Date: Thu, 21 Mar 2024 15:21:11 +0000 From: Scribbler Lad Subject: Delivering Loads - Part 3 Delivering Loads - Part 3 The life of lads. Please donate to Nifty to keep the stories coming. donate@nifty.org All comments welcomed scribblerlad@hotmail.com Delivering Loads - Part 3 The day flies, load after load is dropped, I'm energised. In the van, safe between drops I sniff his musk, at lunchtime I lie in the back of the van, his pants draped across my face, his yellow stains and precum slug trail at my nose, his arse smell lingering. I relent and beat off, the van light yellow under the fibreglass roof making my cum a pale yellow as I wipe my spunk up on his undies, jam them back in my pocket and finish my sausage roll, pretending it's his cock in my mouth. I'm hard again in a jiffy, playing lightly as I bite into his sausage shaft and finish chewing him, swallowing like I would his explosion in my mouth. The afternoon flies, I must've missed the traffic somehow and I'm back in the depot early, sweeping out the van, polishing the lights, whistling away as I work. Boss says `you're doing well, great stats and a guy from Stokesley Avenue dropped you great feedback.' `Thanks Boss' `No, it's thank you Son, keep it up' `I try to' I said, just thinking of Josh makes my pole hard. `You might as well fuck off home' said the boss. I need no second request and I'm out of the door, cycling, arse in the air, no need for a seat, I see the UPS shutter doors open and Josh talking to The Beast animatedly, arms waving. Beast prodding him. I wait a moment unseen, across the road. Then Josh storms out, sees me, crosses the road and says `we'd better get out of here to mine'. He jumps on the seat holds on to my waist as I plough on, pushing down on the pedals till I've got some momentum then I sit back on his thighs, his hands gripping and rubbing my chest, squeezing my nips, then I stand on the pedals for the hills, Josh holding my erection and letting go to push his arm out and a leg, doing theatrical left and right turn signals. We're laughing so much I can hardly breathe. I sit down on his thighs on a slight incline and Josh nuzzles his face in my back. `Just here, we've got a few minutes, you a size 9?' I nod, getting my breath back. `Thought so, good, I've a spare pair of nines. I'll get em, oh and shorts and a shirt, you can wear my spare pair, they're a bit musty but you'll be alright.' He leaves me waiting on the pavement, my hard on finally subsiding, I check for a damp patch of pre, thank God it's not shown through. Then he's out with a shoulder bag and boots tied by laces around his neck. He sits down on the bike seat `come on get a fucking move on else we'll be late' `Where we going?' `Derr, shit for brains, football kit, football boots, we're going to the fucking ballet to dance Swan Lake, take a left here' We rock up at Danesmoor AFC. The lads are gathered and shuffle into a low prefab council sports building. Josh high fives a few lads and pinches a couple of asses and gets his dick pulled in return. `Who's the ringer Josh?' `A guy from work. He's crap at football but he stands his round', The lads cheer. The older guy, the manager Bert says, `sounds like he'll fit in, right lads £2 quid in the box and get bloody changed, why do I have to tell you every week!' He shuffles off into his cubby hole to change and Josh drops the coins in and throws his musty gear at me. `You can pay for me next week', I nod. The lads are stripping all around me, laughing and pulling each others plonkers, waving their willies around as they cram into crusty shorts, some with jocks, some wearing nothing under. I'm largely ignored just a few muss ups of my shaggy hair hair and a `come on newbie get your skates on'. We run out onto the pitch, `10 laps' shouts Bert. A moan rises as the lads start the run. `Left' shouts Bert and we touch our left boot as we run, `Right', `left', `Left', `Change' We turn around and run the other way, `Sprint', We sprint off. Bert judges our tiredness, `last lap', `sprint finish'. We assemble panting, arms on knees, bent over. Josh and I are looking at their arses. Josh points to a lad with beautiful ass globes and no jock strap lines, then runs up to him and jumps him, mock fucking him. The lad throws him shouting `Gerroff you big pansy' and the lads pile on him. `Now now', says Bert `20 press-ups each of you' we get down and I'm struggling after 15, along with a few others, Josh accelerates and must do 30 before coach barracks him for showing off, putting his foot under his crotch and flipping him over. The lads are already paring up doing sit-ups, holding down their mates shins. This guy Rob, I think, chooses me and smiles at me as I hold his legs and he does alternate sit-ups. I'm staring up his shorts, what a view, just a bollock showing. We swap and he's checking me out, I'm sure I've chubbed up for him. We finish the warm up and Bert splits us into two teams of 10. Me and Josh are playing against each other. `No heavy tackles, so no need for shin pads' says Bert as he hands us the red bibs. `Warren, take your red T shirt off, too confusing. Warren strips, he must be a plumber or electrician, beautiful thick pecs, feathered lats and narrow waist. `But boss I'll fucking freeze', `Better keep running then lad', Bert blows his whistle and we're off, it's all bravado abd shouts for the ball. Lads expelling energy and looking to score, looking for an ego boost at someone else's cost! I loved it. We won by 4 goals to 3. None from me but I did get the ball off Josh, rather neatly I thought and had one assist. We left the pitch arms over shoulders, lads japing and into the changing rooms. The room off had two shitters and communal showers set around a big square sunken bath with foot wide tiled walls about 3 foot deep. The water was pouring in really fast from a huge spout, the steam already filling the room. Lads naked bums on show, cheeks tensing and relaxing, as they took a leak. Bert shouts, `shower off the mud first then have a good soak lads. I might even join you', A groan from the lads. Josh says as he strips, `you gotta watch