About four months ago, I got on the bus and saw a young guy in his early twenties in the seat that I usually take. When I saw him, my heart jumped, my mouth went dry, and my dick went hard instantly. He was about my height, slender, with short blond hair and blue eyes. I took the seat across the aisle and one row back from him, giving me an excellent opportunity to admire this perfect boy-next-door type as I went to work. He got off the bus at the train station where commuters transfer to the downtown trains. But he didn’t look like the downtown sort and he wasn’t dressed for it, either. I got thinking, and wondering, and my wondering turned into heavy-duty fantasizing. When I got to work, I locked myself in the washroom and jacked off a load, thinking about the new dream-guy on the bus. He was there the next morning, too. In fact, he was there every morning except Thursdays for the next couple of months. And I watched him, every morning. He knew it, too. Our eyes met, and locked, on several occasions. At first, he’d turn away quickly, but after a while, the eye contact started lasting longer and longer. Soon, every fantasy I had involved this guy. I would dream of caressing his ass, or stroking his hard dick. In my office, I often found myself imagining the feel of his hard-on in my mouth or up my ass. For weeks, every load I shot, whether by myself or with somebody else, was accompanied by images of my hot young bus partner. Spring came, and he started wearing lighter jackets. Each one allowed a better view of his slim but muscular body. Finally, the first Monday of May, I saw my dreamboat with no jacket on at all. He was wearing a dark blue polo shirt that had “Westinghouse Lumber-Erik” embroidered on the left chest. That solved the mystery of where he went. The lumber yard was just a couple blocks down from the train station. That day, my mind and my dick went into overdrive. I was already hard when I sat down, and I spread my legs apart, placing my hand over my crotch. Erik looked toward me and I didn’t move. He looked at my eyes, then down at my hand, and I squeezed myself lightly so he could see it. He looked away, but shortly after that, he spread his own legs and then reached down to adjust himself. I wondered if he wore roomy boxers or if his stiffening prick was wrapped in briefs. Maybe they were even hotter, tighter bikini briefs. He didn’t look back at me again that ride, but we repeated the scenario the next morning, with longer looks and harder squeezes, until he again got off at his stop. The next morning was Wednesday, and I knew he wouldn’t be on the bus Thursday. By this time, I was continually horny and I knew I had to do something to take this scene to the next step. I decided to take Wednesday off. Instead of going to work, I’d make a visit to the lumber yard. I entered the lumber store early the next morning and walked around for a few minutes. It seemed nearly deserted. Finally, I spotted Erik at a work desk near the back of the yard. There was no one around him, and I cleared my throat as I approached. Erik lifted his head and gave me a look of recognition that was a mixture of shock and anticipation. “Hi, Erik,” I said calmly. He nodded and returned the greeting. “Can I help you?” he asked a little shakily. I’m sure that his usual comment would have included ‘sir’ at the end of his question, but he seemed to be doing well to get out what he did. And I guess I was a little flustered, too, because suddenly I realized that I didn’t know what I was going to say next. ‘Wanna fuck?’ seemed a little too forward, even given the audacity of my approach. I stumbled verbally for a second and then, looking around, I said, “I’m looking for a piece of wood.” Instantly, it dawned on me how accurate that was, and I almost grinned. But the wood that I wanted wasn’t going to be found on any of the shelves or lumber piles in the shop. “What kind of wood, sir?” “Something real hard. A hardwood,” I replied. My dick began to stir even as I said the word. “How large do you want it to be?” he asked. There was no indication yet that he understood the double meaning I was getting at. “Not too big, I guess. About eight inches or so, this big around,” I said, showing the dimensions with my hands. He looked at me inquisitively, and I could tell he was beginning to think something was fishy. “What are you going to use it for?” he queried. “Lots of things,” I answered, smiling. “I’m gonna use it a lot.” My dick was really getting hard now. “I’m not