Date: Thu, 20 Nov 2008 23:00:55 -0800 (PST)
From: TJ <nsa_top@yahoo.com>
Subject: The right parts

My partner and I had relocated our business to an up and coming part of
town that had not yet achieved the UP portion.  The store was usually
locked up tight so that the street people walking by and checking the door
handle for a place to land would keep on going down to where their buddies
were hanging out.  We were far enough from the soup kitchen or the church
give-aways.  In fact we were at the end of a spur of commercial building
off the old main street decimated by Malls, social disorder and an aging
commercial corridor.  The showroom was a fantasy, in a way, because most of
our home improvement services were done in the home of the customers.  The
customer would call, we'd figure out what they needed or wanted and then
one our trucks full of parts or new products and tools would shoot out of
the backyard parking to service the home owner.  Pretty simple.  We would
take turns doing sales vs installations and repairs and the days that one
of us was out of the shop, the other was on the road.  And I do mean On the
road.  We would accept work up to 80 miles out from the shop.  So we'd set
up our daily route - the farthest one first and then work our way back to
the shop at the end of the day.  Owning your own business can lead to long
days out there dragging in the money.  Meanwhile at the shop, a guy could
spend the entire day straightening the place up, putting things back and
scheduling the next days and week.  Not much time for any deviation -
especially when we are doing it ourselves.

Typical day was usually non-eventful with the flurry of people calling all
day especially near 5pm our closing time.  Up to about 5:30 people would be
getting off work and calling to get an appointment or to stop in and pick
up their orders.  Nothing too unusual, like I said.  Got a call, the guy
needed a couple of mounting bracket parts.  I gave him directions and told
him to ring the bell, the door would be locked and I'd be out back in the
stock room.  He told me he was nearby and within 5 minutes the alert bell
was ringing.  I opened up and greeted the guy.  He stepped in and put his
hand out and opened it.  There I saw in a rather large palm, a single part
that was in many pieces.  I looked up at him to see a perplexed expression.
I asked him what is it from?

He replied, it's a tilt mechanism for a big old horizontal blind.

How'd you manage to keep all the pieces?

When I took the shade out of the window I could hear it rattle and so I
just lowered it to the ground and well, picked out the pieces.

ah, well I don't usually have parts like this, but I can dig around in the
big bin - follow me.

We chatted about brands and styles and what could be used if I didn't have
something to replace it.  He followed me around the maze to the back where
the parts bins were located and while we walked I did what I normally do: I
observed him.  Mid 40's maybe, clean, youthful goat-y well kept, baggy
Hawaiian shirt, cargo-pant shorts, expensive runners, tan legs, not smooth
but not hairy.  His gait was restrained and hesitant but he managed to keep
a uniform distance behind me tightly holding his pieces of parts.  I tend
to walk fast and deliberate and so when we rounded the corner reaching our
destination I stopped and he unknowingly abruptly stopped bumping into me
from behind and then with concern apologized for the collision

Oh, Oh Sorry, I didn't see you stop! and pieces began dropping from his
grip.  Oh No!

As the small parts drifted and bounced and disappeared into the floor and
nooks and crannies.  He dropped to his knee in hot pursuit.

I told him not to worry - I had seen it before and started my digging.  I
pivoted to see what he was doing - still on one knee to observe him
adjusting himself.  He had his right hand sliding into his pocket -
obviously depositing the parts in that pocket and the other hand was
yanking his pant leg up so that his knee wasn't stretching or straining the
fabric - and just before he got that pulled up over his knee, his basket
was showing some arousal.  I smiled to myself and thought - a guy who
really LIKES old parts.  In the next moment he was back on his feet and now
both hands were sunk deep into his pockets.  This was to create a false
tent to hide his obvious arousal.  I tried to focus on what I was doing and
tried to ignore him in my quarter view but it became difficult because his
hands were working while I dug through the parts drawers.  As my search
followed the horizontal rows of bins of parts, one by one of the rows were
eliminated until I was the one on one knee pulling out a bin, then another,
then another.  He was watching me and his posture was really crazy.  The
picture - chin tucked down to his chest, eyes planted on my moves, both
hands in his pockets, working his dick, his back was slightly concave and
knees slightly bent.  I thought to myself, if he was completely naked, he
be jerking his cock with both hands for me to see.  At no point did I get
that he was offering me anything up until I said, I don't think I'm going
to be able to help you out.  I pivoted on my knee and repositioned my
entire body with one rotation to face him.  Looking up at this contorted
man I now got full view of his ministrations.  He was still manipulating
his cock and from that chin-tuck position, his lips parted slightly, his
tongue moved forward slightly just enough to protrude, his breath became
audible and he practically whispered -

Uh, well maybe you can help me out with this part...  with that the cargo
shorts which were apparently being held up with both hands only, hit the
floor in a swoop of fabric.

