by
Mark 'Ponyboy' Peters
Chapter Two
My head was still buzzing when I made it home that night. What had happened with Mike had sent my senses into overdrive, with the feeling of having someone else's mouth on my cock being more incredible than I had ever thought it could be. All my waiting and fantasizing and imaginings were nothing at all compared to the feel of the real thing. My mind was officially blown.
I went to bed early, feigning tiredness after a hard day at work, before stripping off and sliding beneath the sheets. As soon as I slid my hand down my body, tweaking my nipples and then rubbing around my navel and beyond, my cock sprang to life once more. Precum was soon leaking from the head, which I spread around the sensitive knob, sending shivers through me with every swirl of my thumb.
What Mike had done to me was everything that I had hoped it would be and left me craving for more of the same; and anything else he wanted to show me. Then there was also that "fresh meat" comment shared between Mike and Animal, which I felt gave promise of just what else I might soon experience. The future was looking hot.
I blew my load three times that night as I relived every moment. I think I woke in the morning even more tired than I had been when I had gone to bed.
Unfortunately nothing much happened the next day. I was rostered to work with Mike in the stockroom again and we were kept busy with deliveries the entire time. I caught him looking my way a few times and each time he smiled back at me. Things had definitely changed between us, but not in a bad way. We now shared something personal, something I feared I would never get to share with anyone, and despite my apprehension about being found out, I knew everything was fine. It wasn't the end of the world.
Maybe there was hope for me yet?
The day after that Mike told me that I would be needed upstairs where the shop fittings and mannequins were all stored. The store manager had asked him to arrange for the area to be cleaned up, as it was a total mess and one of the area supervisors would be visiting in a few days. As usual, there would be a mad rush to make the entire store look presentable for when the brass arrived.
'Yeah, okay,' I replied, though I wasn't exactly excited by the prospect of the job ahead of me, and I think Mike sensed that.
'Don't feel too bad. I've called in someone to help you,' he added.
'Who's that?'
'Chris Hopwood. You know him don't you?'
Yeah, I knew him. Everyone called him Hoppy. A kind of goofy looking guy that was around the same age as me but went to a different school to the one I had attended. I hadn't seen him in a while, but I recalled he wore glasses, had curly, dark hair and pale skin, and was a bit overweight, but not morbidly so. No oil painting, but from the bit of contact I'd had with him I thought he was an okay kind of guy. There were certainly plenty of uglier and weirder fish in the sea.
'Hoppy?' I replied. 'Yeah, I know him.'
'Good. He'll be here shortly, so the two of you can get stuck into it.'
I'm not sure why, but there was something about the way he said that, which had my mind racing. Foolish of me, I know, but with this newfound fire inside me after the events of a few days ago it was almost like every person I encountered now was a potential new sexual experience. Must be the hormones I reckoned.
* * * * *
I left Mike and headed upstairs to the fittings area, which was at the far end of the mezzanine floor, where I found a total mess; with shelves and brackets and all sorts of stuff, including various mannequins and their severed body parts, strewn everywhere.
'Fucking hell!' was all I could say, while immediately regretting having worn jeans today instead of shorts. Up here beneath the steel roof it could often get quite hot, so I wasn't particularly looking forward to what lay ahead of me this morning. I hoped that Hoppy wasn't going to be too far away so that I wouldn't be doing it all alone.
With little choice but to get started on the job I was there to do I began by putting together piles of similar types of fittings, so that it would be easier to sort everything and then stack it all away into the shelving, storage compartments and bins. It wasn't long after I started, however, that I heard approaching footsteps and looked up to see that Hoppy had arrived.
'Hey,' he said. 'Looks like you and me drew the short straws today.'
'Yeah. Sure looks that way. It's a fucking mess up here.'
He stopped and looked around, while I took a moment to look him up and down. As I mentioned, I hadn't seen him in a little while and I quickly realised that he certainly looked different to that last time. He no longer looked like the overweight kid I remembered. Sure, he was solidly built, but it looked to be mostly muscle now, not puppy fat. There was no longer any sign of his glasses either, and he had come prepared for some dirty work, wearing maroon-coloured footy shorts and a loose fitting, pale pink singlet, which let me see his pecs, some wisps of chest hair and some of his torso, while on his feet he wore running shoes with cut-off socks that could only just be seen. His legs were like tree trunks and with his dark hair and pale skin he was quite a sight. At one point he ran his hand up his body, lifting the bottom of his singlet slightly to reveal a treasure trail which led down past the elastic band of his shorts. I don't know whether that act was deliberate, but it was all I could do not to stare at him and lick my lips.
