Date: Tue, 19 May 2009 20:31:19 -0400 (EDT) From: Clark Building Subject: Aerospace Lessons About a year after I started working at McDonnell-Douglas Aircraft in Long Beach, I got into a routine of going to the men's room late in the evening on Swing-shift, where I would jerk off. Masturbation was something I did regularly as a young man. I worked in Building 4 as a Heavy Handformer, unrelated to my masturbation. The restroom was in the northwest corner of the building and was a long row of stalls without doors. I always went to the very last stall so no one would be walking by to see me jack off. I always took a section of newspaper to justify my lengthy stay and to use as a shield if someone like my leadman came looking for me and was rude enough to actually look while I had my hard cock in hand. I would hold my cock in my right hand and the newpaper in my left hand ready to cover. After many sessions, I noticed one night that there was a hole in the partition between my stall and the next one, a small hole about a quarter of an inch in diameter. I didn't notice it before, but it may have been there all along or it might have been drilled more recently. I didn't know. It was positioned so a person in the next stall could sit on the commode and comfortably look at the lap area of the person in my stall. At the first moment I noticed the hole, I noticed also that someone was looking through the hole at me. It could have been the movement of their eye or the change in light coming through the hole that alerted me to the existence of the hole. Not sure. In any case, my first reaction was to cover myself with the section of newspaper that I held for that very purpose. But then I began to think it over. This person was not out to catch me or embarrass me or turn me in for my bad conduct. They just want to see me jerk off, I thought, what else could it be. So, after pondering that perspective, and being more than a little aroused at their sexually charged curiosity and interest, I took the newspaper down and jacked off in full view of my new fan. Maybe he had been there many times before, unnoticed, I had no clue. But then it all got more exciting for me. I loved being watched by my unknown voyeur. For several weeks I performed for him and let him go out satisfied, or whatever, without letting on that I knew he was watching. Then one night, hearing him walk away, I leaned out and saw him, recognizing immediately who he was, and he looked back to see me looking at him. From then on, I walked by his work station and smiled at him on my way to jack off and soon he would follow me into the restroom and take up his watching post. I wondered if he jacked off while watching me, I never knew. Soon thereafter, he would try to follow me out of the plant after work, trying to talk to me. Mainly because I was young, fit, tan and good looking, I avoided him. I was pretty in comparison to him, with my long blond hair and blue eyes. He was a little older, kinda chubby, and rather homely, to be kind about it. For weeks, maybe months, he tried to get me to talk to him and I always brushed him off with remarks like, "go away" and "leave me alone." But still, I smiled and jerked off for him in the plant and enjoyed having his lustful attentions. I was the proverbial cock teaser. I knew girls in High School that would get guys excited and then be aloof and unkind in their rejections. I was doing much the same to another guy, but not really conscious of my mean and inconsiderate behavior. Sexual attraction between guys was not familiar to me, or I was just a thoughtless jerk, maybe both. It should NOT have come as a surprise to me that something would happen with him, but one night I went to my car, which I parked in nearly the same place every night, and he was waiting. The shift ended about midnight so it was dark, cold, and wet as I started to get into my car, when suddenly the side door of a van next to my car opened and my new boyfriend threw me inside the van. He was bigger and stronger than I had ever anticipated him being. Before I could really respond or try to get to my feet, he had closed the van door and was putting duct tape on my mouth, binding my hands and feet together with the same tape, which he had several lengths already cut, hanging from the ceiling. I felt really caught off guard and hardly put up any resistance at all as he overwhelmed me and had me quickly bound and silenced. Naturally I feared that he would beat me, or seriously injure me, or even kill me. I was terrified of his unknown intentions and my own previous nasty treatment of him added to my anxious fright. He drove out of the parking lot and around some other part of the plant until we were in a dark alley adjacent to Veterans Stadium roughly a block from McDonnell-Douglas. In those days and at those hours, it was a place of seclusion and serious privacy for all manner of sinister or romantic acts. I knew approximately where we were, but once the engine stopped and the lights were turned off, it was pitch black in the back of the van and I could not see anything. I heard him move and a flashlight shined in my eyes and he began to speak, for the first time. "You know what a bitch you are?" he asked. My mouth was taped shut; I made some inane noises, not knowing even if I should try to answer. "All I ever wanted was to be friends and you treated me like shit!" he ranted with perfect reason. "Now, you're gonna get fucked whether you want it or not." "Your sissy-boy face is gonna have my cum all over it and you're gonna have a good taste of it." "If I have to hurt you, I will." "Why you have to be so fucking stuck-up and mean?" "I wanted to take you places and buy you stuff. I wanted to suck you and kiss you and love you." "My name is Aaron, do you even know my name?" A long pause and several minutes of silence in the dark, then, "Are you cold? I have a blanket." He pulled a blanket off the passenger seat and again the flashlight blinded me as he waved it around trying to spread the blanket over me. He seemed to go mellow and kind for a minute, finally asking me if I would agree to