Not unfamiliar with a man presenting his wares to my while one my knees, my
eyes left his and trailed down to his prized position - projecting out
beyond the palm tree illustrations on his shirt.  His balls hung lower that
the shirt fell and I immediately noticed that he didn't have a tan line.
Even his balls had a sun kissed bronze and his brown hairs were lightened
by the sun exposure.

He raised his eyebrows, his leering eyes and well positioned tongue now
about to drip his saliva growing on the tip he breathed the request again:
Can you help me out with this? I was told you really know your parts and
give great service.

I chuckled and rolled off the heel of my boot landing on my knees placing
my face in line with the right part.  I glanced up, opening my mouth just
like when the priest places the host in your mouth for communion, and his
leer moved to a smile and he leaned forward.

The tip of his cock had a drip forming just like his tongue had had and I
met it with My tongue.  His cock bobbed under the slightest touch and on
the third bob landed on my projecting tongue.  I sucked it into my lips and
held it waiting to see how he'd react.  His movement was slow and
deliberate.  It seems like forever before the sides of his cock were
sticking and hanging up on the edges of my mouth.  The first penetration
and the only part of his cock left outside was the base of bush.  He leaned
in and buried that cock its' entire length without stopping.  I moaned with
a mouth full of cock and the incomparable scent of a man.  I was consuming
him - I stuck my tongue out under his shaft as far as I could and lapped at
his balls that were now no longer swinging.  He didn't say anything.  We
were suspended in time.  I held my eyes closed and pulsated my throat
around his cock and could feel it expand and contract with his heart beat.
I rolled his shaft around in my mouth and then sucked like I was placing a
siphon in an irrigation ditch.  That action got his body's attention and he
convulsed with satisfaction.  His hands left his sides and gently he place
both hands on top of my head.  I pictured him fucking my ass as the
placement of his hands felt similar and caused my mind to wander.  But
there was no pressure just the weight of his hands on the top of my head.
Then he dropped one hand down to outline blindly the perimeter of his cock
and the lips holding it tightly.  The palm of his hand was warm and gentle
against my cheek.  Then the other hand exploring the opposite side
outlining my lips with his index finger, feeling the saliva bubbling out
the sides of my mouth at the base of his cock.  One hand left the base to
feel my ear, hair, and to the back of my head, then immediately and
deliberately the other found its way and then, holding my head like a
basketball ready at the free throw line, he began to withdraw his cock.
Where my lips were resting on the soft base of his abdomen, soon I was
feeling the soft yet extremely hard sides of his cock.  The veins were
bulging over my lips and I could feel the undulations all the way up to the
crown of his cock head - my lips closed slightly as his motion came to the
end of his cock head - not out but not in - it was a lifetime as I looked
up from my feeding to see his eyebrows high and his head was bobbing,
nodding in positive confirmation when he said - I'm gonna fuck that mouth
of yours!

I barely got a nod in; my eyes were conveying that I was totally in
agreement - when he buried it to the base.  There actually was a sound when
he hit the back of my throat - the sound that a plunger makes - but the
sound that was coming out of his throat was pure sexual grunts!  The splash
of saliva shot out of the corners of my mouth and spray my cheeks along
with his balls and thighs.  He withdrew almost as far after the initial
bang and slammed it back in...

I grunt my best uh-huh as he continued and build up his rhythm and in
moments his was a face-fucking cock piston hammering away!  And I was
taking that assault with out a single gag.  I would get a glimpse of him on
the top of the piston stroke and I assembled the rest of the picture on the
down stroke - he was still bent kneed, back arched, but now his head was
thrown back and his tongue was practically hanging out like you see a dogs
tongue hand out when their breeding their bitch - it just lays to the side
and drips - his tongue was totally relaying his erotic satisfaction.  I had
been on all fours for most of this throat fuck but managed to get my hands
up and onto my pants to try to get in and get a grip on my own cock.  Cock
strain was taking over and I was desperate to get free and stroke in time
with my face fucker.  I could feel him leaning to the side as I pulled my
cock out.  When he saw it he let out an acknowledging groan and launched a
wad of cum down my throat.  I barely got a full up-down on my dick when I
started tasting his cum and with each thrust another wad would fill my
mouth.  It was hot and flavorful but mostly hot! One after another, after
another orgasmic wad accompanied by grunts noting his success!  The final
stroke was left buried in my mouth allowing for my siphon sucking to drain
him of his cum.  When he had finished, he took a step back.  I nearly feel
on my face loosing my balance but catching myself before I hit the floor.
I resumed my position sitting on my heels and looked up at my customer.  A
long taffy-pull wad of cum was dropping off the tip of his cock - I leaned
forward with my mouth open and tongue out to catch it and he jumped back
grabbing it and stroking his cock with his cum lube.  The leer came back to
his lips and in his gravelly after-sex throat said - yes, you know what
you're doing.

I told him I did - if I have the right parts.

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