Date: Tue, 19 May 2009 20:31:19 -0400 (EDT)
From: Clark Building <clarkbldg@earthlink.net>
Subject: Aerospace Lessons

About a year after I started working at McDonnell-Douglas Aircraft in Long
Beach, I got into a routine of going to the men's room late in the evening
on Swing-shift, where I would jerk off.  Masturbation was something I did
regularly as a young man.  I worked in Building 4 as a Heavy Handformer,
unrelated to my masturbation.  The restroom was in the northwest corner of
the building and was a long row of stalls without doors.  I always went to
the very last stall so no one would be walking by to see me jack off.  I
always took a section of newspaper to justify my lengthy stay and to use as
a shield if someone like my leadman came looking for me and was rude enough
to actually look while I had my hard cock in hand.  I would hold my cock in
my right hand and the newpaper in my left hand ready to cover.

After many sessions, I noticed one night that there was a hole in the
partition between my stall and the next one, a small hole about a quarter
of an inch in diameter.  I didn't notice it before, but it may have been
there all along or it might have been drilled more recently.  I didn't
know. It was positioned so a person in the next stall could sit on the
commode and comfortably look at the lap area of the person in my stall.  At
the first moment I noticed the hole, I noticed also that someone was
looking through the hole at me.  It could have been the movement of their
eye or the change in light coming through the hole that alerted me to the
existence of the hole.  Not sure.  In any case, my first reaction was to
cover myself with the section of newspaper that I held for that very
purpose.

But then I began to think it over.  This person was not out to catch me or
embarrass me or turn me in for my bad conduct.  They just want to see me
jerk off, I thought, what else could it be.  So, after pondering that
perspective, and being more than a little aroused at their sexually charged
curiosity and interest, I took the newspaper down and jacked off in full
view of my new fan.  Maybe he had been there many times before, unnoticed,
I had no clue.  But then it all got more exciting for me.  I loved being
watched by my unknown voyeur.  For several weeks I performed for him and
let him go out satisfied, or whatever, without letting on that I knew he
was watching.

Then one night, hearing him walk away, I leaned out and saw him,
recognizing immediately who he was, and he looked back to see me looking at
him.  From then on, I walked by his work station and smiled at him on my
way to jack off and soon he would follow me into the restroom and take up
his watching post.  I wondered if he jacked off while watching me, I never
knew.  Soon thereafter, he would try to follow me out of the plant after
work, trying to talk to me.  Mainly because I was young, fit, tan and good
looking, I avoided him.  I was pretty in comparison to him, with my long
blond hair and blue eyes.  He was a little older, kinda chubby, and rather
homely, to be kind about it.

For weeks, maybe months, he tried to get me to talk to him and I always
brushed him off with remarks like, "go away" and "leave me alone."  But
still, I smiled and jerked off for him in the plant and enjoyed having his
lustful attentions.  I was the proverbial cock teaser.  I knew girls in
High School that would get guys excited and then be aloof and unkind in
their rejections.  I was doing much the same to another guy, but not really
conscious of my mean and inconsiderate behavior.  Sexual attraction between
guys was not familiar to me, or I was just a thoughtless jerk, maybe both.

It should NOT have come as a surprise to me that something would happen
with him, but one night I went to my car, which I parked in nearly the same
place every night, and he was waiting.  The shift ended about midnight so
it was dark, cold, and wet as I started to get into my car, when suddenly
the side door of a van next to my car opened and my new boyfriend threw me
inside the van.  He was bigger and stronger than I had ever anticipated him
being.  Before I could really respond or try to get to my feet, he had
closed the van door and was putting duct tape on my mouth, binding my hands
and feet together with the same tape, which he had several lengths already
cut, hanging from the ceiling.  I felt really caught off guard and hardly
put up any resistance at all as he overwhelmed me and had me quickly bound
and silenced.  Naturally I feared that he would beat me, or seriously
injure me, or even kill me.  I was terrified of his unknown intentions and
my own previous nasty treatment of him added to my anxious fright.

