When did you first recognize

The Saturday morning before Christmas I went to the tire center and opened the shop. Mr. Roy arrived about 7:45. I had already unfolded his morning paper and placed it on his desk. I had opened the register, counted the drawer, etc....As always I had made coffee. restocked the coffee counter with cups, sugar and sweet n low, creamer, etc. All the men in the shop loved it when I brought in warm banana bread my mom made fresh each Saturday morning before I left the house. At 8 o’clock I unlocked the door, put out a clean rug so when men came in especially wearing work boots they didn’t get my clean mopped floor dirty.

I spoke to the mechanics in the Bay Area. Told them coffee was ready and my mom sent 2 loaves of banana bread. Scotter, Scott the ginger walked out of the men’s room....sporting a semi chub of a hardon. He looked at me and winked. Hell, 8 o’clock in the morning....I could suck his fat cock at any time.

He asked me to bring him a piece of banana bread. I obviously did as he asked. Mr. Roy sensed I like him the best. About twenty minutes later Mr. Roy came and found me. Scott was watching from a distance. Mr. Roy gave me his truck keys, a sheet of paper and handed me a check. I was instructed to take his new Scottsdale truck and go to another tire shop in Knoxville to pick up a special order set of tires from another dealer. As always I did exactly as I was instructed. Before I left Mr. Roy followed me to his truck. As I climbed under the steering wheel he reached between my legs and got his .38 smith and Wesson from under the seat. When I saw his guy...his hairy arm I got hard. I asked him if it was loaded, he chuckled...and said, “son, what’s the point in carrying it if it wasn’t loaded.” Holy hell....I reached and slowly stroked my hand over his gun and touched his crotch. He winked and said...both will be here when you get back. I wanted to kiss him so badly as he said that to me in his low, baritone husky voice.

As I was driving tow Knoxville the truck started missing. I’m no mechanic, however, I knew when something wasn’t right. I pulled over to a Shell station about ten miles from where I was going. I spoke to the attendant, told him what the truck was doing, etc... The guy looked at me and said, son...come with me. I used the phone in his office and called Mr. Roy. The mechanic was listening but kept checking out my ass. If you recall from previous stories...I was instructed to always wear a jockstrap to work under my jeans. I’m sure he could see the white waistband of my jock. Mr. Roy told me to put Keith back on the line. As Keith was speaking on the phone he kept smiling, told Mr. Roy he would take care of things. Once he was off the phone he said to me....let’s take my truck. I said, yes sir. He winked and said Mr. Roy said you followed directions well. Keith, the mechanic and I went on to pick up the tires I was originally sent to get. Keith kept looking at me, would cup his crotch from time to time, etc....

Once we picked up the tires and secured them in the back of his truck we headed back down the road. He told me Mr. Roy said I would thank him for his trouble. He pulled off behind a barn down a side road. Turned off the truck and said ....take my cock out and get it wet. Hell, I wanted to see what was so thick in his blue work pants anyway. He wasn’t wearing any underwear. Fat, mushroom purple head. I teased his piss slit with my tongue. He grabb