Date: Tue, 30 Dec 2003 20:12:25 -0600
From: Allen Giffen <tutus69@hotmail.com>
Subject: Diesel Ch 1

DIESEL -- Chapter 1 - Landscaping

On that sweltering July day I pulled into the landscaping store and spotted
him -- 6', blonde, beefy, loose ripped t-shirt, cut-offs that must have
been from jeans that fit him last year, black leather boots, and with a
sheen of sweat over all his exposed skin that made my mouth water -- had to
have him.

Bought all the stuff I needed, while watching the kid parade around the
place moving things around -- figured he worked there.  God! I was hard and
starting to leak -- had to look away when he squatted and wrapped himself
around the root ball of a tree and flashed that hot ass.

"Hey kid, can you help me load this stuff?"

"Sure, mister," with a flash of perfect teeth, wavy blonde locks plastered
to his sweaty head, he put on a pair of form fitting black leather gloves
and began hoisting.

"Now I've got all this stuff.  Funny thing is when I get home I have to
figure out how to plant it."

The kid slowly rubbed each asscheek with a gloved hand, like he wanted it
to look like he was rubbing off dirt, but it sure looked more to me like he
was giving me a show, then he hooked them into his back pockets stretching
the t-shirt across what looked like a pretty impressive chest, "I could
help you with that -- it's a service we offer first time customers -- you
want it?"

Boy, did I want it.

"Sure, if you don't mind."

"Not a bit, sir, let me make sure it's OK with the boss. Besides I'm really
hot and could use a break."

I watched him walk toward the shed.  He stopped halfway there, bent down,
picked up a hose with water running out of it.  Though he wasn't looking at
me, he faced me, and first let the water run all over his sweat plastered
hair then lapped the water as it pumped out the hose.  What didn't make it
into his mouth combined with the water from his hair and raced down his
chin and neck sucking a bit of the t-shirt to his chest.  As he threw the
hose down and wiped his mouth with the back of his wet gloved hand, he
caught me frozen still gaping at him.  Again, that quick smile, this time
accompanied with a two fingered salute.

Moments later he sauntered to my truck with his t-shirt hanging out of his
back pocket.  I thought I had died and gone to heaven.  As I was starting
to suspect, the kid had enormous pecs, huge hanging slabs of meat that
actually rocked sensuously as he walked.

"You don't mind my shirt off, do you?  Don't want to get your seat all
sweaty but in this Texas summer heat all I seem to do is sweat," he said in
an almost pleading way standing outside the truck with the door open. He
was a vision, standing there with those tight cut-offs, hard muscled legs
growing out below them, a six pack that looked like six perfectly formed
warm dinner buns waiting to be grabbed above, and with the exception of the
black gloves and boots, his evenly tanned body was covered with a sheen of
sweat.

"Get in here before your girlfriend sees you and jumps your bones, kid!
Names Scott, what's yours?"

"Diesel," as he hopped in and shook my hand.  The wet leather combined with
his body heat told my brain I was holding a huge hardening dick rather than
a muscleboy's fist.

"Interesting name.  Actually, a pretty cool one.  It fits you."

"Thanks...how do you mean it fits me?"

"I don't know...like a truck...powerful...fueled...ready to go..." I
glanced at him -- legs spread, one beefy veiny arm loose at his side, the
other resting on the open window ledge, and those pecs bouncing along with
the rhythm of the ride.

"Never thought of it that way...a few kids at school make fun of it."  I
stole another glance as Diesel ran his hands through his hair pulling some
sweaty loose strands off his cheeks and forehead. His biceps moved around
under his skin like lazy bowling balls.

"They should be more careful what they say about you.  With a build like
yours, you could deck just about anyone you wanted to I bet," as I reached
over and rubbed his shoulder.  The sweat seeming to automatically make me
start rubbing more slowly.

"Gee, thanks, mister,... thanks a lot," again, that perfect smile.

"I mean it, Diesel.  Christ!  You're really built.  And you must be really
strong.  People shouldn't fuck with you -- pardon my French."

