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Shop Sex

by Jimmy Gordon


By Jimmy Gordon jimmygor@optonline.net

Shit, I think I’m fuckin’ goin‘ nuts. Goddamn, who’da thunk it would happen to me. I was always straight as a freakin’ arrow all my life. The fuckin’ fag had to come into my life...

I sat at the computer that day looking over the record of deliveries at Tire City, the repair shop I work at for the last ten years. It was a very slow morning, and the icy snow falling outside made the parking lot look like a frozen lake. Not a customer had pulled in since we opened two hours earlier. I looked up to see a white Mustang convertible drift into the driveway and slide to a stop at the door. They may be fun in the summer, but they’re a bitch in snow: no weight in the back, they slip around like a toboggan. I could see one tire was almost flat. I motioned through the plate glass window for the driver to pull around back, and I went through to meet him. The throaty ‘Stang pulled into the bay in a swirl of wet air. I smelled the hot engine under the hood as the driver shut it down.

Now, let me set you straight, I never thought of homo sex with a guy, but I couldn’t help noticing this one. He was certainly different than the gang I hang with. Girly smooth face with two dimples like quotation marks around his mouth. Well dressed in dark wool slacks and a cream-colored knit shirt that clung to his chest. I saw his nipples under the thin fabric, perky and erect. I’ve always been a tit man, used to drive my wife nuts, sucking on her nipples till they were red. My only thought the day she left me for her personal trainer was that I wouldn’t ever get to taste those boobs again.

He was thin, but defined. I watched his legs flex as he squatted next to the punctured tire, showing me the spike he had picked up on the road somewhere. The rim was badly bent, a tough repair on chrome wheels. I leaned in behind him and could smell his shiny yellow hair, sweet and fragrant, like it was just washed. What the fuck!

Scrambling to my feet, I returned to the desk to write up the repair. The snow continued to fall as he followed me in, and introduced himself to me.

“My name is Justin, nice to meet you.” He said in a soft, wispy voice. He sounded a little faggy, but not effeminate. Cultured, y’know what I mean? I told him my name was Robert, but call me Rob.

“I don’t have much cash with me, you take charges?” Justin confided to me. “And, how long do you think it will take to fix? I can’t walk home from here, especially with this snow!”

Ya, we take charges, but I explained that there were several jobs before him, so he could get comfortable in the waiting room, or could watch me in the back for a while. He chose to come around to the shop, and I gave him a cuppa my crappy coffee. Figured it would put some hair on that chest of his. Damn, that chest!

Sometimes, when it’s slow like this, I get a little horny. On the workbench next to the car bay I keep a stack of raunchy magazines, and occasionally I slip into the washroom to take care of business between jobs. I looked up from under the hood of a big brown Caddy I was working on, and saw Justin flipping through one of them. He smirked and looked over to me, and our eyes met. I smiled back.

“Ass Man” magazine...full of big-busted women with dark sloppy cunts getting fucked up the butt by big burly dudes. It was one of my favorite issues. There’s a group of pictures taken in a workshop, this big black man just plugging a bitch, right there on the bench. Her huge white tits were pinched into large metal c-clamps, the kind that you twist to tighten. You could see the agony in her face as the twelve-inch dick slid into her ass. I got hot just thinkin’ about it. I wondered what this little faggot Justin thought of the shots?

Justin looked from the magazine, and back to me. He reached for his belly, and started to rub himself under the sweater.

I couldn’t concentrate. The image in my head of the bitch getting fucked kept getting mixed up with Justin, rubbing that flat belly. I asked Justin to come over and hold the work light for me. Shit, I was probably gonna jerk off this afternoon anyway, why not let this pussy-boy do it for me? He leaned into the Seville and pressed his hip against my shoulder.

“That okay, Rob? You got enough light?” He asked. “Was that your magazine? Pretty hot stuff. Sure looks like they are having a ball, huh? You ever have sex here in the shop?” I knew where he was going. Hell, this kid was just askin’ for it! I wiped the grease from my hands and grabbed him by the arm. He came willingly to the shop bench. I opened my Mack Truck belt buckle and unzipped my pants as Justin dropped to his knees in front of me. He took my hardening dick in his hand and put the head up against his soft pink lips. My boxers fell around my ankles as I slid into his mouth.

