Date: Fri, 25 Sep 2009 19:52:31 -0700 (PDT) From: Richard Lickerish Subject: Blue Collar Sex Chapter 2 If you are not of legal age to read stories that contain adult subject matter or you are offended by adult subject matter do not read any further. All rights to this story are retained by the author. Although this story is fiction certain events in the story are true. The story parallels young John's life from birth through adolescence into adulthood. All names, dates and places have been changed to protect the innocent. This story is protected under applicable copyright laws and may not be reproduced without the express written permission of the author. Email: richardlickerish "at" yahoo "dot" com Subject line: Blue Collar Sex Blue Collar Sex Chapter 2: Military Recruiters My day started off as most did, laying in bed the sun rays filtering into my bedroom while I grasp my hard member. I could smell the coffee in the percolator brewing. I poured the last ounce of Jergens Lotion in my hand before grasping my pole again and began stroking it. I made a mental note to stop by the local drug store to purchase more lotion. After I discharged my pent up load I was up and off to the shower to wash the gooey mess off. As I reentered my bedroom to get dressed for the day dad was calling out that breakfast was ready. For us breakfast was our major meal together. The meal prepared us for the day as well as it being the one time each day that we got together to eat and talk between ourselves. Breakfast was a father son bonding time. As usual dad had prepared eggs, bacon and hash browns as well as toast, juice and coffee. As we ate we began discussing this and that. Dad could cook a mean breakfast, but the rest of our meals were generally taken at local restaurants or dad would eat at one of his clubs or organizations that he belonged to in the afternoon or evenings. Generally, I would stay and eat at my girlfriend or the Smiths. On the weekends we generally were invited to meals at my aunt and uncles or we would go to the church for one the afternoon meals on Sunday after church. I don't ever remember going hungry growing up. By now you probably think I was somewhat of a daddy's boy. Well, you're right. I adored him. We finished breakfast and I was out the door to school. Normally, I would go by and pickup my girlfriend giving her a ride to school, but she had graduated and was off attending college. My supply of boy toys seemed to have dried up. Somehow I'd managed to make it through the fall/winter semester without a sexual boyfriend or girlfriend by concentrating on my academic studies and the help of Rosy. By concentrating my efforts on my academic betterment I'd raised my overall GPA to a respectable area. By the beginning of the spring semester my senior year I was yearning for some sexual companionship. I was beating my poor meat unmercifully, sometimes more than a half dozen times a day at home, school, work or other places. I would masturbate from the time I got up in the morning to the hour before I dropped off to sleep. There were many times I was actually playing with my pecker while the teachers droned on about this or that in front of the classroom. In fact, my pants had the stitching in the bottom of the right pocket removed, opening the pocket so I might better pleasure myself. I had to make sure when I put items in my pocket I used the left one. I kept a handkerchief in my pocket to catch cum so it wouldn't bleed through the fabric of my jeans. By high school I learned so many different ways to touch my dick thereby bringing about pleasure. I would draw my hard penis up into the pocket area where could play with the glans. I discovered that my cockhead, especially the coronal ring and frenulum were the most sensitive areas, so I would concentrate my efforts on these areas during those classroom sessions. I just had to be careful not to moan or make any utterances that would draw attention to me. There were other times I would beat my meat in the boy's room or the restroom at work. Many times by the evening my old meatloaf looked as though it had been through a meat grinder and regurgitated. But rumor had it that if you wanted a huge dick later in life you had to exercise it or lose it when young, kind of like building muscles. As I would fondle, rub or jerk off I thought about other sexual conquests, but many times I was thinking about Jimmy. Jimmy Smith was the one boy I couldn't get out of my head. All three of the Smith boys had great looking buff bronze bodies from summers spent working for their father's construction business. There bodies were what drew me to them. Good looking male bodies with better than average endowment was my big turn-on for me as a horny teenager. I found it hard to find great looking guys with great bodies who were well-endowed. For me well-endowed was any dick that was at least six inches or better, but when a penis got to be over eight inches many times it wasn't all that firm and drooped. I was more taken by the firmness of a male member than its size. I'd accidentally seen my dad on a couple occasions all boned up and would say that he was not only a good eight inches, but moreover very thick. I hadn't achieved his length or girth yet in my young life. When visiting Jimmy's brothers I'd often given to gazing upon Jimmy's shirtless body wondering what he might look like in the raw all boned up, but had dismissed those thoughts because he always seemed to be straight acting, having gaggles of girls hanging around. Hell, all of us had girl friends. To not have a girlfriend back in the day only brought about speculation and suspicion. Of course after I got my drivers license the girls hung around with me as they did with other boys that drove. I'd had sex with a few, but boys were my cup of tea when it came to sex. After that first time having my dick sucked I couldn't get enough. I didn't know why I was attracted to boys more so than girls. I just enjoyed having sex with guys more so than girls. For one thing having sex with boys was safer and less expensive than girls. There was no chance of knocking up a boy; moreover, guys didn't expect expensive dinners or gifts. Hell, two guys could knock off sex in a matter of minutes at some hide away, grab a burger, fries and cherry coke and then make the movie at the local drive-in or theater. After we got to the theater or drive-in, depending upon where we were seated or parked there was