Body Work #5
Sam grinned—a slow, wicked curving of his lips—and gently squeezed the hard bulge trapped beneath the fabric.
Elliot let out a soft, shuddering gasp. "This is how you make me feel. So good. So fucking hard."
"So it's out there now, huh?" Sam smiled, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly purr. "That's good. Because I think the car repairs might be a little more than you can afford in the money-sense... if you get my drift?"
Elliot licked his lips, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. "You were thinking maybe I'd pay you... another way?"
Sam’s thumb brushed over the head of Elliot’s trapped erection, drawing a soft moan from him.
“I’m not in the habit of making anybody do anything they don’t wanna do,” Sam said in a low, smooth growl. His thumb passed over the swollen head again.
"Good thing there's plenty that I do want to do," Elliot purred.
“You serious?” Sam asked.
Without breaking eye contact, Elliot slid off the porch swing. He lowered himself gracefully down to his knees on the deck floor, settling directly between Sam’s splayed legs.
“How’s this for serious?” Elliot said, his eyes dragging up the length of Sam’s torso to his face.
"I don't know," Sam murmured, a brief flash of hesitation crossing his rugged features. "You're a lot younger than I am. I feel a bit wrong about it."
"I'm an adult," Elliot countered smoothly, crawling an inch closer until his chest was nearly brushing Sam’s knees.
"So why don't you leave all that up to me to decide?
" He tilted his head up, lowering his voice into a breathy, seductive whisper.
"You saved my ass today. It's only fair I pay up with my body, right? Maybe my… mouth?"
Sam stared down at the beautiful, eager college boy kneeling at his feet, bathed in the pale glow of the moon. He shook his head slowly, raising the bottle to take one final, long swig of drink.
"Been a long time since I've had a cute young guy on his knees asking for my cock," Sam joked, his voice thick with lust. "And I think the last time it was a guy as young as you, there was a director filming it."
Sam set the empty bottle on the porch beside him.
His big, calloused hands moved to the metal button of his jeans. The sharp snick of the zipper descending sounded deafening in the quiet desert night.
Elliot held his breath, his heart hammering against his ribs, as Sam gripped the waistband of his jeans and slowly wiggled them down, preparing to unleash his cock under the starlit sky.
Sam hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his grease-stained jeans and faded boxers, pushing them down his hairy, muscular thighs.
As the fabric fell away, Sam’s massive cock sprang free, slapping against his thigh before settling between his legs above his heavy, low-hanging sack.
Elliot’s eyes widened, reflecting the bright, silvery moonlight.
All the air left his lungs in a sharp rush.
"Fuck," he gasped, his voice trembling with a mix of awe and sheer intimidation. "It's… massive!"
Sam let out a low, ragged laugh that quickly melted into a deep moan as Elliot wasted no time.
Driven by a feral, curious hunger, Elliot reached out and wrapped his slender, trembling fingers around the mechanic's fat, hardening shaft. Sam’s half-hard cock thickened to its full nine inches, rising rigidly between his legs with a beautiful downward curve.
The slit at its big, flared head seemed to stare Elliot down.
It was a beautiful, terrifying weapon of pale-pink-purple flesh, as thick as Elliot's wrist and nearly as long as his forearm.
Beneath his fingertips, Elliot could feel prominent, pulsing veins running along the underside, leading up to a wide, flawlessly carved head that seemed to command absolute power and dominance.
In the dim, romantic lighting of the stars and moon, Elliot couldn't see its full daytime coloring, but he could clearly make out the rosy, flushed hue of arousal.
A single, thick bead of pre-cum swelled from the slit, catching the moonlight and sparkling like a diamond before sliding slowly down the smooth glans.
"I want to try sucking it," Elliot confessed, his voice barely a whisper as he stroked the velvet skin. "But I'm nervous. It's... it's huge."
Sam’s broad chest heaved as he looked down at the gorgeous college boy on his knees before him. He reached out, his rough hand gently cupping the side of Elliot’s face. "Take your time," Sam murmured, his voice thick with unbridled lust. "Do whatever you want. Remember, it’s just us and the stars."
Elliot’s gaze drifted lower, taking in the sheer, masculine confidence of the man sitting before him.
Beneath that massive shaft hung a low, tight sack holding two big, fleshy, round anchors.
Elliot slipped his other hand beneath them, weighing Sam’s balls in his palm.
He couldn't believe the heat and the sheer, dense weight of them. He could think only of the mechanic’s raw virility—of everything held inside those heavy balls, waiting to be emptied deep into him.
