Date: Mon, 23 Aug 2004 14:10:07 -0700 (PDT) From: Bryan Thompson Subject: Primed at the Pump Readers may feel free to email me at brymant@yahoo.com You may also read my other stories "Getting in Shape" and "Yes Sir, Professor" Chapter One The whole scene reminded me of a 1960s movie, driving across Rte. 66 through the heartland. I'd decided to drive across country just to be able to say I'd done it. I was ending a relationship in New York and decided to start over in Los Angeles. Four days of tooling across the country in my convertible had bronzed my skin and bleached my hair. By late afternoon I was hot, thirsty and running low on gas. I was also horny, but short of humping a cactus, I doubted there was anything I could do about that in the middle of the desert. Albuquerque was still at least two hours away when I spotted a gas station appearing on the horizon. I decided to fill up the car and get a Coke and take care of two of my problems. No one immediately appeared as I sat at the pump, so I sounded the car horn. "Get out to the pump kid!" I heard a gruff voice say. In a scene that could have walked right out of my fantasies, a Greek god wheeled out from under the car in the service bay. I watched and squinted as he pulled himself to his feet and wiped his greasy hands on his skin tight jeans. He had a broad muscular chest, so beautiful that I almost forgot to check out his basket. He push his tousled curly hair out of his eyes and started towards my car. "Put your shirt on loverboy!" I heard the unseen speaker growl again. The young Adonis turned back and took a service uniform shirt from the hook. "No! I screamed inwardly, don't cover up that chest before you get over here." He pulled the shirt on but didn't button it. As he walked over I was torn between watching his gait and the way that the bulge in his jeans shifted with each step and replaying the last phrase in my mind. Why had the boss called him "Loverboy" when there was a male at the pump? Was there any hope? Doubtful. He looked at me and I met his glance, lingering longer than necessary in case he was looking for a hint. "Fill it up?" He finally asked. "Uh, yes." I stammered. "Matt" the oval on his uniform shirt read. As he turned to retrieve the gasoline nozzle, I tried to get my first look at his ass, but his untucked shirt obscured it from view. He started the pump and then picked up the window washing squeegee. Man, when is the last time I'd even had someone pump my gas back east, let alone wash my windshield. I really felt in a time warp. "Wash your windshield?" he asked and eagerly I nodded, again trying to read his bright blue eyes. Was there a hint of a playful dance in them? Or was it wishful thinking. He stopped by the side of the car and leaned over the side to the windshield. My arm had been resting on the top of the car door and he leaned up against it, pushing his bulging crotch into my arm. Was it an accident or a hint? He didn't back away, in fact, he seemed to be dry humping my arm as he meticulously cleaned my windshield. My own dick started to grow as I kept my arm in place and watched his shirt fall open as he cleaned my windshield. The gas pump clicked off and he straightened up and replaced the nozzle on the pump. He walked back to me. I was acting like a giddy school girl staring at him. Could this Adonis possibly be for real? Was he coming on to me? I looked up at him and met his eyes. He grinned and winked at me. There was a long pause... "Uh, that'll be $28.50." He said. "Oh, uh, yeah..." I answered and started digging for my wallet. When I looked back up at him, I could have sworn he had been looking down at my own bulging crotch. I fished out two twenties and handed them to him. "Just a minute" he said and turned and sauntered into the station. While he was gone, I berated myself "Settle down you big homo - what are you going to do? Jump in right here in front of his boss in the gas station. Just calm down and get back on the road. He was gone several minutes and then I watched him return with my change. Happily the hot desert wind blew his work shirt open as he returned to my car and I got another glimpse of his big pectoral muscles. He counted out the money into my palm. "Thanks" I stammered again as he finished. But just as he said "Forty" he set something else into my palm. I pulled back my hand and looked - a grimy key chain marked "Men's room." My heart skipped a beat as I looked up at him. He nodded his head. Could it be? Was I about to be the luckiest guy in the western hemisphere? Without a word, he turned and walked away. I gulped and watched him. I replayed the events in my mind. It was a come-on, wasn't it?! I had to find out! I pulled my convertible over to the side and nonchalantly got out of the car walked across the front of the station. I glanced inside trying to get a look at the unseen voice to scope out what our chances were. I turned past the open garage doors, stole another glance at the pump boy who didn't even turn around. Had I imagined the whole thing? I went into the station and found "Jack" an older, grumpy, swarthy looking man, apparently the owner getting some money out of the cash register. "Uh, could I have change for the Coke machine?" I asked. "Sure Mac." He said. I handed him a dollar and he handed me four quarters. He brushed past me and called towards the garage. "I'm headed into town for those parts - keep your eye on the pumps and the cash register!" he called to the attendant again in his gruff voice. Well, that takes care of one problem, I thought to myself as I slowly purchased a bottle of pop and walked back to the men's room. Timing my arrival so that I could watch the dust trail behind Jack's pick-up truck headed up the highway. I hadn't seen any sign of Matt as I'd passed in front of the garage again. Was I out of my mind? I arrived at the restroom door, convinced I'd imagined the whole thing, but I fitted the key into the lock and turned it, cautiously pushing the door open. I'll never forget the sight that greeted me, nor will I ever forget what it led to. Standing leaning against the wall by the sink was the incredible body of the gas station attendant, only now the work shirt was gone again and his work pants lay on the floor by his feet. Staring me in the face was a huge, erect penis. Matt grinned, "Fill it up?" he asked. To be continued.