He drove out of the parking lot and around some other part of the plant
until we were in a dark alley adjacent to Veterans Stadium roughly a block
from McDonnell-Douglas.  In those days and at those hours, it was a place
of seclusion and serious privacy for all manner of sinister or romantic
acts.  I knew approximately where we were, but once the engine stopped and
the lights were turned off, it was pitch black in the back of the van and I
could not see anything.  I heard him move and a flashlight shined in my
eyes and he began to speak, for the first time.

"You know what a bitch you are?" he asked.  My mouth was taped shut; I made
some inane noises, not knowing even if I should try to answer.

"All I ever wanted was to be friends and you treated me like shit!" he
ranted with perfect reason.

"Now, you're gonna get fucked whether you want it or not."

"Your sissy-boy face is gonna have my cum all over it and you're gonna have
a good taste of it."

"If I have to hurt you, I will."

"Why you have to be so fucking stuck-up and mean?"

"I wanted to take you places and buy you stuff.  I wanted to suck you and
kiss you and love you."

"My name is Aaron, do you even know my name?" A long pause and several
minutes of silence in the dark, then,

"Are you cold? I have a blanket."  He pulled a blanket off the passenger
seat and again the flashlight blinded me as he waved it around trying to
spread the blanket over me.  He seemed to go mellow and kind for a minute,
finally asking me if I would agree to keep my voice down if he removed the
duct tape.  I nodded "Yes" into the flashlight and his hand gently tugged
the tape off my face.

I said "thank you."  And then I said, "I am sorry I was mean to you.  My
name is Clark and I am glad to finally meet you, Aaron.  Please don't hurt
me."

I was doing my best to defuse what I thought could be a time-bomb.  I was
vulnerable, contrite, and still scared of what could happen.  Getting
fucked sounded like a good time, considering what other things angry guys
can do.  Multiple stab wounds came to mind.  Suffocation and strangulation
are popular.  Beheadings more rare, but alarmingly effective.  If all the
guy wants is his dick in my ass, I thought, let the evening begin.  All in
all, aside from the rude abduction, the guy had a legitimate gripe.  Maybe
we should talk.

 "Aaron," I started, "I guess I made it difficult for you.  Sorry."

"Do you really mean that?" he asked, "or are you just saying it so I will
leave you alone and let you go?"

"Well, honestly, I am scared of you, but if you will lie down here with me
under the blanket for awhile and make me feel safe and comfortable, I might
like getting cum all over my face.  You know, I loved having you watch me
jack off.  I might like to jack you off.  Is that the sort of thing you had
in mind?"

"I thought of that," he replied, "and lots of other stuff."

 "Lie down here," I invited, suddenly feeling in control.  I rolled to one
side and felt him groping in the dark as he got under the blanket.  The
floor was padded with a sleeping bag and other padding of some kind beneath
that.  Comfortable and warm with his body next to mine.  He smelled better
than I expected and I was relieved that his breath was not obnoxious, like
so many guys.  From his breath, I found him facing me and pushed my head
forward, surprising him with a light kiss on the mouth, which he quickly
returned.

"Now you're all friendly, huh?" he remarked.

Trying to be cute, I said, "Well, you got my attention."  He chuckled
amiably, tensions fading.  I was relaxing and he put his arms around me and
kissed me again, our tongues touched, we tasted each other.

 "Do you still want to fuck me, Aaron?" I cooed.

"I'm gonna do it, Bitch.  You got it coming," he said with a confident and
impressive resolve.

"Oh, Aaron, I am going to have your baby," I laughed.  And we kissed again,
long, deep, very nice, tongues all around.  He started undoing my belt and
pulling down my pants.  I would have helped but for the tape holding my
hands and ankles together.  I started to ask that he remove the tape, but I
decided to let him release me as he wished.  Besides, it's exciting to get
fucked in bondage, try it.  My hands were taped in front of me, not behind
my back, so when he pulled down my pants and shorts, he needed only to
release my ankles to spread my legs and remove my lower garments.  Somehow
he had dropped his pants while removing mine and rather quickly he got my
legs apart, me face down, and something cold and runny going down the crack
of my ass.  "Lotion," he said, as he mounted me and a stiff insistent cock
began probing my anus.  Having never seen or felt his cock before, I was
made apprehensive by what I felt between my ass cheeks, a substantial
member I surmised and the pain began at once.  Experienced at getting
anally fucked, I was nevertheless not a loose lay by any means, and it took
awhile for him to gain entry and for me to catch my breath and submit to
the initial pain and discomfort.  He started slowly in and out and the
lubricating lotion got where it was needed, smoothing the strokes and the
stabbing pain reduced to a constant burn, a throbbing ache that felt good
while it hurt at the same time.  Nothing quite like getting fucked in the
ass.

