After Work Fun: An Introduction

In 1904, Charlie Collins bought out the old Millside Falls Dry Goods store and established “Collins Hardware Store”. He no longer needed to sell “dry goods” because separate shops for men and women opened over the last couple of years. And since this was primarily a farming community, he focused on what the men working the farms needed, rather than selling just about everything, as old Mr. Swenson did.

Two generations later, in 1946, when his grandson ‘Collins’ finally came home from England after World War II, Old Charlie started up a lawn and garden business and put his grandson in charge. Collins was a well-loved local baseball hero from his high school days before the war. He was always called by his last name, as it was the kind of nickname given to all sports heroes at the time. And man oh man, it took off like gangbusters that summer, primarily because of his grandson, Collins, the handsome widower that all the gals wanted to get their hands on. Collins himself wasn’t at all interested for lots of different reasons that you might put together after you read the rest of this story.

Because the business grew so fast, Collins and BJ, an older guy, in his mid-forties, who has worked for Charlie for the last ten years, had to hire more and more help. Because this was a summer job, they focused on younger guys, who had just graduated high school, and would be off to either college, down in The Cities, or trade school in nearby Anoka.
This story is about those men and an odd thing that happened one afternoon, along with the unexpected subsequent consequences.

After Work Clean Up

Collins’ Farm after Work, Friday, August 15, 1947, 3:20 pm
As Collins’ Lawncare and Gardening business grew, their equipment to do the job outgrew the available space behind their downtown store. So Collins moved it all to the out-buildings on the family farm and stored it out there along with their two trucks. All the guys that worked for him would start their workday out there somewhere between six and seven, depending on the weather and the work they were doing that day. At the end of the day, they’d drive back out there and clean off the equipment and return it to its proper place.

Often, after a long day working in the hot sun, and with Collins’ encouragement, the men would take a refreshing dip in the lake. Most could swim fairly well and would race each other across the lake and back, releasing all that pent-up energy in the cool water. Others, who were not so adept, would dog paddle or crawl out to the dock and enjoy the breeze cooling off their wet, naked bodies. Yes, naked, of course. Men in the 1940s, especially out in the country, always swam naked. Though it seemed it was a new experience for several of the younger men on Collins’ crew. This was Collins’ farm after all. There were no women around, ever, and he himself never wore clothing if he didn’t have to, why should anyone else?
Each summer, there was some sort of mild, hilarious initiation for the new guys who were hired to work for Collins before heading off to school in the fall that involved getting everyone naked. After those guys’ initial shock at all this, the guys simply relaxed and enjoyed the water, the breeze, and the warm sunshine.

After a while, most of the guys headed back to the barn. When they first started working out there, Collins showed his men a back door to the barn that lead to an area that his grandfather, Charlie, had remodeled as a gymnasium with a back room for lockers and showers, years ago. Charlie wanted to build a space for local teenage boys and men where they could play sports and work out in the frigid Minnesota winters.

Now, Collins used that space for his work crews. He encouraged them to get cleaned up after a hard day’s work. Mostly because that way, their moms, wives, and or girlfriends wouldn’t have to put up with their stinky bodies, and they could all sit down to a relaxed dinner with their families. The guys all thought that was hilarious until the day they went home without showering. It was then that they knew what a smart guy their boss really was. Today, the guys, after swimming and horsing around in the water, slowly headed back to the barn. There, they dropped off their soiled uniform shirts in the bin by the door as they came in and then all headed to the showers to clean up. When the gang was all spic and span, they drove back into town for their suppers.

***************

Wilbur Schultz, the son of a long-time friend of Grandad Charlie’s, played around the Collins’s farm all the time as a kid. While his dad, Johann, and Grandad Charlie occupied themselves with other things. Because he was alone much of the time, he learned all the trails through the woods, the secret spots along the river, and the hidey-holes in the barn and other outbuildings. Wilbur and Collins were never really friends as such, seeing as how Wilbur was at least twenty years older, maybe more, than Collins.

Since Collins’ family farmhouse was unoccupied for many years, meaning no one lived on the property, though work was still done out there, it became Wilbur’s get-away-from-the-family place. These days, it was his brother Max’s sons and two daughters, who were always a handful, as well as Max’s nasty, nagging wife. Being around them day and night drove Wilbur nuts and made him want to get the hell outa there on a regular basis. There at the farm, he got his quiet and alone time, time to relax, and wind down so’s he could enjoy this lovely piece of property he remembered so fondly.

***************

So on this gorgeous Friday afternoon, after the men and boys had put in an extra-long day, as it was going to rain tomorrow, they all took their dunk in the lake. After a short swim and a lot of splashing around, the men all seemed to need to relax, let their muscles unwind, and cool down. As always, there was the usual teasing and joking going on, lots of splashes trying to punish someone for something. But before too long, they were all exhausted and ready to go in and get ready to head home.

Most every day, there were two, sometimes three cars or trucks that transported the crew from the store downtown, out to the farm. That way, they saved time and gas. It made some of the younger guys, who weren’t used to getting up so early, get to work on time too. But that also meant that if someone decided he wanted to shower before going home, everyone in that vehicle had to either wait till he finished, or join in. Mostly, they joined in. I mean, why not go get cleaned up now anyway?

