Date: Mon, 30 Apr 2001 06:34:19 EDT
From: Keybedder@aol.com
Subject: "Weekend at the Car Wash"

WEEKEND AT THE CAR WASH by K. Nitsua. Copyright 2001 by the author.

"I tell you it's true," Eddie insisted. We were sitting over beers in the
Rainbow Cattle Company for the third successive weekend.

"I don't believe it," I replied. "You haven't even seen him with your own
eyes. And I get the feeling Dwayne's not exactly a reliable witness." I
liked Eddie a lot, and was hoping he felt the same about me. I'd been less
impressed by some of his friends.

We continued to argue amid the smoke and hubbub of the bar.

"C'mon, Eddie, you've got to admit it's a little hard to believe," I said,
as we headed out into the night some time later. "I've heard of cruising
the bars, the baths and the tearooms, but--a car wash?"

"Look, if you go down there you'll see it's the perfect setup. It's in that
new strip that they're just starting to develop between the Business-I and
the Interstate. They put in the road for condos but they haven't gone up
yet. This car wash is there, sitting by itself, woods all around. And it's
twenty-four/seven.

"Anyway, Dwayne says this guy drives in late at night on weekends and
washes his car in the far stall wearing only cutoffs or Speedos. If he sees
anyone giving him the eye he gets naked. Pretty obvious what he's after."

"Guess so, if it's true," I conceded.

"Dwayne says he's cute."

I snorted. "Dwayne's standards are hardly Ivy League. More like open
admissions."

"Okay, I've had enough," Eddie said, getting into his car.

"You don't want to come back with me?" I said, suddenly realizing I'd blown
it.

"Funny thing, I'm just not in the mood to apply to Harvard tonight." He
started the engine, then leaned toward me on the passenger side. "Besides,
I don't have the right tools to pry open your tight ass. Later, buddy."

"Give me a break, Eddie," I protested, but he was already pulling out.

I watched him go. Okay, I'd been snooty about Dwayne. But getting naked at
a car wash? What kind of guy would do such a thing? Probably an old,
desperate troll. But maybe not.

I hated to admit it, but my curiosity had been aroused. As I stood there in
the street, faced with going home alone, I found I'd made up my mind. I'd
check the place out when I got a chance.

It was several days before that happened. I went one afternoon later that
week after work, driving down the access road by the interstate, then
swinging off onto the newly paved spur that as yet led mostly to
nowhere. The car wash was on a small plot of land on the right, about a
quarter of a mile in, halfway between the access road and the business
thoroughfare the road eventually intersected. The sign on the pole was
electric blue and white, and looked distinctly out of place standing in the
middle what until recently had been woody, undeveloped land.

The car wash was ugly and utilitarian. It consisted of eight stalls made of
cinder blocks set in the middle of a large paved lot, with the detergent
dispensers, automatic hoses and other equipment installed on the left wall
of each. A couple of giant vacuum cleaners were set up in back, against the
wooden fence that went around the entire property, except for the entrance
in front. That made this wash different from others I'd seen. From the
street you couldn't tell whether any stall was occupied. You had to drive
into the lot to see.

Someone could actually do what Dwayne claimed he'd seen him doing.

Eddie didn't call that week, and I didn't see him Friday night when I went
by the bar. No great loss, I tried to tell myself, but I still felt
bummed. Some of my other friends were there but hadn't seen him either. I
left early, a little after eleven, and stood in the street. I knew what I
wanted to do, but still briefly resisted doing it. Finally I gave in to my
baser self and drove toward the interstate.

The harsh fluorescent lights of the car wash glared at the side of the
otherwise dark road. I pulled into the lot and saw that, contrary to what I
had thought, this wasn't a totally unpopular time to wash a car. At least
three of the stalls were occupied. All of the owners were fully clothed and
appeared engaged in their legitimate business. None were particularly
attractive.