sure I know what you’re looking for, sir,” he said. “Oh, I know you have one,” I answered. “It doesn’t have to be exactly that size, I guess. I just want it to match one that I already have.” I put my hand on my crotch and adjusted myself slightly. His eyes followed my movement. He had to understand now. “Do you have the other piece with you?” he asked innocently, then he looked into my eyes as a slight smile came to his lips. “Of course, do you want to see it?” I returned the smile, only bigger. He nodded. “That might help me.” I moved directly in front of him. Looking around, I whispered, “Are there any cameras?” “Just at the front registers,” he responded in the same conspiratorial whisper. Then I unzipped my fly and pulled out my cock. There was only about eight inches between us. My cock almost touched his blue jeans. I mouthed the words ‘measure that’ and he wrapped his fingers around my boner. “Mmmnn, oh, god, Erik,” I moaned as he started to slowly jack me. His hands gently squeezed my shaft and pulled lightly toward my cockhead. I closed my eyes and succumbed to the excruciatingly wonderful feel of his hand action. Soon, precum was flowing freely from my slit and lubricating my rod. Erik sped up his motion, and I opened my eyes to look at him. He was staring at me with the most exquisite blue eyes I’ve ever seen. Although no words were spoken, his eyes, even his slightly parted lips, seemed to be begging me to touch him. I pushed him back behind the work bench (we were still not hidden, but at least a casual passerby might not notice us) and, putting one hand on his waist, I began rubbing the front of his jeans with the other hand. “Oh, yea, baby,” I muttered, feeling his hard fuck-stick. “You got a perfect matching piece in there.” I unzipped him and pulled out (through baggy cotton boxers) a tremendous piece of seven-inch man-meat. It was dark pink with a purplish arrow tip that curved gracefully. Not thick at all, I wrapped it in my hand and began to give him the same pleasure he was sending to me. Shortly, Erik pulled his dick away from my hand, then positioned it beside mine and took them both in his hands. Now the feel of his magnificent hardon joined with the touch of his hands, and I knew he was gonna take me over the edge. I steadied myself with one hand on the bench behind me while the other hand moved to his chest and played with his stiff little tits through the blue polo work shirt. I began to feel my orgasm build. My balls were tight against the base of my shaft. I rocked my hips in time with his rhythmic jacking. When I couldn’t hold it back any more, I said, loudly, I think, “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum!” Erik placed my dick directly above his so that my tip was pointed right into the top of his fly and the mass of light brown pubic hair that had found its way out through the opening. His seven inches lay below mine, with his dickhead pushing right between my pulled-up balls. With one more motion of his wrist, he brought me over the edge and I gushed waves of hot creamy spunk into his thick bush and all over the front of his jeans. When I was done shooting, I looked at him, his face flushed and chest heaving. “Oh, fuck, man, finish me!” he moaned. “I gotta cum, too!” I dropped to my knees and pulled his hot fuck-rod to my lips. With my fingers, I spread my load of cum up and down his shaft, then wrapped my lips around his purple helmet. He gasped as I wrapped my hands around his thighs and pulled him deep into me, until I could feel his slender dick-stick press against my tonsils. His body quivered and I knew he was only an instant away from unloading his balls in my guts. Now, I love swallowing cum, but my favorite thing to do is to watch it shoot out of a beautiful, hard cock. So I pulled off of him, just in time to see the first blast of jizz as it erupted from his piss slit. I flinched as it hit me in the nose and cheek, but I opened my eyes quickly, in anticipation of his next gooey gob. In all, seven shots hit me in the face, and when there was no more coming, I once again wrapped my lips around his dick to suck out the last of his juices. Since then, Erik and I have found lots of chances to share each other’s company, most of them a bit more secluded than our initial lumber yard meeting. He’ll graduate from college in a few months and then he’ll be moving away. But you can bet that I’m taking advantage of every day while he’s still here. Interested in a story exchange? kents11@hotmail.com