Diesel laughed and playfully punched me on the chin with his closed
fist. The leather's distinctive smell and the unexpected body contact on
his part forced a small grunt out of me.  Diesel let his hand fall on my
thigh and started to knead the muscle there.

"I think I know what language we're talkin' here.  Let's fuck around a bit,
Scott.  I know you want to -- saw you watching me at work -- like the show
I put on for you?"

He lifted his hand to my face again, began stroking it and then put his
leather covered thumb slowly in my mouth.

"Here, suck on this," as he grabbed my right hand with his and brought it
to his chest.

"Go ahead, they're yours, man, go to town."

In the seconds that Diesel took control, I lost all pretence of being the
one in control.  He had me in a frenzy -- had to pull over.  As I rubbed my
hand back and forth over his mantits moving those slabs of flesh around
feeling the hardened nipples scrape along my palm or forearm, he wrapped
his left hand around the back of my head and pulled it toward his.  His
eyes and mouth were wide open, my mouth instinctively opened and locked
with his.  This kid sucked on my mouth like he was trying to turn my lungs
inside out.  He suddenly pulled my head away, both of us panting like dogs
in heat, faces inches from each other.

"Here's what you really want and I what really need," as he took my head in
both his hands and pulled it downward, stopping at he left pec.  Seeing
that heaving mass so close put my salivary glands into overdrive.  I opened
my mouth as wide as possible and fell on the pillow of flesh.  Diesel kept
talking while I slobbered and I had a line of drool running over his six
pack in no time.

"Yeah...get it nice a wet...that's it, all over...yeah...suck it...harder.
Now the tit...suck it...harder...suck...suck...bite it...yes, yes,
yesssssss...bite harder...harder, mother fucker!...oh, yeeeaaahhhh..."

Suddenly I was there.  First time in my life I came without touching
myself.  As the volleys shot out of my aching dick, I moaned and started
slathering saliva on Diesel's chest.

Diesel grabbed the hair on the back of my head with his gloved hand and
pulled my face off his pec.  Though no pain was registering I realized that
my head and torso were being held up by my hair.  My breathing was ragged,
I was barely able to focus on Diesel's face, drool dripped from my open
mouth onto Diesel's thighs. His right hand cracked across my face with a
hard slap.

"That wasn't very nice, fucker.  I didn't tell you to go first.  I built
this body to be serviced and worshipped by guys like you.  You job is to do
what I say, know what I want and cum when I tell you."

Diesel had his legs spread wide, really wide.  While sucking I had moved to
where I had a hand on each of his outer thighs rubbing up high underneath
the cut-offs.

"Know what I want right now, fuckface?"

The whole time he had been talking, he was lightly running his leather
covered hand over my face.  Somehow he knew that the leather, made even
more pungent with sweat, got to me. Seeing it pass my eyes, feeling it
smoothly move the sweat around my face, hearing the ever so faint squeaks
as the leather creased, and the smell most of all -- I was in a trance.  He
knew what he was doing and I was helpless.

"This!"  He shoved my face into his crotch.  He pressed my head down with
both his hands, grunting with each thrust of his hips combined with each
jamming pull of my skull.  Gradually he decreased the thrusts and the
pressure and started rubbing my head with both his hands while lightly
pressing it into his crotch.  My eyes were even with his waist and for the
first time I noticed his treasure trail, dark blonde plastered to his
tanned skin with sweat, crawling into his cut-offs.  My mouth had been wide
open the whole time.  There was a big fat prize waiting for me one layer of
worn Levis away.

"Just breath, Scotty.  Calm down...calm down...that's it...long deep
breaths...I can feel the hot air...startin' to get hard, Scotty...can you
feel me...huh...feel it, Scotty?"

All I knew that whatever came next would be his call and that I was dyin'
to do it.


NOTE: I wanted to thank those of you who have given me feedback on my
Diesel stories so far.  I appreciate your telling me the parts of the
stories that you like.  Please feel free to give me suggestions for
situations that Diesel could find himself in.  Tell me things you'd like to
see happen.  Allen at tutus69@hotmail.com