Date: Mon, 23 Aug 2004 14:10:07 -0700 (PDT)
From: Bryan Thompson <brymant@yahoo.com>
Subject: Primed at the Pump

Readers may feel free to email me at brymant@yahoo.com You may also read
my other stories "Getting in Shape" and "Yes Sir, Professor"

Chapter One

The whole scene reminded me of a 1960s movie, driving across Rte. 66
through the heartland. I'd decided to drive across country just to be
able to say I'd done it. I was ending a relationship in New York and
decided to start over in Los Angeles. Four days of tooling across the
country in my convertible had bronzed my skin and bleached my hair. By
late afternoon I was hot, thirsty and running low on gas. I was also
horny, but short of humping a cactus, I doubted there was anything I
could do about that in the middle of the desert. Albuquerque was still
at least two hours away when I spotted a gas station appearing on the
horizon. I decided to fill up the car and get a Coke and take care of
two of my problems.

No one immediately appeared as I sat at the pump, so I sounded the car
horn. "Get out to the pump kid!" I heard a gruff voice say. In a scene
that could have walked right out of my fantasies, a Greek god wheeled out
from under the car in the service bay. I watched and squinted as he
pulled himself to his feet and wiped his greasy hands on his skin tight
jeans. He had a broad muscular chest, so beautiful that I almost forgot
to check out his basket. He push his tousled curly hair out of his eyes
and started towards my car. "Put your shirt on loverboy!" I heard the
unseen speaker growl again. The young Adonis turned back and took a
service uniform shirt from the hook. "No! I screamed inwardly, don't
cover up that chest before you get over here." He pulled the shirt on
but didn't button it. As he walked over I was torn between watching his
gait and the way that the bulge in his jeans shifted with each step and
replaying the last phrase in my mind. Why had the boss called him
"Loverboy" when there was a male at the pump? Was there any hope?
Doubtful.

He looked at me and I met his glance, lingering longer than necessary in
case he was looking for a hint. "Fill it up?" He finally asked. "Uh,
yes." I stammered. "Matt" the oval on his uniform shirt read. As he
turned to retrieve the gasoline nozzle, I tried to get my first look at
his ass, but his untucked shirt obscured it from view. He started the
pump and then picked up the window washing squeegee. Man, when is the
last time I'd even had someone pump my gas back east, let alone wash my
windshield. I really felt in a time warp. "Wash your windshield?" he
asked and eagerly I nodded, again trying to read his bright blue eyes.
Was there a hint of a playful dance in them? Or was it wishful
thinking. He stopped by the side of the car and leaned over the side to
the windshield. My arm had been resting on the top of the car door and
he leaned up against it, pushing his bulging crotch into my arm. Was it
an accident or a hint? He didn't back away, in fact, he seemed to be dry
humping my arm as he meticulously cleaned my windshield. My own dick
started to grow as I kept my arm in place and watched his shirt fall open
as he cleaned my windshield.

The gas pump clicked off and he straightened up and replaced the nozzle
on the pump. He walked back to me. I was acting like a giddy school
girl staring at him. Could this Adonis possibly be for real? Was he
coming on to me? I looked up at him and met his eyes. He grinned and
winked at me. There was a long pause... "Uh, that'll be $28.50." He
said. "Oh, uh, yeah..." I answered and started digging for my wallet.
When I looked back up at him, I could have sworn he had been looking down
at my own bulging crotch. I fished out two twenties and handed them to
him. "Just a minute" he said and turned and sauntered into the station.

While he was gone, I berated myself "Settle down you big homo - what are
you going to do? Jump in right here in front of his boss in the gas
station. Just calm down and get back on the road. He was gone several
minutes and then I watched him return with my change. Happily the hot
desert wind blew his work shirt open as he returned to my car and I got
another glimpse of his big pectoral muscles. He counted out the money
into my palm. "Thanks" I stammered again as he finished. But just as he
said "Forty" he set something else into my palm. I pulled back my hand
and looked - a grimy key chain marked "Men's room." My heart skipped a
beat as I looked up at him. He nodded his head. Could it be? Was I
about to be the luckiest guy in the western hemisphere?

Without a word, he turned and walked away. I gulped and watched him. I
replayed the events in my mind. It was a come-on, wasn't it?! I had to
find out! I pulled my convertible over to the side and nonchalantly got
out of the car walked across the front of the station. I glanced inside
trying to get a look at the unseen voice to scope out what our chances
were. I turned past the open garage doors, stole another glance at the
pump boy who didn't even turn around. Had I imagined the whole thing? I
went into the station and found "Jack" an older, grumpy, swarthy looking
man, apparently the owner getting some money out of the cash register.
"Uh, could I have change for the Coke machine?" I asked. "Sure Mac." He
said. I handed him a dollar and he handed me four quarters. He brushed
past me and called towards the garage. "I'm headed into town for those
parts - keep your eye on the pumps and the cash register!" he called to
the attendant again in his gruff voice.

Well, that takes care of one problem, I thought to myself as I slowly
purchased a bottle of pop and walked back to the men's room. Timing my
arrival so that I could watch the dust trail behind Jack's pick-up truck
headed up the highway. I hadn't seen any sign of Matt as I'd passed in
front of the garage again. Was I out of my mind? I arrived at the
restroom door, convinced I'd imagined the whole thing, but I fitted the
key into the lock and turned it, cautiously pushing the door open. I'll
never forget the sight that greeted me, nor will I ever forget what it
led to. Standing leaning against the wall by the sink was the incredible
body of the gas station attendant, only now the work shirt was gone again
and his work pants lay on the floor by his feet. Staring me in the face
was a huge, erect penis. Matt grinned, "Fill it up?" he asked.

To be continued.