The only question was which hole Sam intended to fill.
A profound, earth-shattering realization washed over Elliot right there on the porch: this was what he was always meant to do.
As he stared down the barrel of Sam’s cock, he realized with staggering clarity just how much girls had not excited him—not like this. Nothing had ever made his blood pump, his skin hum, and his mind race quite like having this big, pulsing dick mere inches from his face.
Elliot parted his lips and leaned in.
He hovered for a second before darting his tongue out, sliding the warm muscle directly over the slit.
He tasted the hot, salty pre-cum, groaning softly as he let the slick fluid slide to the back of his throat. He smacked his lips, savoring the flavor, and went in for more.
Opening his mouth wide, he slid his lips over the wide, rosy head of Sam’s cock.
"Oh, fuck," Sam moaned deeply, his knees buckling slightly as his grease-stained fingers tangled into Elliot’s dirty-blonde curls.
Elliot couldn't believe it. He actually had his mouth full of another man's cock—and he was already addicted. He loved the taste of Sam; the sweet, slightly sweaty, and salty musk of his skin.
He loved the absolute power he held, feeling the way Sam’s heavy body shuddered and how he groaned every single time Elliot swirled his tongue over the sensitive frenulum on the underside of the head.
He loved that he felt every time the head expanded and the ridge of it rubbed against the roof of his mouth.
Driven by a desperate need to please, Elliot tried to take more of the thick shaft past his lips, but immediately felt the pressure at the back of his throat, a warning that he might gag.
A spike of anxiety hit him. He was terrified he was going to embarrass himself, to prove he was just a clueless college boy who had never sucked a dick before. But as he bobbed his head, pulling his lips tightly over the thick ridge, Sam’s hips snapped forward.
"Damn," Sam growled, his voice vibrating with raw pleasure. "You're a natural at this. You feel so good, Elliot."
Encouraged, Elliot picked up his rhythm. Sam’s hips began to buckle and thrust upward with a rhythmic, demanding tempo, shoving a bit more of his massive meat past Elliot’s lips and toward his throat.
And Elliot loved it. He loved being manhandled, loved the dominant, demanding way the older mechanic forced him to take that big, fat cock.
The friction and the submission were sending Elliot’s own arousal into overdrive.
His dick was rock hard, aching and trapped inside the thin fabric prison of his shorts.
Without breaking his rhythm on Sam’s cock, Elliot reached down and began to yank them down. He fought his way out of his clothes, one arm at a time, all while keeping his mouth perfectly locked onto the big dick.
"Damn, Elliot," Sam warned, his breathing turning ragged and shallow. "You're sucking this thing like you want to drain me." Sam’s hips snapped forward with a bruising thrust. "You're gonna make me cum, boy."
Hearing that, Elliot pulled his mouth off the thick shaft with a wet, sloppy pop.
It was the perfect time, since he wanted his shirt off. He quickly shucked the t-shirt over his head and kicked it aside, along with his shorts, standing completely naked from head to toe in the cool desert breeze.
Without missing a beat, he dropped right back down, bypassing the shaft entirely to take one of Sam’s heavy balls into his mouth, sucking the sensitive flesh with a wet, eager hunger.
As he did this, he poked his butt back and into the air. He felt the cold night breeze rush against his sack, his taint and his asshole.
Sam’s long arms reached down, his large, calloused hands just barely reaching Elliot’s naked butt.
His thick fingers gripped possessively into Elliot’s soft, firm butt cheeks, kneading the flesh as Elliot continued to suck on Sam’s balls before dragging his wet mouth back up the impossible length of the massive shaft.
"You can't just get naked," Sam growled, his voice a low, commanding rumble that sent shivers down Elliot's spine, "and not show me that cute ass of yours up-close."
Elliot didn't hesitate.
He pulled off Sam’s dick, his lips slick with spit, and turned around.
Planting his feet on the wooden planks of the porch, he bent over at the waist and touched his toes.
He completely surrendered himself, pushing his hips back and proudly showing off his tight, pink, bald asshole directly to the towering mechanic.
He’d never felt like a piece of meat beneath a big, hungry man’s gaze before, but he fucking loved it—loved knowing just how badly Sam wanted him.
Sam let out a ragged breath.
He stepped closer, stepping into Elliot's space, and began to lightly trace his rough fingertips over the tight ring of the college boy’s asshole, teasing the sensitive hole. The contrast of Sam’s calloused, dirty hands against Elliot’s smooth skin made the blonde moan softly.