In and Out of Focus

I saw him glancing over at me while I was with my wife and daughter in our local Focus DIY store. He was dressed in a tatty-looking polo shirt and a pair of dirty jeans with a navy blue shop assistants' apron hooked around his neck and tied loosely around his waste.

He looked about eighteen or nineteen and had short dark brown hair. He was skinny but the thickness of his biceps and build of his chest showed that he could handle hard manual work when he was required to. His plastic name badge, which had probably been used by a succession of his predecessors, had "Darren" scrawled in black marker pen on a white sticker.

He looked me up and down with a slightly surly expression. I thought that perhaps Beth, our young daughter, was misbehaving and playing with the merchandise, but when I turned to look over at her, she was standing dutifully next to Melissa, my wife, holding her hand.

When I looked back at the young man he'd already gone. So I got on looking at the packets of screws and fastenings I'd been pretending to understand and selected a couple at random to throw into our shopping basket.

While Melissa had gone off to look at wallpaper with Beth, I popped into the customer toilets at the back of the store.

I'd finished off taking a piss and was washing my hands when the young guy I'd seen in the fixings aisle came into the room. I nodded at him in polite recognition but he just threw me another frosty look and then walked over to the urinals. He hitched the bottom of his apron up, unzipped the fly of his jeans and pulled out his cock to piss.

I watched him through the mirror and noticed that he kept glancing over at me, a wary expression on his face, and then back down at his cock.

I wondered if I was being cruised. 

His face said definitely not. The looks he was throwing me were decidedly hostile; as if he suspected that I was checking him out (which I sort of was) and was uncomfortable with it.

But why would he follow me into the customer toilets? Surely staff had their own facilities?

As I dried my hands I threw him occasional glances, trying to look as casual about it as I could. He was directing his cock at the urinal but he wasn't pissing. I noticed that his cock was limp and thin but quite long. He'd withdrawn his foreskin to reveal his withered, pale-coloured bell-end as a lot of men do when they're taking a piss.

Even when my hands were bone dry, I kept pulling more paper towels from the dispenser and continued to pretend to dry them further, intrigued to see what the guy would do.

Eventually he called over to me, as my eyes drifted towards his cock for the umpteenth time to scan it for any signs of potential excitement, "Were you looking for anything in particular?"

I looked up at his face and he was staring blankly at me.

I smirked; I liked his question. It could easily have been an innocent request made by a shop assistant to a customer, but we were both aware of the alternative meanings it concealed.

I replied, still smiling, "Well, I've been having a good look, and I like what I've seen..."

His mouth betrayed just the faintest flicker of a smile but he struggled to maintain his blank, standoffish expression.

He asked, "What were you hoping to do?" His voice was quite deep; if he was gay it wasn't at all evident in his voice or his mannerisms.

I chuckled, grabbing another paper towel. "I dunno... I suppose I was hoping I might drill a hole."

He chuckled back, unable to stop himself, and stared at the wall in front of him, still holding his limp cock.

After a moment or so, he turned back to face me, a half-smile, on his face, and said, "And... er... what size bit does your drill have?"

I grinned at him, feeling my cock lengthen in my briefs a little. His wit was quite a turn on; most young guys of his age seem to revel in playing it thick.

I said, "Well, I'm no expert, but I've been told it's quite a large one..."

He laughed and said, half under his breath, "Yeah yeah yeah..."

Abandoning the possibility of taking a piss, he pushed his cock back into jeans, and zipped himself up. Adjusting his apron, he asked, "And this thing you were hoping to drill... would it be high up – sort of face height – or lower down...?"

We smiled at one another and he walked over to wash his own hands.

I said, "A bit of both, actually. I've always thought it was best to start at the top before getting stuck into the bottom..."

He laughed, squirting soap into his hand.

Then he turned to me, his face more serious, and said, "Are you asking me for... well... what I think you're asking me for...?"

I shrugged. "What do you think I'm asking for?"

