at me tentatively.

"Go ahead," I instructed, "take hold of it, it's not going to bite you!"  He
pulled my hard cock down to his level and brought it to his mouth.  He
opened his mouth and closed his lips around the end of my dick.  I could
feel him taste-testing it with his tongue.

"It doesn't taste bad," he said.

"Surprised?" I asked.  "Now just take what you can into your mouth, keeping
your teeth out of the way.  And use your tongue to swirl around on it as
you go.  Remember how I did it to you?"  He nodded his head, which had a
very nice effect on me.

He slowly took more and more into his mouth as he moved his head back and
forth.  He got quite a bit in before it hit the back of his throat and he
gagged.  His eyes teared up a bit.

"Keep your hand on it to act as a stop so you don't go too deep before you
are used to it," I instructed.  Now, I'm no porn star, I just have what the
normal American male has.  Nothing spectacular, but I'm proud of my six
inches.  Tyler seemed to be getting the hang of it, so I switched modes
from instructor to enjoyer.  If fact, he was getting into a very
respectable rhythm that was going to produce results real soon.  Don't
forget, I'd been ogling his nude form for a while now and my hormones were
in full force.

He would go deep, and then pull back and swirl his tongue around the
head.  That's
my favorite!  I could feel myself getting closer by the second.  Should I
warn him and give him a chance to pull off, or should I just let it go.  I
let my dick do the thinking for me.  There was no way I was pulling out at
this point.  A few more trips up and down and I was ready.  Tyler must have
felt my bone swelling up and looked up at me like a deer in the headlights.


"Pull out until just the head is in your mouth, and make sure you swallow
all of it!" I commanded.  Just then, the feelings became overwhelming and I
started to spurt into his mouth.  He took it like a trooper and kept
licking until I was spent.  He must have swallowed several times before he
let it fall out of his mouth.  He milked it down with his hand and licked
the last drops of the head of my cock.  I was breathing hard.

"Did I do all right, Mike?" he asked.

"I have to say, that was the best first-time blow job I've ever had!"  I
told him.  "It was even better than Meg or Laura!"

"Can you do me now?" he begged.

"It would be my pleasure," I said.  We switched positions and I gave him
the best blow job of his young life!  He didn't last long, and I got a
taste of fresh boy cum.