This was sure turning out to be a dull Friday night. I thought about
leaving, but I wasn't quite ready to give up and go home just yet. My own
little Honda was pretty grimy. I drove into one of the unoccupied stalls
and dug into the ashtray for loose change. Finding enough money to get
things started, I went to work. It wasn't long before I was busily soaping,
rinsing and scrubbing my vehicle, trying to keep ahead of the numbers on
the digital timer counting down the seconds. It was like a game--I had to
really hoof it, and barely managed to finish rinsing everything off before
I heard the beep indicating the end of my time. I stood, holding the
dripping hose, panting from my exertions. Though the night air was cool, I
felt hot, and there were wet patches on my shirt from accidentally hitting
myself with the spray from the hose. Washing the car naked wasn't such a
bad idea when it came right down to it.

The thought made me remember why I had come out here. Hanging up the hose
on the wall hook, I walked to the end of the stall I was in and looked out
to both sides. I was in the fifth furthest stall away from the entrance. I
strolled down past the first four--they were now empty. I raised my head
and listened, and caught the sound of spraying water and other activity at
the far end. Someone seemed to be in the very last stall. My curiosity was
aroused. If you were going to cruise the car wash, that was the best place
to go--plenty of time to hear another car coming into the lot and down the
row.

There was a grassy strip that went all the way around between the asphalt
and the tall wooden fence. I began to walk down the row of stalls toward
the end, keeping close to the edge of the paved lot, near the grass. Here
the lights were not quite so penetrating and there were pools of shadow.

I kept walking forward until the last stall and its occupant came into
view. The vehicle was parked so that its front was facing me--the owner
must have driven it in from behind the stall. It was a large car, one of
those late-model gas guzzlers from the seventies, shiny and well-maintained
despite its age.

The man washing it was as busy as I had been and didn't see me at first. He
was tall, his body slender, his chest and stomach hard and smooth. In fact,
he was smooth all over--it was easy to tell under the stall lights, since
he was wearing a baseball cap, thongs on his feet and a pair of short, snug
denim cutoffs, and that was it.

Looking more closely, I saw an appetizing sight. The dark tip of what was
clearly a substantial cock nestled next to his thigh, peeking out of one
leg of his shorts. This had to be the man Dwayne was talking about. He had
been right, I admitted to myself--this guy was far from unattractive.

At that moment the driver in the stall raised his head and caught sight of
me, standing in the shadows. He gave me a long, frank stare. I felt the
heat rise in my own body and travel down to my crotch. My own cock
stiffened in my pants, and almost unconsciously, I cupped it in my right
hand.

The man continued brandishing the hose, casually rinsing off the soap on
his car, every so often casting another glance in my direction. I saw that
his cock had grown and part of the shaft was now exposed. I stood, rubbing
myself, letting him know I was interested and waiting.

Finally, the timer beeped and the stream from the hose dribbled to a
halt. The man in the stall hung it up and turned toward the driver side of
his car. He opened the door as if to get in, and I sighed with
disappointment. Was this guy just a cocktease, getting his thrills by
seeing other men lusting after him?

Just then, the driver turned to face me, his body partially hidden by the
open door, his feet visible underneath. A smile slowly spread across his
lean face. I saw his shorts drop to the ground around his ankles.

No one else was around now. I walked rapidly forward and around the open
door of the car. He stood, naked, his cock semihard, rising from dark blond
pubic hair. I closed my right fist around it, a satisfying handful, and
looked him in the eye for the first time.

Neither of us said a word as I stroked him to full erection. I opened my
mouth, letting him see the tip of my tongue, and he nodded. I knelt,
grasping his thighs, and began to suck, hard and intensely, moving my head
back and forth, tasting the salty precum from his slit as it flowed into my
mouth.

The other man remained silent, but I heard his breathing quicken and
deepen. He grasped the sides of my head and began to fuck my face, the cock
banging the back of my throat. Between thrusts I quickly gasped in air,
trying not to choke on this faceful of sex flesh. My hands roved to his
hard, narrow butt, the muscles working as he continued to thrust into my
mouth.

"Nice," he whispered.

I needed a break, so I managed to extricate myself and began to lick his
veined shaft with long strokes of my tongue. I washed his balls while I
jacked him off with one hand. Soon, though, his hand pressed urgently at
the back of my head.

"Take it."

Obediently I let him slide back into my mouth. He began to thrust with
renewed urgency, so that I had to grip his buttocks hard to keep my
balance. My eyes began to water but I stayed with him, thrilled by his
need. Low sounds began to rise from his body.

"Going to cum."