always a chance to grope and jack each other off at least once during the movie. Yep, for me there was nothing like a good movie and the feeling of another guy's dick in my hand. Dad had asked me that morning what my plans were after I graduated. He wanted me to go on to college locally. There was a college about a hundred miles from our town. I had no idea what I was going to do after graduation, maybe get married -- not. I had given some thought to signing up for three or four years in one of the military services, but had reservation about that move. The major problem with going into the military in the 60s was the armed services hated homosexuals, so that meant I'd have to give up dicks and go straight. Another thing I didn't particularly care for was others getting in my face screaming at me. I'd heard from older people that had been in the military that was a way of life in the armed forces. Although I was smart and athletic I hadn't qualified for academic or athletic scholarships; besides, there was no war going on so joining up seemed to be an easy way to get out and see the world. Not to mention a way to salt away some money to go to college later. So, having nothing better to do after my last class for the day I decided to pay the local recruiters a visit. The military recruiters were all located in the same building downtown, so after my last class of the day I rode my motorcycle downtown, parked in the lot and began walking towards my final destination. As I entered the building I was apprehensive. I decided to go by alphabetical order: my first stop was the Air Force recruiter. I picked up some literature and chatted with the Sergeant for a few minutes before making my next stop at the Army office. There was a sign on that office that stated it was closed for the day, so the next stop was the Marine Corps. The Marine Sergeant was a little tougher to get rid of than the Air Force recruiter; however, I broke free and made my way to the Navy office, making it clear that I was just looking. Although I was just looking the Navy guy was the most personable and made a good pitch. I told him that my dad was a decorated Navy veteran of World War II. I found that the Navy had some interesting programs to offer. The recruiter asked me to take a quick test to see if I qualified for the programs of interest. I filled out an information form and took the test. After I was done the Navy guy told me he'd get back to me next day with the results. I stuffed the Navy brochures in my pocket along with the other literature from the other recruiters and departed the building. I knew before I left the recruiters that I wasn't going to be an officer or a pilot without a college degree, so I'd have to settle for a lesser job. Walking down the street on the way to get my bike Jimmy Smith drove past with three beautiful babes in his car, honking and waving. As I rode down the street towards my part-time job at my dad's used car lot I was becoming horny and aroused as I rode. For some reason the vibrations from a motorcycle got me going, maybe that's why I enjoyed riding so much. As I passed the local drive-in I saw Jimmy's car, so I decided to pull in for a cherry coke before work. I pulled up next to Jimmy's car, got off my bike, walked around and slid into the front passenger seat asking, "Where's all the babes?" "Ah hell there inside. The only thing they want is a ride in my car." "I hear ya." About then a carhop approached and I told her I wanted a cherry coke. She disappeared and I resumed chatting with Jimmy, "So, you gettin any?" "Naw, besides I ain't wantin to fuck none of them," Jimmy said, "So, I hear you got a birthday comin up pretty soon eh?" "Yeah, Saturday I'll turn eighteen." "So where's the party?" Jimmy asked, "You gonna do anything special for your birthday?" "Maybe take in a movie to celebrate. Wanta come?" "Is that like show up or ejaculate," Jimmy said with a laugh. "Show up. Maybe both who knows," I responded with a chuckle as I got out of Jimmy's car. "Who knows if you're good maybe I've got a surprise for you on your birthday," Jimmy said as I exited his car. I got on my bike fired it up, wondering about the surprise. Of course being a show off I left the parking area of the drive-in doing a wheelie for about a half block before setting the bike down on both wheels. I arrived late to my dad's car lot. He was gone so I wasn't missed, but he had the afternoon and next couple days fully booked for me. Seems he had been to the auto auction in another town and bought some cars and trucks as well as a motorcycle according to Dave the Used Car Manager. So, I'd have to go get them and drive them back. Once back on the property my job was to do an inventory and inspection to see what the vehicles needed to bring them up to saleable condition. I would then schedule the work. For me auction cars were a source of four wheel transportation. Sometimes I would stretch out the reconditioning process for a month or more before the cars were front line ready. It hadn't taken my dad long to catch onto what I was up to after I turned sixteen. After I got my driver's license my dad had me doing more than menial lot boy duties. He'd promoted me, with the title, Assistant Used Car Sales Manager: glorified gopher. The hierarchy of my dad's business was as follows: he was the owner and general manager; his one and only full-time salesman, Dave, was the used car sales manager; so, that made me his assistant. Dad had plans for me to take over the business when he retired. He had me start at the bottom washing cars and then moving up; however, I wasn't sure that I wanted a life in the used car business. Over the years my dad had built his business from a dusty little pot luck lot along the highway with a half dozen clunkers to a good size used car operation with as many as fifty vehicles or more at any one time. The operation had its own body and paint as well as a service department. Dad also owned a tire shop down the road. Dad was a good provider. I didn't want for anything in my life. He let me use company cars, gave me spending money and I got to fill up what I drove at the Phillips 66 service station that he and my uncle owned. As an adventurous lad life for me had become somewhat boring by spring 1963, that last semester of high school, especially my sex life or as it were lack thereof. I know what I wanted for a surprise birthday present, a sexual get together with Jimmy Smith.