I’m a big man, in case I hadn’t told you, used to play football in high school. My body has gotten a little stocky since then, but I still turn the ladies heads when I enter a room. My chest is broad and covered in brown hair. My arms are pumped, the biceps the size of cantaloupes. They stand out from my body giving me a gorilla look; some women really dig that. My belly is big but hard, and also coated with fur all the way down to my pubes. My cock is long, no bitch ever complained ‘bout that, except that it’s also really thick and can be a pain if her cunt is too small. The fag was having some trouble sucking on it, I felt him choke as he tried to adjust to the fat fucker pushing on the back of his throat. (Too goddamn bad, you wanted it now take it!)

I picked up “Ass Man” and turned to the pics of the bitch’s ass all stretched and slippery, the dude’s big black pole slipping between her pink cheeks. Shit, that turns me on! I grabbed Justin’s curly blonde head and pulled it into my crotch. He moaned and gagged. Justin pulled himself off my cock and looked up to me. “You like fucking ass? I’m okay with that, if you wanna try...” he whispered. “Just like in the magazine?” I saw lust in his eyes, he was hot for my dick, but I knew he had to be a little scared to take my salami up the tube. Shit, man, why not? I just wanted to nut, and his warm tight asshole would be a great place to do it. I figured he knew I wasn’t no fag, and he wasn’t gonna get nuthin’ from me other than a thank you.

I pulled out of his mouth and reached to turn off the overhead lights. The bays were locked, so we could have a little privacy. He stripped down and waited for me to make the first move. I turned the bitch around and pushed his shivering body up against the cold steel of the worktable. His skin felt soft and smooth, like a girl’s, as I pressed my hairy belly into the small of his back. I reached around him and fondled his smooth chest, holding the hard pink nipples in my big greasy hands. Damn, he smelled so good! I found myself nuzzling into his neck, like he was a fuckin’ chick!

He was groaning and sighing, his back arched, his chest thrust out as I twisted his nipples. My cock was throbbing against his ass. The magazine was open on the table in front of us. I saw the woman’s cunt, pink and fleshy, the big ebony cock coming up between her legs as the man fucked her shithole. Justin reached back and pulled on my fat ass, forcing my cock between his milky-white globes. I reached for the pump bottle of liquid detergent on the counter, and smeared a gob of slippery soap onto my dick. I pushed him forward onto the bench. He clenched onto the sides and held on as I grabbed his ankles, pulling up and apart, wish boning him. His ass was open to me as I stood behind him, on his belly, his little dick pressed into the metal countertop. I put the magazine on his back for inspiration and aimed my meaty cock at his quivering ass.

He screamed as I pushed the head past his puckered asshole. I pulled his legs further apart, so I could get my dick lined up good with his man-cunt. His scream subsided to a wail, then a whimper. I pack about ten inches, and the boy had at least six of ‘em in his gut. I turned the page. A tight shot of the big black dick, covered in veins and shiny with lube, stretching the whore’s ass beyond belief. It had to be the thickness of a beer can. I looked down to my own meaty pecker, sliding into Jason’s hot little ass. It looked fuckin’ awesome. Someone should be takin’ pictures of this! I pushed the magazine aside so I could concentrate on Jason. I thrust my battering ram into his ass, another inch, another, and my balls smacked up against his.

“Oh shit, oh please Rob, stop, stop! You’re so fucking big! Let me get used to it, man!” He cried. I pulled up on his ankles, raising his hips off the bench, his back arched and his smooth chest pressed into the tabletop.