"Mm hmm," I said, indicating my assent. He thrust still harder, and I felt
his cock come to life in my mouth, the first hot spurts hitting the back of
my throat. I swallowed quickly as the flood filled my mouth. Some of the
fluid ran out and down my chin. I heard his gasps above me--casting a quick
glance upward, I saw that his head was thrown back, his mouth open, his
eyes closed in ecstasy.

His thrusts began to slow and he released his grip on my head, letting his
breath go in a heaving sigh. I kept his softening cock in my mouth, taking
as much of the load as I could, cleaning it with my tongue. Finally I
released him, wiped my chin with my hand and looked up. He was smiling down
at me.

Before either of us could say anything we heard the sound of a car turning
into the wash entrance. I stood quickly as he pulled up his shorts, moving
away to what I hoped was a innocent distance--two buddies just having a
casual chat at the car wash, in the wee hours of what was now Saturday
morning.

Fortunately the car turned into one of the first stalls. I turned back to
him. He smiled. "Thanks," he said. Now that I was able to look at him at
leisure, I saw that he was older than I was--maybe in his late thirties,
early forties. No matter--he was fine.

I reached out and grasped his package through the denim. "Thank *you*. Hot
man. Hot cock."

He chuckled. "You're good for my ego."

"I'm serious. I want some more of this."

He shook his head. "Not tonight. I'm afraid I'm not quite the stud horse I
used to be." A roguish look appeared on his face. "What are you doing
tomorrow night?"

I laughed. "You've got to have the cleanest car in town. Tell you what,
it's a date--on one condition."

"What's that?"

"I'll bring a rubber."

He laughed. "Straightforward guy. I like that. Okay, deal. A little after
midnight?"

Almost precisely twenty-four hours later I drove back down the darkened
turnoff, my mouth dry with excitement and nerves. I wore very little
clothing--old Nikes, a loose pair of nylon gym shorts and a T-shirt. I
remembered the hot encounter the previous evening and hoped my car wash man
would be there to give me what I needed.

I turned into the parking lot and immediately headed for the last stall. He
was there, all right, in the same old car. He must have washed it again, as
the concrete floor of the stall was wet, but he wasn't doing it now, just
sitting in the front seat. He wasn't wearing his ball cap tonight and I saw
that his hair was thinning. Somehow this made him seem sexier.

He saw me and waved, his lean, square-jawed face breaking into a smile.

I didn't really feel like going through the pretense of washing my car
again, so I simply parked near the grass, got out and walked toward his
car. The driver's side window was open. He had one arm propped outside and
I saw that his shoulders were bare. I reached the window. "Hey," I said,
looking inside, then stopped short.

He was stark naked on the front seat, stroking his cock and grinning at my
reaction.

"You washed the car like that?" I managed.

"Nope, in my bike shorts. Got done, decided to get a little more
comfortable while I waited for you." He reached out and grasped one of my
forearms, stroking the hair on it with his thumb. This simple gesture sent
a thrill through me. "I'm glad you came," he said.

I was struck by his sincerity. "Sure," I said. "Why wouldn't I have come?"

"Lots of guys wouldn't have," he said simply. It occurred to me that he was
probably right--after all, we weren't friends or anything, just two men
with raging hormones. We didn't even know each other's names.

"Well, I'm here."

He looked at my swelling crotch. "Looking good too. Let me put these on
before I get out. I may be an exhibitionist, but I'm not stupid."

After struggling for a bit in the front seat to get the shorts on over his
long legs, he opened the door and stood up. "Follow me." He shut the car
door and started toward the fence at the back of the lot. I watched his
butt muscles working in the elastic cloth as I walked after him.

He got to the fence. I saw that one of the vertical slats had been removed
and was resting on the ground. He lifted the board, revealing a narrow
opening. Standing to one side, he held the board up and gestured to me with
his head. I stepped through and he followed, being careful to set the loose
board back in front of the gap, so that we were hidden from view.

We were directly behind the wash, in an open field that turned into woods a
short distance behind us. We turned to each other in the dim light, our
breathing quickening. He reached forward and pulled me into his arms. The
next moment I felt his lips press against mine, his tongue flicking into my
mouth. I kissed him back, my hands sliding down his back and underneath the
waistband of his shorts, pushing them down his thighs. He pulled my T-shirt
up, breaking the kiss and running his tongue over my bare chest and
stomach, tickling my navel, then taking one of my nipples into his mouth. I
moaned softly.

