Jump Start

It was one of those days. Rainy and overcast, the day was shaping up to be wet and dreary. To top it off, there wasn't a decent thing in the whole house to eat. Thus, the supermarket called to me. An early morning visit would be perfect; the shelves would still be stocked, and the stockers would be out of the way. Nothing in the supermarket irritates me more than to have the employees act as though they're annoyed by having customers in the store. However, such a trip was not to be.

I pulled on a light jacket and jogged out into the rain, headed for my SUV. Slipping inside, I turned the key and was rewarded with absolutely nothing. For the third time in two weeks, the blasted battery was dead. "Bugger...Bugger....Bugger! I have to get a new car," I growled, reaching for the cell phone to call for roadside assistance. This would be my second call to "BBSQ" Emergency Roadside Assistance, and I hoped it would be more pleasant than the first. I headed back into the house, listening to the Weather Channel-esque hold music and praying for an operator with 'people-skills.'

"BBSQ Emergency Roadside Assistance, this is Constance. I need your name and BBSQ Member number," a rather rough sounding voice demanded. So much for 'people-skills.'

"My name is Mark Bailey, and the member number is 9960-4347-2179. It's my dad's account, it may be under his name, Phillip." I replied. The rest of the conversation was much the same; she snapped questions at me, and I gave answers. Apparently, she had difficulty understanding the concept of a 'family account,' and had particular trouble with the idea that I lived in a different city from my parents. We finally arrived at the important matter--my dead battery--and after a long period on hold, with more rejected elevator music, I was assured a tow truck from 'City Towing & Recovery' would be on its way within an hour.

"Really, I'd be satisfied with a priest and a pair of jumper cables," I offered. Constance wasn't amused.

"They'll be there when they're there," were her final words, before a rude click ended our ever-so-pleasant morning chat.

So, I waited for the tow truck to arrive and shock my comatose truck back into service. I laughed as I had visions of a cute mechanic in a white lab coat screaming "CLEAR" as he applied the cables to my truck. If today's driver was anything like the previous driver BBSQ sent, 'plumber-butt' was more likely.

Finally at quarter of twelve, after two hours of waiting, I saw a wrecker emblazoned with 'City Towing' drive past the house, ignoring the large street number printed above the door. "Not the brightest wrench in the set," I thought to myself as I walked out the front door to flag down the driver. It was still raining, and I wished I had grabbed my jacket on the way out. I managed to catch his attention on the next pass, and indicated the rear of the building where my truck was parked.

I stopped back in the house to retrieve my keys and a jacket, and then made my way out back. Once outside, I was quite happily surprised to find that the truck driver was far from 'plumber-butt' material. In fact, he was hot. I popped the hood on the truck and stepped back to give him room to set up the cables. I seized the opportunity to inspect the stud as he worked.

He was definitely a hot guy. About my age, twenty-two or so, he stood around six feet tall and one hundred sixty-five pounds with a nice compact built. He had the 'boy-next-door' appeal. He looked like he could have played football in high school, and he was very quickly getting my 'engine running.' Dressed in worn carpenter-style jeans, tennis shoes, and a "City Towing" work shirt, he definitely fit the blue-collar sexy image. Brown hair showed under a backwards blue New York cap. The patch above his shirt pocket read "Brian."

His clothes were dripping from the rain, no doubt he had been out in it all morning, and it only added to my attraction. The soaked white work shirt clung to his sculpted body, outlining his V-shaped back, from his broad, muscular shoulders down to his trim, tight waist. I wanted to rip off his clothes and fuck him on the hood of my truck. He didn't have a dry spot on him, the rain was dripping down his face as he hooked up the cables and quickly jump-started the truck.

I snapped back into reality as he handed me the invoice to sign. As he was putting back his equipment, an idea snuck into my head. Although it was a long shot at best, and an invitation to a gay-bashing at worst, I seized the opportunity. "Hey, Brian, do you have another run to make?" I asked, praying he didn't.

"No, it's noon; lunchtime," was his reply. "Why?"

My heart stopped. "Well, I feel kinda guilty that you had to come all the way out here just for this, and now your completely soaked." I said, in my best 'I'm-really-a-nice-guy-and-not-a-pervert-who-wants-to-screw-your-brains-out' voice. "Why don't you come in and dry off, and I'll make you lunch."

"Well, we're really not supposed to accept tips or anything from people, but I guess it would be okay...I'm really drenched." I thought I was going to have a heart attack on the spot.

As I led the way into the house, he stopped and pulled off his tennis shoes and socks at the door. "You have hardwood floors," he said "if I come in, I'll ruin them."

To get him inside, I'd have ripped up the floors and poured concrete, but I kept my cool. Now was my opportunity. "Strip off whatever is wet and I'll put it in the dryer...That way, you'll have dry clothes and won't drip on the floor. I'll go get you a towel; you can step into the bathroom over there if you want." I said as I started down the hall. I didn't want to miss his striptease, but I also didn't want to freak him out and make him leave.

"Hold on, you can take these with you." Apparently, Brian had no problem with me seeing him strip, and I wasn't going to argue.

"Okay." I replied, perhaps a bit too excitedly. As I watched, he popped open the first button on his shirt. I was hard just imagining what was to come.

An all to obvious sigh of excitement mixed with expectation escaped me, and Brian smiled. "I thought you might want to watch. You were checking me out while I jumped your truck."

Holy God, I had been found out. Now, I would die, in my own house, at the hands of the uber-hot tow truck driver. I took a step back, but decided to be brave. If I was going to be gay-bashed, I might as well push it as far as I could.