"Oh, Baby, fuck me!" I invited, as he began with powerful thrusts, "Fuck me
hard."  He wasn't saying anything, but I knew from the rigidity of his
mighty cock and the power of his strokes that he enjoyed my ass and my
enthusiasm for his performance.

 "Oh, Aaron, punish me for being such a bad girl.  Fuck the shit out of
me. I want your cock; give me all you got.  Fuck me hard!  Oh, My God, you
are just what I need!"  The blanket fell away from us but we were soaked
with sweat and working hard.  He picked up the pace and I knew he was about
to ejaculate.  The thought triggered my own orgasm and I unloaded all over
the sleeping bag.  A minute later his grunts and rapid thrusts told me he
was getting off in me and then he relaxed and slowed to a stop.

"Thanks for stopping by," I quipped.  He finally laughed.  We kissed.  I
told him truthfully that it was terrific and we would have more later.

"You're not going to the Police?" he asked, seeming sincere.  "No, Sweetie,
never. But we're not getting married and I'm not having your baby."

"I am sorry I had to kidnap your ass, just to teach you a lesson," he
pleaded.

"Well, now, Aaron, you can't go around doing that, but I am happy to make
your acquaintance.  It was fun.  You have a nice dick and I want more of
it. So, what the hell, buy me a beer."

"Too late," he said, "Bars are closed."  Christ almighty, it was almost
daylight.

"Sorry I was such a stuck-up Bitch.  You deserved better."

He took the tape off my wrists and drove me back to my car. That spring and
summer we had lots of beers together and I slept with him at his apartment
many times.  He fucked the shit out of me for months, but gradually we
tired of each other and went our separate ways.  After I left
McDonnell-Douglas I never saw him again.  Sometimes when I jack off, I
think of him looking at me through that little hole in the restroom
partition.  A fucking pervert, just like me.

Part two:

After I "made friends" with Aaron, my leadman, I think his name was
Demitri, Demi something, seemed to take an interest in my private life.
Demi had for a long time always found ways to mention the size of his cock,
bragging more or less, at least he did it when I was around to hear it.  He
would relate instances when a new girl he dated or his ex-wife would say
something, however insignificant, about the impressive manhood he
possessed. I think he said once, something like, "My ex told her lawyer
about me and said that she hates my guts, but misses my dick."  Always,
something about his big dick and always seemingly said when I could hear
it.  I admit, I got curious about it after a awhile.  Maybe that was his
intent.  Demi was a tall, dufus, nerd type with a slight build and half
bald head.  About forty years old, anyone would just assume that he was
married, which, he had been for about fifteen years.  One of the things he
was always talking about was his Kaiser-Frazer sportscar, which I
considered a piece of shit, but he seemed to love it.  He had seen me and
Aaron together and likely figured out that I was as queer as my swishy long
haired appearance would suggest.  At least nothing else suggested anything
but sheer fagothood.  Now, Demi was clearly a straight guy, always telling
about young women he was getting naked with: "I told her we would play
Lion.  She would get down on all fours and roar.  I would throw the meat to
her."  I had my doubts that he was getting laid at all.  For one thing, he
was starting to get suggestive with me.  A straight guy with all the women
he wants is not that likely to flirt with someone he thinks is queer,
unless he is missing something he has a secret letch for, like maybe he
wants to try a little gay sex act.  One Friday night he had asked me to
meet him at a nearby bar called the Zansabuku.  A few beers on him after
work.  I was game.  I knew the beer would lessen his inhibitions and he
would make moves on me.  I planned to make him an avid bi-sexual.