When he glanced back at me, I felt like I had been caught checking him out. I thought I could see in his eyes what looked to be an awareness, or a recognition of the effect that he'd had on me, then when he smiled, I just knew that he knew I'd been checking him out.
'I suppose then that we should get stuck into it?' he remarked.
Of course, my mind went straight to where it shouldn't have.
'W-what?'
'The clean-up,' he replied. 'What else? At least you've made a start on it. Bloody shop staff never care about how they put things away up here.'
'Yeah. A bunch of slobs,' I added.
He picked up a bundle of about five shelves that somebody had simply left leaning up against some boxes of stock, then added them to my pile. Watching his biceps flex was distracting. I had to look away, so I reached down and picked up some chrome bars that were used to hang clothes on and added them to another pile.
For the next hour or so we worked steadily as we sorted and packed and moved everything around. By the end of that time we were at least beginning to see a difference in the place, so that was something. While we were working, we would often catch each other checking out the other person, smiling to each other while doing so and occasionally laughing. We both knew that something was happening, and I for one was wanting to act on that, but being at work and somewhere where people were still coming and going as they retrieved stock that was being stored on this level, it wasn't possible to indulge those desires.
Eventually Hoppy stood up, placed his arms behind his neck, twisted his body around a few times and then stretched upwards. I watched as his singlet rode up a little, once more exposing his navel and the treasure trail which started there. My back felt like it needed some relief as well so I did a few stretches to try and iron out some kinks.
'Must be time for a break,' Hoppy said to me. 'I could do with a piss and then something to drink.'
'Yeah, that sounds good to me,' I replied, before we both set off for the stairs that led down from this level.
Our first stop was the rest rooms, where we stood beside each other at the urinals. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him take out his cock and then let a stream flow. I did the same and when I glanced at his face I could see him watching me also. We both shook off the last droplets but neither of us moved to put our cocks away, both holding onto our members and giving them a slow tug as we stared at each other. I was mesmerised by his uncut weapon, with its size and its red, hooded head. I'd never seen one like it and imagined holding it, or better still, tasting it.
When he reached out his hand toward mine I came to my senses, however. 'We better not,' I whispered to him as I stepped back.
'Yeah. You're right.'
'Maybe later?' I asked, hopeful that we would be able to continue this and go further.
'Absolutely!' he replied, with a wicked grin.
I zipped up and stepped over to the hand basin and started washing my hands, just as we heard the outer door to the locker rooms open. Somebody else was coming into the toilets, so as I had finished I moved to the door and opened it, only to be greeted by the store manager.
'Oh, hi Grayson,' he said.
'Hello, Mr Webster,' I replied.
He then noticed Hoppy behind me, washing his hands at the basin.
'Ahhh, that's right, Mike said he was going to get you guys to clean up the fittings area. Making some progress then?'
'I reckon so,' Hoppy replied.
'Good. Good. I'll pop by later on and see how you are going,' he added, as I watched him look Hoppy up and down, his eyes seemingly growing wide at the sight before him.
'No problem,' I said, before he then stepped past me, allowing Hoppy and I to leave.
The two of us glanced at each other as we exited the locker room and made our way down the hallway to the tea room. Nothing needed to be said, but we both knew it had been a very close call.
When we reached the tea room we found that it was empty. Thankfully we had missed the morning rush, so we sat and quietly chatted over coffees, for what I was sure must have been the first time ever. From the limited contact I'd had with Chris up to this point I'd thought he was an okay kind of guy, just a bit on the geeky side maybe. I'd always thought of him as being like one of those overweight teens that stays at home playing on his computer or his X-box instead of getting out in the neighbourhood and riding his bike, constantly having to push his glasses back in place, all the while eating too many Smith's Crisps and hiding from the world. You know the type? If you'd have seen him a couple of years ago you'd probably agree with me. Well, he's not that kid any more, let me tell you. Today I was seeing him in a whole new light, and I kind of liked what I was seeing. Maybe it was just the hormones again, I don't know, but I was getting some seriously sexy vibes from him . . . is that what they call gaydar these days? I don't know what that is, but I think I like it.