"Yeah, I did. I wanted to fuck your brains out on the hood of my truck. I want to rip your clothes off and fuck you 'till you scream," I said, with confidence I didn't know I had, and an obvious new taste for dirty talk.

"I thought so. Do it."

A fly could have knocked me over. "Wha? Huh? Ha? How? Wha?" I stammered, caught off guard by his response.

He smiled bigger. "You said you want to rip my clothes off and fuck me 'till I scream," he said. "I want you to. So, take me to the fucking bedroom, rip off my fucking clothes and fuck my fucking brains out. Unless you want to do it here on the floor."

I did not need to be told twice. I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him down the hall. What happened next was a scene straight out of a porn. I pulled him in the bedroom, grabbed his shirt and ripped it open. His broad, muscled chest and ripped stomach were amazing, and I wanted to spend the rest of the day licking him into submission. There was, however, more to do.

I pulled my t-shirt over my head and returned my attention to Brian. I pulled the shirt from his shoulders and ran my hands over his body; down his shoulders onto his sides, up his back. Consumed, I roughly pushed him onto the bed and unbuckled his belt, pulling it from the loops. "Don't worry," I told him, holding the belt doubled in my hand, "I won't use this unless you want me to." Brian smiled and licked his lips seductively.

Returning to his pants, I pulled open the button and unzipped the fly. Grabbing them by the legs, I pulled them off him, leaving him laying on the bed in his black boxer-briefs and backwards cap. Standing over him, I looked down at him with the desire to fuck him until he couldn't walk straight. The look on his face disclosed the same desire.

Unbuttoning my jeans, I let them drop to the floor. Then leaning over Brian, I took the waistband of his boxer-briefs and pulled them down his legs, tossing them aside. Brian lay naked on the bed, wearing nothing but his blue baseball cap and a smile that betrayed his desire. His muscled body glistened with sweat and the remnants of the rainstorm.

I motioned for him to come toward me and he crawled over to me on all-fours, looking up into my eyes. I pulled the cap from his head; he watched as I put it on and stared back down at him. Taking him by the shoulder, I pulled him off the bed, then pushed him, kneeling, onto the floor.

"Suck me," I said, and pushed my hard cock completely into his mouth. I took his head in my hands and began pounding my dick into his mouth. I fucked his face with abandon, shoving my cock into his mouth while pulling his head into me. His face collided with my stomach, my balls slapping his chin on each stroke, all the while his eyes staying locked with mine.

Grabbing him by his short hair, I pulled his head off my cock. I grabbed his arm and pulled him up to me, whispering in his ear. "I want to tie your hands to the bed and fuck your brains out."

"Do it," he whispered back. I pushed him onto his back on the bed, and grabbing his belt, straddled his chest. Looping his belt, I cinched his wrists together and slid the leather strap around the headboard. Then, grabbing his head again, I shoved my cock back into his warm, wet mouth. "Get me wet, baby, I'm gonna fuck the life out of you."

Pulling my dick from his mouth, I slid back to the bottom of the bed, and pushed his knees back to his shoulders. Spreading his cheeks, I lined my dick up with his hole. I slammed all seven inches into him, knocking the breath out of him. Before he could recover, I began pounding his ass, slamming my cock into his tight, hot hole with all the force I could muster.

Taking his ankles in my hands, I pressed his knees back to the bed even with his shoulders, spreading his ass wide and letting me plow him deeper. I pistoned my cock into his wide-open ass, feeling the heat and the tightness sourrounding my throbbing prick. I continued to ram him, harder and harder, until each thrust knocked the breath out of him.

Looking at him only made me fuck him harder. I looked down at this well-muscled stud, with his arms tied above his head, his legs spread wide, pushed back to his shoulders, whimpering as each thrust found it's mark, forcing the air from his lungs and eliciting a moan from deep within him. We were like animals, me fucking him into oblivion. As I pounded away at his ass, his eyes stayed locked with mine, confirming his desire.

I saw his toes clench, and his face twitch, and felt his ass clenched around my cock as he shot his load over his chiseled stomach. I continued to pound him as he came, watching as his shots matched my thrusts.

I pulled my dick from his tight, hot ass and let down his ankles. I wiped his cum off his stomach and used it to lube up my still throbbing cock. Grabbing him by his waist, I flipped him onto his stomach, looking at his broad, muscled shoulders, and his tight, well-fucked ass. I pushed him up onto his knees and elbows, leaving his wrists lashed to the headboard with his own belt. Climbing onto his back, I spread his knees with mine. Lining my cock up with his hole, I felt the warmth and tightness I was about to invade.

Again I shoved my entire cock into his tight, hot ass in one thrust, plowing him forward onto his chest. Lubricated with his cum, I resumed my fucking, grabbing his shoulders, pulling him back into my thrusts. We began a steady rhythm, me pounding into him with all my power, and him plowing back into me with all of his.

I felt Brian tense up and his ass tightened around my cock as he blew his second load. "Oh, God, yes! Fuck me!" he screamed. That was all I needed; with one last powerful blow, I shoved my cock into his ass and exploded, filling him with my cum. "Oh...Fuck...Yeah..." he whimpered.

I reached up and released his arms, and turned him over. "God, I've never been fucked like that," Brian panted.

"I told you I wanted to rip off your clothes and fuck your brains out," I said with a smirk.

"And you definitely did, dude. You can fuck my brains out anytime."

"I'll keep that in mind. And I'm keeping this hat to remember you by. I'll fuck a tow-truck driver every time I wear it, I promise."

"You'd better wear it a lot then."

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written by johndoe