BJ always teased, “That way I don’t have to smell those stinkin’ guys who didn’t shower, all the way home.”

“Or wash out your car, if it’s Ricky riding with you!” added Eddie. All the guys laughed as Eddie held his nose and punched Ricky’s arm. The youngest is always the guy who gets picked on the most.

All the men filed into the barn. Right inside the door was a laundry barrel Collins left for the men. They all wore either polos or t-shirts with the ‘Collins Garden and Landscaping’ logo stamped on them. Instead of relying on this crew of guys to wash their own shirts regularly, Collins got a neighbor farm-wife to do it. She was reliable and cheap. Above the barrel was a pile of clean shirts that the men would grab on their way out, to wear tomorrow. They could handle their own shorts or trousers themselves.

As each man passed the barrel, he peeled off his t-shirt, tossed in, then headed over to the benches to remove the rest of his clothes. Each hung his chinos or shorts on the hooks above the bench and left their socks and boots under it. Now fully naked, they headed into the showers, grabbing bars of soap from the bucket on the wall by the doorway and strolled on in. The first ones in claimed the first empty shower they found. Since there were more men than shower heads, the guys who claimed their spot first would invite their buddy over to share his spot. The rest ended up waiting for them to finish up.

It was an odd ritual to watch, or so thought Wilbur, who peered down on them. He knew the schedule of Collins’ work crew and often found a spot by the lake to watch the naked young men swim and horse around. But this spot, up here in the crawlspace over the showers, used to change lights and fix pipes, was his favorite spot to spy on the boys. With his t-shirt pulled up and his zipper down, he stroked his already hard willy while he watched them file in. He loved all the shoving, teasing, and the slaps and pinches that accompanied these playful showers.

BJ and Eddie always shared a shower, while Colin and Kevin, the two school teachers who worked the crew every summer, usually paired off too. So it was always the college men and the recent high school grads that had to either wait or accept the invitation offered by one of the guys to share his shower.

This was more of an orientation to the way things were done for the new guys than skinny dipping ever was. Eddie and BJ loved teasing the new guys. One or the other would insist that he come over and share their shower. Eddie always handed the younger guy his bar of soap and made him wash his back. Eddie kept telling him to go lower, and lower, and lower. The other guys knew what Eddie was up to. They all wanted to see how the new guy would react and how far down he’d go. They all laughed and joked with each other, waiting in anticipation. Most guys got to the top of his butt and stopped. No matter how much Eddie encouraged or complained, he wouldn’t go lower. This made the other guys howl all the more. Sometimes, either Bo or Ryan, who had worked there the longest, would go over to the new-kid, grab the soap, and vigorously wash Eddie’s butt, making Eddie bend at the waist so that he could get in there and clean him up good. The rest of the guys howled laughing at the new-kids reaction.

The rest of the guys, after seeing their bosses act so crazy, lightened up a lot. They often washed each other’s backs as well. Sometimes they even washed each other’s hair. That was easy, as most guys had their summer crewcuts that left little or no hair on their heads. All this playfulness added up, forming great friendships over the summer.

One summer, one of the newbies, who played football and hockey, knew this was all a joke, and he took Eddie on, though no one else knew it at the time. So he behaved the way most new-kids did, playing shy and reluctant to wash anywhere below Eddie’s waist. But when Eddie kept going on about, “Go lower, man. Clean me good.” He did exactly as he was told. He took the bar of soap, got his hands all sudsy, and ran them over Eddie’s butt cheek, over and over and over. Then, to the shock and surprise of Eddie, he slid the soap deep down into Eddie’s ass crack and swiped it up and down, again and again. The other guys were shocked by this. No one had ever gone that far. Cheeks? Yes. Crack, NO!

Eddie reflexively clenched his butt cheeks as the bar went down there and clamped on the guy’s hand. To steady himself, the guy grabbed Eddie’s shoulder. He leaned in and asked, loud enough so’s all the guys could hear, “How’s that, Eddie? You clean yet? I don’t mind. I want to be sure the boss is satisfied with my work. Anything else you need? I do it!”

“Nope. I’m good, thanks,” Eddie hollered as he continued to face the wall. He could not let any of the guys see his unexpected arousal. Getting a massive boner in the middle of a joke only meant one thing. The joke was on him. Eddie told BJ to go ahead and wash himself up while Eddie rinsed, allowing him time for his boner to deflate, which didn’t happen quickly enough for Eddie. It was some time before he finally turned, making a show of finishing up and shutting off the water.

