Date: Mon, 21 Jul 2008 17:46:08 -0700 (PDT)
From: Gunter Ragen <gruntraq@yahoo.com>
Subject: JB Truck Service Part 1

JB Truck Service Part 1

By Gruntraq - Comments welcome gruntraq@yahoo.com

The summer after I graduated high school I went to work at JB Truck
Service. It was a small greasy run down repair shop and parts store for
diesel rigs on the west side of town. The place was in a shitty section of 
the industrial district that only truckers, hookers and crack dealers hung
out.

My dad had a trucking company and I had always been handy helping him with
his trucks, so he talked the owner into giving me a job. They set me up
working the parts counter and being an all around go-for. It was kind of
cool because I was able to hang out with a bunch of roughneck guys all day
who did nothing but talk about fucking, sex, fucking, and more sex. And
they treated me like one of the guys which was really cool.

The place was plastered with dirty ragged centerfold pictures, and porno
mags were stacked in the customer lounge - a place where a constant stream
truckers hung out daily waiting for their trucks to be fixed. They are
another whole story for later.

The bathrooms were filthy mess I got the job of cleaning each night. It did
not take me long to realize that the truckers and my fellow employees
regularly used them as a spank room.  The Hustler and Penthouse magazines
always seemed to migrate into there and they just smelled like sex. Why?
Because almost every night there were drips and drabs of cum on the  floor,
the toilet seat, or the walls that I found when cleaning. We kept the
customer restroom pretty nice, but the employees restroom was the worst. We
were filthy pigs.

Our employee restroom was about 5x8 with one old toilet and a sink hanging
loosely off the wall, its bowl stained black. The walls were unfinished
sheet-rock covered be several old posters of naked women, some defaced with
graffiti, and dicks drawn on them with squirts pointed toward their pussies
or teeth biting down on their tits. The posters were an obvious substitute
for paint and covered years of dirtiness and scum well.

There were dispensers of powered de-greasing hand cleanser clinging to the
wall and a continuous rolling towel machine with a light blue cloth roll in
it. It was the usual men's room stuff.  The place stunk like piss and oil
and was filthy from years of greasy hands.  The bare concrete floor was
black with workshop patina. My nightly cleanup of this restroom found
plenty of evidence that this was the favored spank room for the guys I
worked with. Me being the low man on the totem pole, got to clean up their
messes.

By the time I was 18, I had become acutely turned on by men and was plenty
experienced in the forays of man to man sex. I had been with a few of my
buddies in high school as well as a couple of older men. I was not openly
gay, but had the taste. I had played football, so I was man enough to make
the cut in a place like this. To point, it had actually become a turn on I
looked forward to be stuck with cleaning up the leftover man scum in the
filthy hole of a bathroom from day to day.

This brings me to my perverted mind. It only took a week of this before I
got daring and curious enough to taste some of the fresh cum left behind in
the bathrooms. Yeah, its filthy and dirty but I was drawn to it like a
magnet. Hardly a day went by that there was not a few drops on the floor in
front of the toilet or nearby. It was almost as if it was some kind of game
these guys played. Most of the time it was dried or almost dry when I would
find it, but a few times there would be a few fresh drops on the floor or
on the sink that were still wet and warm.

I would taste it, lick it up and drop a load of my own in the process. 
Imagining who's warm seed I was tasting consumed me. We had about 15 guys
working at the shop. Some of them were studs that were drop dead fuck
sweet, others were not so much. I figured I was probably licking up the
loads of the old fat guy with snot all over his overall sleeves.  Hear no
evil see no evil.

My parts counter pal was James. He was my primary buddy and boss at
work. He is 35, tatted up and is a pure a biker dude. Right off the poster,
he rides a Harley Davidson Fat Boy into work every day and wears pretty
much nothing but Harley Davidson T-Shirts, Levis and black Caterpillar
boots. It is like his uniform. When I first started working with him he was
intimidating. But the more I got to know him he turned out to be cooler
than I ever imagined.

He showed me the ropes and helped me get to know the routine at the
shop. But most importantly he treated me like his best pal, even though I
was about half his age. He acted a lot younger than 35 and was always
talking about partying. We just clicked as if we were the same age. Within
the first week we had become fast friends fueled by his constant horseplay,
jokes, and crude comments about some of the stupid customers. By the time
that sense of familiarity and casual atmosphere of our relationship came
about I really began to realize how fucking hot the guy was.

He stands about 5'11, weighs in at about 180-190 lbs. His arms are beefy
and toned, as he has a pronounced V-shaped upper torso. He bulges in his
T-shirts tightly at the top, and it dances loosely across his flat
stomach. His face is chiseled and square with a sharp-lined blonde mustache
and goatee, and butchy short blond hair. He looks just like the lead singer
of Metallica. Hot huh?

Got of topic, so back to the cum in the bathrooms. I had taken to keeping
an eye on who was coming and going to the employee toilet in hopes of
finding out who was making me so fucking horny. After a week or so I had
come to notice some patterns. One guy went in there to toke up. It always
smelled like pot in there after he left it. There were a couple guys who
made pretty regular visits during the day.

It was not long before I narrowed in one of the mechanics. Ted was not only
one of the best looking guys in the shop, but he hit the can almost hourly
for 5 minutes at a time. He was jacking off or he had some kind of bowel
disorder. Ted was handsome dark haired and in his late 20's. He had an
average build and a dark thick goatee, shaved head and olive colored
skin. He was obviously of Italian or some European dissent. Damn.

 I had already gotten to know him pretty well as he was always in a chipper
mood joking around with me and James up front at the parts counter. He and
James seemed to be good buds and they were always shooting the shit.  I was
excited and turned on at the prospect that Ted might be one of the messy
pigs I was cleaning up after.

I started keeping tabs on his restroom visits. When I sneak away, I would
hit the restroom as soon as he left to see if he had left anything behind. 
With customers at the counter I often didn't get there until one or two
other guys had used it. So it was hard to nail down. After a day or two of
this I scored when I hit the room immediately after Ted had left. I shut
the door and first noticed the his musky smell, a scent of sweat, piss and
grease. I picked up on the slight smell of ripe cock in the room as I
surveyed the toilet seat, sink, and floor for the slightest hint of white
wetness.

Coming up empty I was just about to give up when I saw it. On the old faded
poster of Jenna Jameson  in front of the toilet was a trio of thick ropes
of creamy white juice running slowly down the face of the glossy print. It
looked like he stood there completely unloaded his balls and walked
away. My heart sped as I touched it with my finger and then to my tongue to
see if it was in fact what I had hoped. When I tasted him, I dropped to my
knees and licked it up as fast as I could, savoring the full flavor of
Ted's fresh man juice. It was still warm! I lapped it like dog while I
unzipped my pants and began to handle my growing tool.

There was so much of  the ooze, it took me a minute or two to lick the
poster clean. Noticing a small bit puddled on the dirty floor, I bent down
and licked it up as well. Imagining his hot flesh in my mouth,  I sat back
on the toilet and unleashed my swelling 7" meat. Rolling the remnants of
his salty cum around on my tongue, I squeezed a fresh load off myself in
the glow. I licked my hands and fingers clean.

As I made my way back to the parts counter I looked at Ted working under
the tilted cab of a Peterbuilt through the shop windows, his taste sill
dancing around in my mouth. Oh man was I high on life.


To be continued.