I knew he wasn’t gonna get used to it, he might as well try to deal with it. Don’t know if it’s the same for faggots, but women tell me that with big dicks, after a while the pain becomes like a pressure, like your gettin’ punched in the belly. They say if you can take the pounding, it’s really satisfying to be that full of dick! Jason looked so pretty, so slim and pale on the gritty steel table. I looked down on his handsome head, delicate neck, wide smooth shoulders tapering into a sexy little bubble-butt. Nuthin’ like the fat sluts I’ve been screwing lately. I loved the sight of my belly slapping on his cheeks, my hairy crotch pressed between his legs, my boner wedged deep in his butt, disappearing into his asshole. I smelled the lemon fragrance from the soap that I was whipping to foam in his gut. I’ll never forget that smell.

“Man, you’re the best. (ungh) I’ve never been fucked like this. (ungh) You are so big, (ungh) and so fucking hot.” Jason panted, as I thrust myself into his pussy. “I can’t believe this is (ungh) happening, and that I’m taking the whole goddamn thing! (ungh) Damn, you bastard!”

I hit home; my cock was grinding against his prostate deep inside of him. I felt him shiver just before he came. His body bucked up, and his hips thrust forward. I was still holding his ankles, pulling his ass off the table, and saw his boy-cum pool in milky drops under his cock. I was glad he came on his own, ‘cause I knew I wouldn’t be able to do nuthin’ for him. I just couldn’t touch a guy’s equipment, y’know?

I felt close. I let go of Jason's ankles, and pressed my chest into his back. He sighed as he felt my weight on him, overwhelming him, driving my dick deeper into his warm, slippery hole. I kissed his neck again, what the fuck? He was pretty well stretched out, but still felt nice and tight around my shaft. I felt his sphincter flexing and pulling at me as I slipped the meat in and out of his muscular ass. Damn, this fag was talented. His body slid on his own cum as I fucked him on the metal table. He put his arms up behind his back, and our fingers interlocked. He slid forward as my crotch bounced on his thighs... then I pulled back on his hands, skewering him again on my plump meaty shaft.

“Cum, man, please, I can’t take much more of your fucking telephone pole up my ass!” Jason shouted. “Shoot your fucking hot cum in my hole!”

I pulled Jason towards me, and wrapped my arms under his armpits. I put my hands behind his neck and lifted him writhing from the table. I steadied myself, adjusted Jason’s weight, and pulled him up off my cock. Releasing him, he fell back onto my erection with a thud. I nutted right there and then, his trembling body impaled on me like a stuck pig. I don’t remember ever unloading so much fuckin’ cum at one time. I kept pumping it up his chute until it ran out of his ass and down his legs to the oily linoleum.

I fixed the ‘Stang, no charge. What the hell, he sure deserved some sort of reward for throwin’ me a fuck like that! He gave me his cell phone number. I told him I didn’t think I’d be callin’ no fag anytime soon, but he wanted me to have it, anyway. I got him stuck in my head, man. I can’t look at the magazines anymore without thinkin’ about his slender waist, firm ass and deep man cunt.


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25 Gay Erotic Stories from Jimmy Gordon

A Father's Love

The birds waited for me every afternoon. I would stop at the bakery on 56th Street and get a bag of leftover rolls from the breakfast rush. Pigeons are plentiful and most New Yorkers think of them as nothing more than an annoyance, but I enjoy feeding them. Some of them are regulars, and I even named a few of the bolder, friendlier birds. I know it sounds silly, but they brought me some peace of

A Man of Innocence

By Jimmy Gordon DoozyG@aol.com Jack would knock on the door every evening, as I was shutting down my computer and packing up my things to leave. He was the maintenance guy who came around from office to office, through the night, when everyone else had gone home. His job was to remove the piles of rubbish and paper that my colleagues and I produced in the operation of the companies business,

A Road Back

By Jimmy Gordon jimmygor@optonline.netThe road was deserted, not a car in sight for the last two miles. The Kenworth I was riding rumbled through its gears as I decelerated around the bend. It had gone cold since the sun set four hours ago, so I rolled the windows up to keep the damp October fog out of my cab. Thank Fuckin’ God the truck firm my brother works for gave me a shot at this job,