We returned to the fittings area a short time later with, I think, both of us having changed opinions of the other. Apart from our ages and our employer, there were other interests we had in common and I, for one, felt as if I had found a new friend. And a sexy one at that.
Getting back to work we continued with our sorting and stacking, occasionally smiling at each other, or even better, brushing against each other as we moved around. It was getting quite warm, but there was also something else in the air that I found difficult to articulate. I wouldn't call it tension exactly, but all the same it was something tangible and real.
During our clean-up it had been necessary to move the body parts of the various mannequins around and out of the way. Most of these were now strewn around in a couple of piles and now needed to be packed away tidily into some large crates for storage. The torsos would be stood on the steps that led down to a fire escape, just past the storage area. They were usually placed against the wall on one side of each step, giving the impression of a battalion marching down into the dark depths, even if some were missing heads or limbs. A rather surreal sight if I must say so.
I guessed that having them stored there was probably breaking some fire code or regulation, but seeing as this was how it had been done for longer than either Chris or I had been employed here, then that was how it was always done. Who were we to argue with our bosses.
I started down the steps and began tidying up some that were already standing there, trying to make room for the remainder, while Chris started bringing the first of the mannequins to the top of the stairs.
'Check out the tits on this one,' he said to me, while holding a headless, but obviously female torso. 'Would love to bury my face between these if they were real.'
I found that comment interesting.
'So, you're bi then?' I asked, while grinning up at him.
'I'm anything that anyone wants me to be,' he sniggered.
'That's good to know!'
He passed the buxom wench down to me and I found a place for her on the stairs, just behind two children and in front of a man with one arm. When I turned back for the next one I saw him holding a male torso, one of his hands cupping the obviously male bulge.
'This one looks about the same size as you,' he said, while chuckling quietly.
'You sure about that?' I asked.
He said nothing but started down the steps toward me, carrying the mannequin under one arm. I backed away slightly, going down a couple more steps until I was standing on a landing where the steps dog-legged around inside the stair-well for the first time. There was another landing a few metres below, then another dog-leg, then at the bottom of those steps was the fire escape, as well as an alcove that was hidden below the first set of steps that led off the mezzanine floor.
When he reached me he stood directly in front of me, his face expressionless. I stared back at him, wondering just what it was he was thinking. I didn't have to wait long to find out, however, as he reached out and cupped his hand over my manhood, which I could soon feel was already reacting.
'Yeah, I was wrong,' he whispered. 'Yours is way better.'
Tentatively I reached out and placed my hand over his bulge also, giving it a rub as I did so.
'I've got nothing on this one though,' I coarsely whispered back, and meaning it.
'I think this mannequin needs to go down at the bottom of these stairs,' he added, while looking down into the stair-well. I glanced down to see where he was looking and quickly realised why. 'You sure?'
'Why the hell not? I need to nut real bad.'
'Nut?' I asked. That wasn't an expression I could remember hearing before.
'I need to get my rocks off. You're driving me wild,' he hissed, before pushing past me and descending the stairs all the way to the bottom, then shuffling back beneath the descending stairs so that if anyone looked down from above we wouldn't be seen. By the time I joined him he had his cock out and was building up a steady rhythm, stroking it. I was enthralled as I watched the head of it emerge from its hood, precum glistening on the tip already.
'You ever sucked one of these?' he asked, as he worked his hand back and forth.
'Never,' I answered without taking my eyes off it and simply shaking my head. 'You want me to suck it for you?'
The next thing I knew there was a hand on my shoulder, applying some pressure. I guess he wanted me to drop to my knees.
'Please. We'll need to be quick.'
A part of me was freaking out about this, but another part of me wanted to drop to my knees and just go for it. That was the part that won out in the end, as this was exactly what I had been wishing for.
Chris removed his hand and his erection sprung upwards. I placed my hand on it, touching him for the first time. The feel of it was amazing; different to mine, yet so similar. I dropped to my knees and eyeballed the red knob. Tentatively I stuck out my tongue and licked the drop of clear liquid from the tip. The taste was salty and tart. Again, this was also different to mine.
A hand reached around and touched the back of my head, gently pushing it forward until my lips were against the tip of his cock. My lips parted and I opened my mouth as he pushed forward some more. It was happening. I was about to suck a cock for the first time.
'Just watch your teeth,' Chris warned. Instinctively I tried using my lips so that my teeth wouldn't scrape his skin, then I opened wider, letting him slide in further, as I tried swirling my tongue around, spreading some saliva so that it wasn't quite so dry.