keep my voice down if he removed the duct tape. I nodded "Yes" into the flashlight and his hand gently tugged the tape off my face. I said "thank you." And then I said, "I am sorry I was mean to you. My name is Clark and I am glad to finally meet you, Aaron. Please don't hurt me." I was doing my best to defuse what I thought could be a time-bomb. I was vulnerable, contrite, and still scared of what could happen. Getting fucked sounded like a good time, considering what other things angry guys can do. Multiple stab wounds came to mind. Suffocation and strangulation are popular. Beheadings more rare, but alarmingly effective. If all the guy wants is his dick in my ass, I thought, let the evening begin. All in all, aside from the rude abduction, the guy had a legitimate gripe. Maybe we should talk. "Aaron," I started, "I guess I made it difficult for you. Sorry." "Do you really mean that?" he asked, "or are you just saying it so I will leave you alone and let you go?" "Well, honestly, I am scared of you, but if you will lie down here with me under the blanket for awhile and make me feel safe and comfortable, I might like getting cum all over my face. You know, I loved having you watch me jack off. I might like to jack you off. Is that the sort of thing you had in mind?" "I thought of that," he replied, "and lots of other stuff." "Lie down here," I invited, suddenly feeling in control. I rolled to one side and felt him groping in the dark as he got under the blanket. The floor was padded with a sleeping bag and other padding of some kind beneath that. Comfortable and warm with his body next to mine. He smelled better than I expected and I was relieved that his breath was not obnoxious, like so many guys. From his breath, I found him facing me and pushed my head forward, surprising him with a light kiss on the mouth, which he quickly returned. "Now you're all friendly, huh?" he remarked. Trying to be cute, I said, "Well, you got my attention." He chuckled amiably, tensions fading. I was relaxing and he put his arms around me and kissed me again, our tongues touched, we tasted each other. "Do you still want to fuck me, Aaron?" I cooed. "I'm gonna do it, Bitch. You got it coming," he said with a confident and impressive resolve. "Oh, Aaron, I am going to have your baby," I laughed. And we kissed again, long, deep, very nice, tongues all around. He started undoing my belt and pulling down my pants. I would have helped but for the tape holding my hands and ankles together. I started to ask that he remove the tape, but I decided to let him release me as he wished. Besides, it's exciting to get fucked in bondage, try it. My hands were taped in front of me, not behind my back, so when he pulled down my pants and shorts, he needed only to release my ankles to spread my legs and remove my lower garments. Somehow he had dropped his pants while removing mine and rather quickly he got my legs apart, me face down, and something cold and runny going down the crack of my ass. "Lotion," he said, as he mounted me and a stiff insistent cock began probing my anus. Having never seen or felt his cock before, I was made apprehensive by what I felt between my ass cheeks, a substantial member I surmised and the pain began at once. Experienced at getting anally fucked, I was nevertheless not a loose lay by any means, and it took awhile for him to gain entry and for me to catch my breath and submit to the initial pain and discomfort. He started slowly in and out and the lubricating lotion got where it was needed, smoothing the strokes and the stabbing pain reduced to a constant burn, a throbbing ache that felt good while it hurt at the same time. Nothing quite like getting fucked in the ass. "Oh, Baby, fuck me!" I invited, as he began with powerful thrusts, "Fuck me hard." He wasn't saying anything, but I knew from the rigidity of his mighty cock and the power of his strokes that he enjoyed my ass and my enthusiasm for his performance. "Oh, Aaron, punish me for being such a bad girl. Fuck the shit out of me. I want your cock; give me all you got. Fuck me hard! Oh, My God, you are just what I need!" The blanket fell away from us but we were soaked with sweat and working hard. He picked up the pace and I knew he was about to ejaculate. The thought triggered my own orgasm and I unloaded all over the sleeping bag. A minute later his grunts and rapid thrusts told me he was getting off in me and then he relaxed and slowed to a stop. "Thanks for stopping by," I quipped. He finally laughed. We kissed. I told him truthfully that it was terrific and we would have more later. "You're not going to the Police?" he asked, seeming sincere. "No, Sweetie, never. But we're not getting married and I'm not having your baby." "I am sorry I had to kidnap your ass, just to teach you a lesson," he pleaded. "Well, now, Aaron, you can't go around doing that, but I am happy to make your acquaintance. It was fun. You have a nice dick and I want more of it. So, what the hell, buy me a beer." "Too late," he said, "Bars are closed." Christ almighty, it was almost daylight. "Sorry I was such a stuck-up Bitch. You deserved better." He took the tape off my wrists and drove me back to my car. That spring and summer we had lots of beers together and I slept with him at his apartment many times. He fucked the shit out of me for months, but gradually we tired of each other and went our separate ways. After I left McDonnell-Douglas I never saw him again. Sometimes when I jack off, I think of him looking at me through that little hole in the restroom partition. A fucking pervert, just like me. Part two: After I "made friends" with Aaron, my leadman, I think his name was Demitri, Demi something, seemed to take an interest in my private life. Demi had for a long time always found ways to mention the size of his cock, bragging more or less, at least he did it when I was around to hear it. He would relate instances when a new girl he dated or his ex-wife would say something, however insignificant, about the impressive manhood he possessed. I think he said once, something like, "My ex told her lawyer about me