"Damn, you're hot," he said.

"So are you," I replied.

He kissed me again, pushing me against the fence. "Got that rubber?"

I took it out of my pocket and handed it to him, then unfastened my shorts
and let them fall. My hard cock sprang free. He knelt and sucked on it for
a few moments, then stood up and tore the package open. He unrolled the
condom over his jutting pole and put his hands on my waist, urging me to
turn around. I obeyed, bending at the waist and placing my hands against
the rough wood of the fence.

His finger probed my ass, feeling the lube I had applied before leaving the
house tonight. I then felt something bigger and blunter against my hole,
seeking entry. The next moment searing heat and fullness hit as his cock
penetrated me. I bit my lip to stifle a cry of pain, gritting my teeth and
waiting for it to pass. He sensed my distress and waited a few moments
before he pushed in further. I felt myself opening under the relentless
pressure, until his full length was inside me and his pubes were pressing
on my butt.

He began to move then, sliding back and forth, at first slowly, then faster
and faster until he was plowing my ass at a brutal pace. I knew how to take
it, though, and was loving every moment.

"Fuck me."

"You got it, stud," he said, reaching underneath and taking hold of my hard
cock. He began to stroke it in rhythm with his thrusts. I couldn't hold out
for long against this double whammy. In a few moments I began to gasp
harshly as I filled his hand with my hot seed. I heard his ragged breathing
as well and knew that he was emptying his own load into the rubber deep in
my bowels.

He brought his hand, filled with my cum, up to my mouth, inviting me to
lick it up. I obliged, but before I was finished he spread his fingers and
smeared the rest over my face, a deliciously nasty move. He pulled out
then, and turned me around with an urgent pressure of his hands. Once more
his face descended on mine, his tongue shooting out and licking the jizz he
had rubbed on me off my forehead and cheeks. Then he pressed his mouth once
more to mine and fed me the rest of my own load, mixed with his saliva.

He backed me against the fence and leaned his full weight on me, his head
resting on my shoulder. We stood there, our chests heaving, our pants down
around our ankles, my T-shirt pulled up to my armpits, both of us stinking
of sweat and cum.

At last he spoke. "Damn."

I chuckled. "Agreed."

He raised his head and looked at me. "What's your name, anyway?"

"Troy."

"Troy, I'm Jim. I've been here quite a few weekends, but I've never met
anyone like you."

I looked at him. "Never knew anyone who cruised a car wash. Got to give you
points for originality."

He chuckled. "Funny guy. I live near here. Want to follow me home and have
a beer?"

I kissed him lightly, then bent to pull up my shorts. "That'd be nice,
thanks. Beats the bar for sure," I said, smoothing down my T-shirt.

"Who needs all that smoke and bullshit," Jim said, pulling off the rubber,
dressing himself in turn and pushing at the loose board through the gap in
the fence. He stepped through first, then turned and offered his hand to
me. I grinned, shaking my head, and took it, completely won over by this
courtly gesture in the oddest of surroundings. He continued to hold my hand
in the darkness as we walked back toward our cars.

It was weeks before I went back to the bar, and when I did, I ran into
Eddie. He was volubly glad to see me, and openly curious about where I'd
been. I didn't enlighten him.

I did sit and talk to him for a while, just to be polite. "By the way," I
said at one point, "Remember that car wash we were talking about? I checked
it out."

"You did? Anything happen?"

"Nah. I saw the guy Dwayne was talking about though. Nothing special," I
said, suppressing a smile.

"Figures. Dwayne says he hasn't seen him in weeks anyway. Guess he gave
up."

"Guess so." I got up.

"Hey, where you going, buddy?"

I paused and looked at him. "Eddie, you know what you said about Harvard?
Well, you were right. I relaxed my admission standards."

I left then, leaving him looking slack-jawed after me. I left the bar and
walked down the street to my Honda, sitting there waxed and spiffy next to
the curb. I got in, started the engine, and headed for Jim's place.

I'm such a lucky guy, really. My boyfriend is sweet, cute, hung, and handy
with a hose. What more could a man want?

END