We took it slowly at first as I began bobbing my head up and down. Chris began thrusting forward then pulling back, thrusting forward and pulling back. His massive cock filled my mouth. Over and over it hit the back of my throat, and then was pulled out. As things progressed and my saliva got to work everything slid more easily. When I glanced up at his face I could see that Chris was really enjoying the "gently does it" approach, as his eyes were closed and his eyelids seemed to be fluttering. I knew that exact feeling from my frequent jacking off while using some lubricant.
I wrapped a hand around his shaft and started bobbing my head a little faster, while also jacking him. He responded by thrusting in time, but then he took my hand and pushed it between his thighs, forcing my fingers to probe around his rosebud. Apart from doing this to myself on occasion everything else was new to me, but I was game. I felt around and soon found the centre, then gently pushed a finger inwards. A groan escaped his lips. Bullseye.
'Deeper,' he groaned, so I complied.
Just then his breathing started to grow ragged, with short breaths accompanied by grunts.
'Getting . . . close . . .' he said, as my mouth continued sucking.
I went a little faster. Sucked a little harder. I felt his cock twitch once . . . twice . . .
I wanted to taste him. I needed to taste him, so I kept my lips sealed around his knob, sucking for all I was worth.
'Aaarrggh . . . aarrgghh . .' was all he could come out with, then his cocked seemed to expand, forcing my mouth open even wider and suddenly I felt him erupt, a rope of cum hitting the back of my throat, followed by another, and then another, and another.
He was standing on his tiptoes, holding onto me for dear life, his legs trembling, his breathing sharp and laboured.
'Fuck!' he exclaimed. 'Fuck!'
I finally let go of him then rocked back on my heels and looked up at him, my mouth slightly open, his cum no doubt showing on my tongue.
'Don't swallow!' he demanded, then he pulled me to my feet. I'm sure he could see the question in my expression. Then, without saying another word he leaned forward and kissed me, his mouth opening and his tongue pushing into my mouth, wrestling with my own, scooping some of his cum back out. We sucked face and tongue wrestled some more, swapping his seed back and forth, before we finally separated.
I saw him swallow what was in his mouth, so I did the same.
'Fuck, that was hot. You sure you've never done that before?'
'Scout's Honour,' I replied. 'But I already want some more practice.'
'Oh, I think that can be arranged,' he said with a laugh. 'You might want to go wash your hands now though. I'll go down when you come back up.'
'Yeah, okay.'
I tidied myself up and started to climb the stairs, looking back down at him as I did so. He was tucking himself away and getting himself ready to come back up to the mezzanine floor also. He must have sensed that I had stopped and he looked up at me.
'Thank you,' he said.
'Anytime,' I replied, before continuing up the stairs.
* * * * *
At the end of the day Chris and I signed off, just as we always did at the end of our shifts, then headed for the front doors, which were about to be closed as the last customers were asked to leave. We managed to make it outside just before the doors came down and stopped at the edge of the car park before we would head off on our own.
'Quite a day,' Chris said to me. 'But I certainly enjoyed it.'
'Yeah, I got the impression that you did,' I replied. 'I hope we can do it again?'
'Anytime you're up for it,' he said, emphasising the word UP and grinning like a Cheshire cat as he did so.
'Very funny.'
'Well, I mean it. There is still a heap of things I want to do with you.'
As I stood there grinning at him, my mind filled with wicked thoughts but before I could reply we were joined by Mike as he was leaving for the day.
'So, what are you two cock knockers whispering about?' he demanded to know.
Chris and I looked at each other. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks already and I could actually see it in Chris's cheeks.
'You get everything finished upstairs?' Mike asked us.
'Of c-course,' I managed to reply. 'We even had a visit from Mr Webster. He seemed to approve.'
'Great. Anything else happen that I should know about?'
Once more Chris and I looked at each other.
It took a moment, but an answer did come to me.
'I was once told that what happens in the stockroom, should stay in the stockroom,' I said.
Mike looked at me sharply, then at Chris, before a huge smile broke out across his face.
'You pair of sly dogs,' was all he said, then he turned and walked away. I thought I could hear him whistling as he went.
To be continued . . .
Authors Note:
Hi there. It has been a while since I have posted anything new on Nifty. I guess life gets in the way sometimes.
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