He finished washing his hands and then turned to face me. Still seriously, he said, "Pardon me if I've got it wrong – you know, the customer's always right and all that – but are you asking if you can fuck me?"

I nodded, appreciating his directness. "Yeah. I suppose I am..."

He reached for a paper towel and began drying his hands. He said, "Okay. But it'll cost you..."

I must have flinched in surprise. "You want paying?"

He laughed at my reaction. "Yeah, of course. It's not like I'd enjoy it, is it?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. Have you done it before?"

He smirked at me. "Come on, mate. I'm straight, but I've done enough to know that I don't enjoy it. But if you've got fifty quid..."

"Fifty quid?"

He laughed again. "Yeah. I'm not bending over to get fucked for the price of a fuckin' pint!"

I reached for my wallet, knowing full well that I didn't have anything like fifty pounds in it. At first I'd found it a little insulting that he'd asked me to pay him to have sex with him – although about ten years older than him I'm still able to cruise for gay sex without having to buy it – but the fact that he was straight but willing to allow a man to fuck him for the right price seemed attractively sordid. It also appealed to my ego that I could buy this young straight guy's arse for an amount that seemed almost insignificant to me.

I said, counting up the notes, "I've got twenty... and maybe five in loose change..."

He shrugged. "I'll suck you for twenty."

I didn't want to get sucked; I really wanted to fuck him. His arse looked really firm and round filling out the back of his jeans and would look even better if it were naked and had my cock sliding in and out of it.

I said, trying not to sound too desperate, "I really want to fuck you... I don't suppose the tills give cashback, do they?"

"No. And I can't hang around that long. This isn't my designated break..."

I thought frantically of ways I could pay him the extra money. "I could buy you thirty pounds worth of Focus gift vouchers... meet you outside the shop afterwards..."

He laughed. "Come on, mate. I'm not going to sell my arse for a few poxy gift vouchers... the stuff in here's not worth shit anyway!"

He walked into one of the cubicles and gestured me to follow him. "Come on... I'll suck you off for twenty. That'll have to do..."

I followed him into the cubicle, feeling angry with myself for not having gone to the cashpoint at the supermarket the previous evening. I'd meant to, but then Beth had started acting up and Melissa had started nagging and it had been pushed to the back of my mind.

He said, "It'll have to be quick. I can't slack off for too much longer. I hope you don't take ages to cum..."

I unfastened my belt and unzipped myself, hitching my trousers down around my knees. "If you finger my arse it'll be over pretty quickly..."

He said, curtly, "You're not paying me to touch your arse. I'm not going anywhere near it."

I was a little taken aback by his frankness and said, "I just thought you wanted it to be over quickly..."

He snapped, "I do. But you can finger your own arse. I don't want to be smelling some guy's arse on my finger all day for twenty measly quid..."

His bluntness wasn't exactly endearing but I suppose you get what you pay for.

I pulled my briefs down and my cock, swollen but not erect, flopped out over my balls.

He knelt down in front of me and reached up to wank me off. His hands were surprisingly soft and gentle. He looked up at my face and asked, "How big's your dick get?"

"Erect?"

"Hard, yeah."

"I dunno. About eight inches."

He looked at it with admiration and said, "Nice one."

I asked him, "How big's yours?"

He looked up at me again. "Six or seven. Seven with the right tits and pussy in front of it. Know what I mean?"

I smiled at his need to reinforce his heterosexuality in what was obviously an awkward situation for him.

I said, "Why don't you get yours out? Have a play with it while you suck me?"

He shrugged, still gently stroking my cock as it slowly lengthened and began to stand up of its own accord. "It won't get hard, but I will if you want me to."

I smiled. "Yeah. It looked pretty nice poking out of your fly at the urinals."

He grinned at me. "Yeah?"