He didn't want to be seen leaving the plant together because he was my
supervisor, so I parked a block from the bar and walked there where he was
waiting at the door.  The place was crowded, no place to sit, so we stood
around drinking beer from bottles and trying to make small talk over the
noise.  Three or four beers went down quickly enough and I told him I was
ready for a ride in that dumbass "sportscar" of his.  We had previously
discussed why I thought so little of his car.  He felt otherwise and was
certain that I would change my mind if I took a ride in it.  He kept it
waxed up and shiny, but it still looked ugly to me.  He drove fast down
Lakewood Blvd., around the traffic-circle and onto Pacific Coast Highway,
headed for his apartment in Seal Beach.  I had told him in the bar that I
wanted to see that cock that he was so proud of.

"What would you like to do with it?" he had asked, with a big smile.
Smiling back, I had informed him that I would do anything he was man enough
to make me do.  Apparently he had some ideas in that regard, because he was
not wasting any time getting me to his place.  I looked forward to him
earning his "Leadman" title.  Under my denim work clothes I was wearing
lavender colored frilly nylon panties, had my toe-nails painted hot pink,
and had a tube of red lipstick in my pocket.  I had sprayed my crotch with
Zen cologne by Shesheido, something most men like.  When we got to his
apartment building, he was sneaking me in, because he didn't want his
neighbors to know he was having a male visitor.  Once inside, he thought we
should have another beer and listen to some soft music.  He came back with
the beer, but forgot about the music because I had stripped down to my
panties and put on the red lipstick.  Immediately, I tell you, the man was
all over me like stink on shit.  His tongue was in my mouth before I could
say any of the clever come-on lines that I had planned to utter.  His hands
were all over my body as he hugged, stroked, licked, and kissed my neck, my
chest, my belly button. And, most exciting for me, his sense of smell and
the Zen cologne was taking his face lower and lower where my little stiff
prick was waiting to introduce Mr. Straight Guy to the delicious art of
cock sucking.  It took a little while and my sweet girlish coaxing and
squealing, but down he went and in the end he could not resist.  Most
straight guys want to try cock sucking, they just want assurance that
nobody will find out about it.  How gay they feel afterwards is just a
matter of their own psyche and their own knowledge of how much they long to
do it again.  Some swear they will never do it again, but time passes and
the urge grows into a hunger that becomes an obsession.  It's habit
forming.

So, yeah, we went down on each other most of the night, his cock lived up
to his bragging (big, pretty, very stiff) and only getting tired and sleepy
put an end to it for that night.  In the morning, a shower together led to
his first pussy-boy fuck, tore me a new one, and, if I had to guess, that
clenched it for him.  Men, or at least certain girly men, were now on his
menu of sexual treats.  For sure, I was on his menu.  Our work relationship
was suddenly much different.

I had a new task at the plant.  Demi would send me to get "tools" which
were framework shapes mounted on wooden fixtures.  In "handforming," the
aluminum parts being made had to be finally shaped to fit snugly on the
"tool" before being heat treated.  Once the metal was heat treated, it
would be too rigid and too strong to bend or shape further.  Anyhow, Demi
would send me to fetch the "tools" which were stored around the plant in
old concrete bunkers that had been bomb shelters during World War Two.  The
bunkers were unlighted and crowded with stored fixtures, but there was a
system for finding the right numbered "tool."  But it took time and a good
flashlight to find things.

Demi would sometimes go with me to look for a "tool" or he would show up
there while I was looking.  We would be alone there in the dark, dusty
bunkers, his big cock needing my hungry mouth on a regular basis.
Sometimes he would suck me too or fuck my tight ass.  I learned to take it
quietly, breathing heavy, and grunting low, as he fucked me until I thought
I might pass out.  He was very energetic for an older guy and I liked
working for him in that capacity.  He was always considerate and saw that I
got my rocks off too, if that was what I wanted.  Most times, I just wanted
to be of service.  His neighbors got to know me, but not what my role was
in his home and in his bed.  A nice quiet pussy-boy is what he needed.  Can
you say, "OH, MY GOD, YES," in a whisper?