Bert, he's a sly old devil, he'll be touching you up.' `Deffo' says Rob, as he looks me up and down. We strip off giving each other a show and we run, juggling willies like 7 year olds into the hot showers, `Soap up then rinse off' says Josh, `no soap allowed in the bath, clouds the water, now't to see then'. `Wash me back' says Rob. I soap up and massage his shoulders and back, taking my time, pausing at his ass, `Er, I can do it from here' he says then to Josh `you can bring this lad every week'. I'm looking at Warren, his wasp waist and muscular shoulders and thick thighs soaping himself up, his cock showing through a mass of foam. He notices me staring open mouthed, he grins then does a quick flex for me then darts under the jet and rinses the soap out of his hair turning slowly as the water cascades over his tanned frame. Guys are sat on the tiled bath edge, chatting, close, warm then they sink into the water, a tangle of legs and cocks surfacing for air like guppies. The guys shuffle up as me and Josh sink in, hips touching, an arm falls across my shoulder as Rob sinks lower and ducks under blowing bubbles then fills his mouth and spurts Warren sat opposite. `You dirty get' says Warren and splashes Rob, missing and soaking me. I fire a cupped handful back and soon it's a water fight, ducking lads under, arm wrestling and grabbing till Bert comes out and clambers in. He's quite fit for an oldie, he must be 40. His cock is long and shaggy, out of a mass of pubes with an overhanging foreskin and huge balls swaying in a worn out, stretched leather sack. We all stop and quieten down getting lower under the hot water up to our necks, cocks and abs piercing the water as we bob up and down. We get out leaving Bert to drain off as the water lowers and dry. Who's for `The Feathers'' someone shouts and a cheer goes up. `We can get a pie on the way' says Josh and we dress, another sea of cocks and asses. I'm mesmerised again. `Come on you' Josh says, tutting and turning my body away from the scene by my shoulders and I cycle him to the chippy like a bloody Tuk Tuk. We sit on the wall eating a Steak Pudding each, sharing a bag of chips, the hot steam burning our lips as we take the first bite of the pie. We look at each other and grin `bloody great these' says Josh, I laugh as gravy runs down his chin, then looking quickly about I kiss it off his face. `Gerroff you puff' he says as we shuffle up closer on the wall. It's a fair distance on a bike to the pub and we're last in. `My shout' says Josh and diplomatically guys with full-ish pints decline so it's just me and Josh. I'm happy with that I'd be skint for the week if I bought a big round here. `Two pints of Stones darling' says Josh `when you're ready', I pass him a fiver. `Always ready for you Joshy Boy' comes the reply and a flirt between them. `I'll bet she bangs like a stable door in the wind' says Josh bringing the pints back, the guys laugh and shuffle up and we get seated. Then it's work talk, jokes on site, who's shagging who gossip and I fit in well. The favours of pints are returned and we're all square as lads get up ready for home. `Another?' Josh says. I nod weakly, God I'd have nodded if he'd said jump off a cliff. He's ages at the bar, flirting with Tracey, she looks across and smiles, I nod back then a laugh erupts between them and Josh returns. `She asked if you were my brother? I told her to fuck off, I wouldn't have that runt as a brother'. `Thanks' I said then we chatted about footie and who had biggest cock and then Josh says `who would you shag if you had the choice?' `Why don't we say it together' I say, `On 1, on 2, on 3' `Warren', we both say in unison. We collapse in laughter on the seat. Josh said he'd seen Warren do a flex for me, `You don't miss a trick do you?' I said. Josh grins at me as I watch the beer flow into his mouth through the glass, he puts the glass down and wipes off the white moustache. He's so fucking sexy, my cock is spewing into my undies again. `One last pint then back to yours' he says, almost like an order. I get them in, I'm ignoring Tracey and turned at the bar watching Josh. Tracey slams the drinks down, `Oh sorry love, I got distracted', I say, as an apology for my rudeness. `Yes, he is isn't he' she says, winks at me and brings back my change. `Oh fuck, now she knows', I mutter to myself. We have a slash, separate bowls tonight, no big trough camaraderie, just the sound of Josh's fire hose piss echoing around. We zip up, our eyes meet and we both grin. He bundles me out of the door, his hands on my arse cheeks gripping me, pushing me, making me stumble. `Good night Trace' says Josh, She smiles, then shouts `Its always Tracey, never a Trace, remember that if you want serving again boys', We get on the bike and I ride him home, he's nipping me, grabbing my tits all the way. It's straight to the toilet, we squeeze in and piss together. I manage a thin stream from my chubby cock, `Push man' says Josh `or you'll be here all night at this rate'. He leaves and I relax, soften a little and my flow increases and I finish up. I open my bedroom door and Josh is in bed, naked, he watches me as I undress, I pull down my underpants and my cock snaps up to my abs. `Beautiful, you are, who needs Warren when I've got you', I do a quick flex routine like Warren did, Josh grins then opens his arms and I run into them, we settle and cuddle on the bed. No sex tonight as we simply fall asleep, knackered after the Tuk Tuk bike rides, soccer training and 4 pints. I fall asleep snuggling up to Josh, my cock pressed against his back and my arms wrapped around him. I wake up, cold, an empty bed. My clothes folded neatly. Joshs dirty undies neatly spread next to mine. I laugh. No need for a shower, clothes on and off to work. I pass UPS depot and see Josh who raises his arm and shouts, `get a wiggle on or else you'll be late', I put my thumb to my fingers and wave my wrist at him, I get the middle finger salute back. I get to work exhilarated. TBC Please donate to Nifty to keep the stories coming. donate@nifty.org All comments welcomed scribblerlad@hotmail.com