and said that she hates my guts, but misses my dick." Always, something about his big dick and always seemingly said when I could hear it. I admit, I got curious about it after a awhile. Maybe that was his intent. Demi was a tall, dufus, nerd type with a slight build and half bald head. About forty years old, anyone would just assume that he was married, which, he had been for about fifteen years. One of the things he was always talking about was his Kaiser-Frazer sportscar, which I considered a piece of shit, but he seemed to love it. He had seen me and Aaron together and likely figured out that I was as queer as my swishy long haired appearance would suggest. At least nothing else suggested anything but sheer fagothood. Now, Demi was clearly a straight guy, always telling about young women he was getting naked with: "I told her we would play Lion. She would get down on all fours and roar. I would throw the meat to her." I had my doubts that he was getting laid at all. For one thing, he was starting to get suggestive with me. A straight guy with all the women he wants is not that likely to flirt with someone he thinks is queer, unless he is missing something he has a secret letch for, like maybe he wants to try a little gay sex act. One Friday night he had asked me to meet him at a nearby bar called the Zansabuku. A few beers on him after work. I was game. I knew the beer would lessen his inhibitions and he would make moves on me. I planned to make him an avid bi-sexual. He didn't want to be seen leaving the plant together because he was my supervisor, so I parked a block from the bar and walked there where he was waiting at the door. The place was crowded, no place to sit, so we stood around drinking beer from bottles and trying to make small talk over the noise. Three or four beers went down quickly enough and I told him I was ready for a ride in that dumbass "sportscar" of his. We had previously discussed why I thought so little of his car. He felt otherwise and was certain that I would change my mind if I took a ride in it. He kept it waxed up and shiny, but it still looked ugly to me. He drove fast down Lakewood Blvd., around the traffic-circle and onto Pacific Coast Highway, headed for his apartment in Seal Beach. I had told him in the bar that I wanted to see that cock that he was so proud of. "What would you like to do with it?" he had asked, with a big smile. Smiling back, I had informed him that I would do anything he was man enough to make me do. Apparently he had some ideas in that regard, because he was not wasting any time getting me to his place. I looked forward to him earning his "Leadman" title. Under my denim work clothes I was wearing lavender colored frilly nylon panties, had my toe-nails painted hot pink, and had a tube of red lipstick in my pocket. I had sprayed my crotch with Zen cologne by Shesheido, something most men like. When we got to his apartment building, he was sneaking me in, because he didn't want his neighbors to know he was having a male visitor. Once inside, he thought we should have another beer and listen to some soft music. He came back with the beer, but forgot about the music because I had stripped down to my panties and put on the red lipstick. Immediately, I tell you, the man was all over me like stink on shit. His tongue was in my mouth before I could say any of the clever come-on lines that I had planned to utter. His hands were all over my body as he hugged, stroked, licked, and kissed my neck, my chest, my belly button. And, most exciting for me, his sense of smell and the Zen cologne was taking his face lower and lower where my little stiff prick was waiting to introduce Mr. Straight Guy to the delicious art of cock sucking. It took a little while and my sweet girlish coaxing and squealing, but down he went and in the end he could not resist. Most straight guys want to try cock sucking, they just want assurance that nobody will find out about it. How gay they feel afterwards is just a matter of their own psyche and their own knowledge of how much they long to do it again. Some swear they will never do it again, but time passes and the urge grows into a hunger that becomes an obsession. It's habit forming. So, yeah, we went down on each other most of the night, his cock lived up to his bragging (big, pretty, very stiff) and only getting tired and sleepy put an end to it for that night. In the morning, a shower together led to his first pussy-boy fuck, tore me a new one, and, if I had to guess, that clenched it for him. Men, or at least certain girly men, were now on his menu of sexual treats. For sure, I was on his menu. Our work relationship was suddenly much different. I had a new task at the plant. Demi would send me to get "tools" which were framework shapes mounted on wooden fixtures. In "handforming," the aluminum parts being made had to be finally shaped to fit snugly on the "tool" before being heat treated. Once the metal was heat treated, it would be too rigid and too strong to bend or shape further. Anyhow, Demi would send me to fetch the "tools" which were stored around the plant in old concrete bunkers that had been bomb shelters during World War Two. The bunkers were unlighted and crowded with stored fixtures, but there was a system for finding the right numbered "tool." But it took time and a good flashlight to find things. Demi would sometimes go with me to look for a "tool" or he would show up there while I was looking. We would be alone there in the dark, dusty bunkers, his big cock needing my hungry mouth on a regular basis. Sometimes he would suck me too or fuck my tight ass. I learned to take it quietly, breathing heavy, and grunting low, as he fucked me until I thought I might pass out. He was very energetic for an older guy and I liked working for him in that capacity. He was always considerate and saw that I got my rocks off too, if that was what I wanted. Most times, I just wanted to be of service. His neighbors got to know me, but not what my role was in his home and in his bed. A nice quiet pussy-boy is what he needed. Can you say, "OH, MY GOD, YES," in a whisper?