He pushed his shop apron out of the way and unfastened his jeans. He pulled them down around the tops of his thighs and then followed suit with his baggy grey boxer briefs. His cock flopped between his legs looking totally unimpressed by what was going on.

I asked him, "You wouldn't let me suck me you off for an extra fiver would you? You can cum in my mouth..."

He shook his head. "I really haven't got the time, mate..."

My cock was now half-erect and he gripped my foreskin firmly to withdraw it completely and expose my reddening bell-end. He began licking around my piss slit and drawing circles with his tongue around the helmet of my cock, being thorough despite clearly lacking any genuine interest.

I stared ahead of me, half-reading the "Fire Alarm Routine" sign on the back of the toilet door, while receiving my twenty pounds worth of oral ministrations from the shop assistant.

My cock was lengthening rapidly and was now arching upwards to thrust gently but insistently at his lips. He took the head of my cock into his mouth and began sucking it, his lips making farcical squeaking and slurping noises.

I put my hands around his head and gently caressed his short, rough hair.

He pulled back from my cock, now almost at full size, and grinned up at me. "Jesus! It's fucking massive! I don't think my arse could've taken it..."

I smiled at him. "We'd have worked something out..."

He smirked and then returned to my cock, taking four or so of my thickened eight inch length into him, sucking and slurping on it with an amateurish, but not altogether unpleasant, technique. I helped him by slowly fucking his face, enjoying the feel of my balls thumping against his chin on every thrust.

Just then a "ding-dong" sound rang out over the store tannoy and a voice called out, "Darren Perkins to the front desk, Darren Perkins to the front desk. Customer waiting."

The lad jumped up and began pulling his underpants and jeans up. "That's me. I've gotta go. Sorry."

I asked him, "Can we finish this off later...?"

He shook his head. "I can't afford to slack off... if they get wind of what we're doing they'll sack me on the spot..."

He fastened his belt and made to leave the cubicle, smoothing down his apron. I grabbed his arm and said, "Look, Darren. We could meet later – somewhere quiet – and I'll suck you, then we'll see how you feel about me fucking you..."

He shook his head, turning to leave again.

I said, "There'll be a hundred pounds in it for you."

He turned back to face me, his eyes full of interest. "A hundred? Fair and square?"

"A hundred."

I tucked my erection into my briefs and fastened my jeans up, following him out of the cubicle. I worried that we'd find someone standing at the urinal, listening to our conversation, but the room was empty.

He said, "And if your cock's too big to fuck me?"

"Then we'll think of something else."

He nodded. "Okay. No tricks, though."

I nodded. "I'll pick you up at your house tonight...?"

"No. I don't want people askin' questions. Do you know The Nags Head... over in Farnley...?"

"Yeah, I think so." I thought I'd driven past it a couple of times.

He said, "Meet me there at seven. If anyone asks, I'm buying a bike from you, okay?"

I smiled and nodded, and held out the twenty pounds for the interrupted blowjob I'd just received.

He refused it, saying, "Treat it as a free sample. Try before you buy or somethin'." He grinned and he left the toilet.

I found Melissa and Beth at the shop exit, both of them scowling at me. Melissa snapped, "Where've you been?" It wouldn't have surprised me if the first words Beth had spoken as a baby had been along similar lines.

I noticed Darren glancing over at us from the customer services desk as I was unsuccessfully trying to mollify Melissa and then we left the shop to go back to the car.

She hissed at me in the car park, "And it was obvious that you had an erection..."

I'd done my best to hide it, but the jeans I was wearing had been washed a few too many times and were getting a little too tight for such things to be concealed.

I whispered, "I can't help my bodily functions..."

She snorted, "We can't go anywhere without you sneaking off for... well... goodness knows what..."

I said, "I went to the toilet. I have a bad stomach. What are you suggesting happened in there?"

"Probably not as much as you wanted to, judging by the state of your... itemry... on the way out..."

Melissa had a variety of words to describe my genitals in the presence of Beth; "itemry" was the latest addition to the list.