Parking lot - Part Two: Axle Grease

At 11 pm my shift started as mundanely as ever. Lickspittle handed me the keys and mumbled something in his half-asleep stupor, which I ignored as I continued walking for the gate. It was nearly two hours before Gary arrived.

As I let him in, he smiled and asked, “Anything going on?”

“Hell, no.”

We got into the Jeep and I headed for his truck. On the way, Gary got a bit personal. “Hey, where do you live?”

“Up in Oak Ridge Park.”

“Is it a house?”

I decided to give him plenty of information, just to see where he was going with this. “I live alone at the Hillside Apartments, number 216. Do you know where those are?”

“Are they the ones on Crystal Avenue at the top of the hill?”

“Yep.”

As we arrived at his truck, the subject suddenly changed. “Look at this. Only two loads tonight.” He showed me the list of cars to be delivered. “Let’s knock this shit out and get down to some real business.”

That pretty much told me everything I needed to know. He was ready to go again, and I was glad to hear it. So I helped him stage the autos and within two hours he was returning from his final delivery. I waved him into the fence and followed in the Jeep as he parked his truck. Then he jumped in with me for the ride to the gate.

He looked a little tired. I could see beads of sweat on his forehead, as he lifted off his cap and massaged the top of his thinning scalp. I wanted to make sure this was his decision, so I told him, “You know, we don’t have to do anything tonight if you’re not up to it. I won’t think any less of you.”

“Oh, no. I’ll be ok. It’s just that I usually don’t work at this pace. Believe me, I’ve been looking forward to this since I left here. I just hope you are up for it.”

I found this comment rather strange. After all, why wouldn’t I be ready? I thought I’d given him every indication that what we had going was thrilling me to death. I decided to let it go, because I really didn’t want him to know that he was affecting me like no man ever had. Perhaps I didn’t want to admit that to myself either. 

I decided not to press him as to why he wanted to know where I lived. Foolishly, I fantasized that he might some day show up at my door like some lost child, begging me to take him in and protect him from the cruel, cruel world of marriage.

We entered the drivers’ shed and he made his phone call to headquarters. As he hung up, I knelt and reached for his zipper, but Gary’s hand stopped me. “I need to ask you something. Do you like to fuck - I mean, be fucked?”

I stood up, but remained silent. The answer was no. I had allowed someone to do that to me early in my experimentation period and did not like it one bit. My asshole hurt for days, and from that day forward, I had devoted myself to becoming a first-class cock sucker, because that is what I really loved to do and reciprocation had never been important to me. My pleasure came from servicing horny men with my very talented mouth. 

But something strange was spinning in my head. I suddenly realized that I was developing a very strong desire for this man. He had been the only thing on my mind since we had parted nearly 24 hours earlier, and as I now looked at him with his cap boyishly tilted to one side and eyes gazing up at me with a puppy dog longing, I began to surrender.

I allowed him to pursue the subject. “Not really. Why do you ask?”

“I just thought that if you liked it, maybe it would be some way I could repay you for taking care of me. I don’t really want to suck your dick, because I’m just not that way. I guess I could jack you off, but I was hoping I could satisfy you this way and we both could enjoy it. It’s been so long since I’ve poked anyone who really cared about me, I just thought maybe you’d be interested.”

“You do repay me, Gary. I love sucking you off. That’s all the satisfaction I need.”

His head dropped and I barely heard him mumble. “Ok, go ahead.”

Now what could I say? The poor, pathetic creature was once again begging for me to lift him out of his misery. Jesus Christ, he was like some spoiled brat who couldn’t have his way, and this made me horny as hell! I had already seen how masterfully he had performed during the oral fucking. Could his skill at ramming it up my ass be any less thrilling? Well, there was only one way to find out. “I’ll try it, but you have to promise that you’ll take it out if I ask you to.”

Gary jumped up from the chair. “I promise. C’mon, let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Follow me.”

We left the shed and headed for his car, where he unlocked the back door and brought out from under the driver’s seat a flat can, which resembled a huge container of shoe polish or saddle soap.

“What the hell is that?”

“Axle grease. Ever tried it?”

I burst out laughing. “For what you’re gonna do? You gotta be kidding. Let me see that shit.” I knew he had to be joking.

“Wait until we’re inside.” He started walking towards my building. “This is something else I discovered as a kid. I used to tinker with old cars, and one time when I was horny and all alone in our garage, I jacked off with it. It is a fantastic lubricant. You won’t feel a thing.”

He strutted towards the door and I could tell he was pretty excited. As for me, I was still amused at the thought of axle grease being rammed into me. I knew he couldn’t be serious, but of course, I was envisioning the nasty black crap you see dripping off the undercarriages of old automobiles. When we got inside the building, Gary opened the can to show me what new axle grease looks and feels like. It was a dark blended color of grey, green and blue. I poked my index finger into it. The texture was that of petroleum jelly, but perhaps a little thicker. “So this is what it starts out like. I never would have guessed.”

“Yep. Think you can handle it?”

“Time will tell. Where do you want to do this?”

“Lock the door. Does anyone ever come around here this time of night?”

I looked at my watch to see it was almost 3:30 am. “Nope.”

He waved me toward him and I locked the door before following. We went into the locker room. Here there were no windows, just a dozen lockers, two long folding tables and several chairs. Gary pointed to one of the tables. “How about you bend over the end of that, will that work?”

“I’ll try it.”

“Good. Let’s get nekked!”

We stood face to face about four feet apart and began to undress. When we finally dropped our shorts, Gary’s dick was pointing at me and ready for action. What surprised me was the fact that my own peter was hard as could be. The revulsion I had always felt at the mere mention of the word “fuck” had mysteriously disappeared. I stepped toward the end of the table and made contact. The edge of it hit me midway between my navel and pelvic bone. Then I bent forward and laid my chest on top, clasping my hands on either side of the table and past my head. Now I waited.

I heard him open the lid of the can. Then I felt the cold metal on the small of my back as he laid his supply in front of him. “Let me get you started.”

I felt his lubricated fingers smearing the axle grease around the rim of my anus. Soon, the sound of the lid crashing to the floor was accompanied by the feeling of pressure in my ass hole. He had inserted one of his fingers and began to move it back and forth. I tensed up at this sensation and doubled my tightness when he stuck in a second finger. Gary tried to calm me. “Just relax those muscles. Everything is going to be ok.”

His soothing, yet deep masculine voice allayed all my fears. I began to think about who was doing this to me. I imagined what the scene behind me must look like, his magnificent penis primed and patiently waiting, as he gently prepared me for his assault. Gary felt me slowly relaxing my anus, as my yearning for him intensified. I was now fully willing to sacrifice and please him by any means necessary.