Biker's Bet, Part 1

By Jimmy Gordon. I smelled Leon’s musty leather jacket, my face pressed against his shoulder, my arms wrapped around his taut waist as we sped through the chilly November night. His big Harley growled under us as he downshifted through a turn in the snaky road. We were on our way to Jugs, the leather biker bar in the next town. I had only heard about it, my friends telling me stories of hot

Biker's Bet, Part 2

Ruben got up and sauntered over to the girls at the bar. They seemed to have forgiven him for messing around with the little queer on the barstool. I pulled my face off the gigantic biker’s cock just long enough to see Ruben step on to the gritty dance floor, a big-breasted woman hanging on his shoulders as they swayed together under the grimy disco ball. He ground his hips into hers as the

Bronx Bash

My stomach was growling. It had been twenty-four hours since I had anything in my gut that could be called food. Oh, I had taken in plenty of protein, and the big ten-inch black cock swaying in my face was about to make another deposit! I heard the sound of the men in the next room. It was like a fucking party out there, as they waited their turn to enter the dimly lit bedroom. It all started

Camfrontation

By Jimmy Gordon(I wrote this one from HIS point-of-view. Heh Heh.)jimmygor@optonline.netI met Jimmy in the cam chat room. He’s one of those sexy young guys that love to jerk off in front of men. He is blessed with a slim defined body, almost hairless, feminine but not faggy. I love to watch him bare his stuff. He’s really good, a showman for sure. He knows just how far to go, how to strip

Chosen To Suffer, Part 1

Chosen to SufferBy Jimmy Gordon - jimmygor@optonline.netI got the call late Tuesday night. The voice on the line was deep and resonant. He introduced himself as Dale, a friend of Kevin's. If you had a chance to read my “Water Rat” series, you know all about Kevin. I had sworn him off like a bad habit, a lust far too dangerous to be sated. It was an amazing summer and Kevin had

Chosen To Suffer, Part 2: The Encore

Chosen to Suffer, Part 2: The Encoreby Jimmy Gordon / jimmygor@optonline.netThe text message came up on my cell phone around 4:00 Tuesday. Dale sent me a web address, and instructions to log on that evening at precisely 11:00. I was pretty agitated by the time my appointment on line rolled around. Dale was exceptionally good-looking, but more, he was incredibly powerful. Obviously a

Chosen to Suffer, Part 3: Professional Series

Chosen to Suffer 3: Professional Series By Jimmy Gordon. The saga continues… Dale called again. He had given me a new proposition two days ago and asked me to think about my answer carefully. I was kinda anxious for him to call me back. I had made up my mind to take the gig. “It’s in Atlantic City, he’s in a tournament there and wants you to spend the entire weekend with him. This

El Sabor de un Hombre

El Sabor de un Hombre“?Habla usted Espanol, chico?” he growled, his voice just the way I expected, deep and masculine.“Un poco…” I watched the large man on the computer screen. His cam revealed the massive chest that drew me to his profile last night. “I will speak English, but mine is not so good.”There was a three second delay, like I was watching a movie and the sound was

Forgive The Trespasser

Forgive the TrespasserBy Jimmy Gordonjimmygor@optonline.netGoddamn rental car! I knew it didn’t sound right when I pulled out of the airport parking lot! But I thought it’s German, maybe they all whine like that when they change gears. All I knew is that it was a convertible and a ride across the state on a day like today required just such a car. I entered the Interstate and headed

He Came to Me in My Dreams

By Jimmy Gordonjimmygor@optonline.netHe came to me in my dreams. For weeks I would resist sleep by reading or playing Solitaire, until my eyes fluttered shut and my head slumped into the warm cocoon of pillows on my velvet couch. I dreaded sleep, feared the recurring dream that left me confused, excited and ultimately sad every morning when I would drag myself back to consciousness.It

Helping Man

A tale of dangerous sex--this story may not be suitable for general readership. Please be advised this is erotic literature and should only be read by mature adults.The bar was packed for a Sunday night. This was not my usual hangout. I had traveled over 30 miles to get to the place, a “dance bar” in the next county. I’m on the board of a GLBT community service foundation, and it was my task

Horsing Around

By Jimmy Gordonjimmygor@optonline.netThe City:Sunday night. I saw him at the end of the bar. He sat alone, sipping a tumbler of scotch and ice. He looked like a square peg in a round hole, obviously out of his element in the sleek piano bar on west Forty-Sixth Street. The crowd that night was typical, overdressed and bored as they sat at tiny chrome tables clustered around the big ebony

Lawn Service

By Jimmy Gordonjimmygor@optonline.netThe noise was deafening. The big lawn mower was crisscrossing the stretch of grass between the house and the pool, carving even stripes into the blue-green fescue. It had been a long winter, cold and gray. This was the first really beautiful day of spring, hovering at 78 degrees. My blonde hair had gotten dark, my flesh white and pasty. I longed for the

Shop Sex

By Jimmy Gordonjimmygor@optonline.netShit, I think I’m fuckin’ goin‘ nuts. Goddamn, who’da thunk it would happen to me. I was always straight as a freakin’ arrow all my life. The fuckin’ fag had to come into my life...I sat at the computer that day looking over the record of deliveries at Tire City, the repair shop I work at for the last ten years. It was a very slow morning, and the

Straight to Me

by Jimmy Gordonjimmygor@optonline.netI tasted the salty tang of his pre-cum as his cock slipped around in my mouth. I was going to take my time, this time, the last time. I wanted to savor the moment and the delicious taste of his dick, the strong scent of man rising from his thick pubic bush. I couldn’t keep seeing this guy, not like this. I knew going into it that he was straight, and

The Holidays Suck

By Jimmy GordonNote: This is a story involving drugs, booze and consensual sex with hairy men. It is intended as erotic fictional entertainment, and any individual who is not of legal age or does not wish to view such material should not continue reading.The Holidays SuckHis breath hung frosty in the air as he exhaled through his mouth. It couldn’t be more than 30 degrees in the

The Native Desert

The Native Desert jimmygor@optonline.netThe sun had set several hours ago, the heat of the day forgotten as the desert fell under a mantle of cold night air. The horse was as exhausted as I was, and I felt her stumble over hidden snake holes and grassy roots as we trudged through the unending sand berms of the valley. She couldn’t go on much longer. If the old girl failed me, I was surely a

The Sins of Matru

Please do not read this story unless you are of legal age in your community. It is intended as literature, and as such is not based on any individual, alive or deceased.He was a quiet man, twenty-two in the summer of 1946; his still young face lined with worry and years of the blazing Indian sun. Still, he looked like all of the other men in Bombay (later known as Mumbai), their skin the same

Water Rat

The wave-runner sputtered to a stop, and quickly settled into a foamy swell as I drifted towards the beach. I could smell hot plastic, and the engine case was steaming. I knew I had plenty of fuel, so the fucking motor must have blown a gasket or something. I know diddly-squat about engines, so who knows? I only know that this island is a good two miles from the mainland, and I’m certainly not a

Water Rat, Part 2: Choices

Water Rat 2: Choices (Please read “Water Rat” first. This is intended as an epilogue.) I had been bound at the wrists for almost a full day. Stranded on this island had turned into one of the most important and life-altering experiences I have ever had. I discovered that all of the games, all of the passion and sexual adventure of my life to this point was meaningless. I had found total

Water Rat, Part 3: Rapture

By Jimmy Gordonjimmygor@optonline.netAuthor’s note: Please read Water Rat parts I & II before you begin this chapter. The Water Rat series is a sinister tale of submission and dominance. It explores the confused emotions of hate and desire, and the fine line that separates the two. It is definitely adult in content, so the typical disclaimers are urged. Please do not proceed if you are

Window Pains

Jimmygor@optonline.netI live next door to a very nice family. When my lover Bobby and I bought the house several years ago, they welcomed us warmly and gave us lots of advice and support, as we had never owned our own place before this house we are in now. If they didn’t know we are gay, they surely do by now, as we are very open about our sexuality, although we don’t push it in their face.

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