BJ often did things the opposite of Eddie. He made the newbie turn around and let him do the washing. He’d run that bar of soap up over his shoulders, down his arms. He’d tell the new-kid to raise his arms and set them against the wall so he could get his pits. While doing that, he’d go on and on saying stuff like, “Your Momma is going to be so happy she doesn’t have to smell your sticky pits when you get home. She won’t hesitate to give you a big, sloppy smooch to her favorite boy.” The other guys had to all turn away because they were laughing so hard. Then BJ would reach down and run the soap over the guy’s pecs, rubbing and squeezing them good, and slathering them up real nice. After that, BJ’s hands swept around to his backside. He used long, slow, sensual strokes, getting the poor guy all suds up there, too.
The final part of BJ’s wash-up was the guy’s butt checks. There were several predictable reactions. Most of them jumped, saying something like, “I’m good now, thanks.” Others were not so polite. They’d holler, “Hey, knock that off!” or “Whatcha think you’re doing?” Those guys would turn around quickly and smack the soap out of BJ’s hand. One even swung a punch at BJ’s gut, but pulled it back wanting only to scare him, which he certainly did. When BJ fooled around like this, he knew what he was doing, and he knew how an eighteen-year-old guy was going to react. When he’d see his shower partner starting to bone up and try to hide it by facing the wall, BJ would whirl the guy around and squeal, “What have you got going on down there?” And often someone, like Colin, would shout while pointing at the new-kid’s erection, “Can’t be too awful getting scrub-down, can it?”

Once the embarrassment cooled down, the new-kid always figured out it was all a joke, a joke on him. They didn’t take anything too seriously after that. And they often turned the tables and played a joke on some other unsuspecting guy.

So, what should have probably taken five or ten minutes usually went for close to half an hour. It was playful fun and was a great way to end their long summer days. And for Wilbur, it fulfilled a wicked fantasy that he had stoked for years.

About the time the men were finishing their play-filled showers, one of the overhead lights burned out overhead. BJ was naturally jarred by that and quickly looked up to the ceiling. It was then that he saw a shadow move. And he knew.

Unlike the rest of the guys, he sometimes played reserve on the winter basketball team, filling in when needed. He knew about the crawlspace above the lockers and showers because he had climbed up there once to replace some light bulbs. The movement he saw confirmed that someone was up there watching them.

He walked out to where all the guys were changing. Most were dressed and ready to go home at this point. He walked over to Kevin, his second in command, and asked him, “Do you think you can take two more guys in the back of your truck? I got something I gotta take care of.”

“Sure thing,” said Kevin. Noting BJ’s serious tone and grimace, he asked in a whisper, “What’s going on?”

“Not now. I’ll tell you later,” BJ answered in a low voice. Then he turned and walked back into the shower room.

***************

On the far side of the room was the door that led out to the gym and the rest of the barn. Once out in that hallway, if you went the opposite direction from the gym’s entrance, there was a door leading up to the crawl space above. BJ walked over and opened the door. He looked up the stairs and hollered up to whoever stood up there, “Hey, you fucker! Get your ass down here. Now!”

There was no response. BJ walked up two or three stairs and hollered again, “You’re not going to want me to come up there after you. Get down here.”
BJ waited. There was a creak. The steps moved slowly, but steadily, until a figure stood at the top of the stairs. “Come on, get your ass down here.” BJ’s voice was calm but firm.

As the figure got about halfway down, BJ recognized Wilbur Schultz, an older man in his fifties who was a confirmed bachelor. BJ’s anger became one of confusion. He stepped back so that Wilbur could get to the bottom of the stairs. The first thing he noticed was how rumpled Wilbur looked. There were huge sweat rings from under his arms, almost all the way down to his waist. He wore a disgusting white sleeveless t-shirt that peeked out from underneath a grimy pale blue button down shirt. The tale of the shirt stuck out of the zipper of his pants. It looked like he tried to zip up quickly, and it got caught. There was also an odd looking splotch of semi-clear liquid on his boot tip

That told BJ all he needed to know.

BJ hadn’t dressed with the other guys as he wanted to figure out what was what, so he stood in the hallway with Wilbur, still wet and naked from his shower. Wilbur never looked up into BJ’s face. His eyes, BJ noticed, never left the lower half of BJ’s body. ‘He’s staring at my cock, fuckin’ asshole,’ BJ grumbled to himself. So he grimaced and asked, “You like what you see, there, Wilbur?”

This time, Wilbur did look up into BJ’s face.

“You like that, doncha?” BJ waited. Wilbur looked back down. “You like looking at my cock, doncha, man?”

Wilbur said nothing but continued staring down at it. The silence was getting to BJ, but it was the stare that he was reacting to. He could feel his cock lifting off his wet balls, just a little. He looked at Wilbur’s face and watched how intently Wilbur stared at it. That only made BJ’s cock lift a bit higher. This time, it lifted out, away from his body. “Wilbur?” BJ waited.
Wilbur raised his eyes but not his head.

BJ smiled at him. “You like my cock doncha Wilbur?” No answer. “Doncha Wilbur?” This time, BJ’s voice was firm and strong. Wilbur shook his head. He paused and began to blush. Then he nodded. When he lowered his head once more, BJ was almost fully erect. BJ’s cock was quite a bit thicker at the base. It pointed straight out and up at Wilbur’s stunned glance.

“You want that cock, Wilbur?” asked BJ, teasing him. “You wanna suck it, doncha Wilbur?” Wilbur looked back up with an astonished look on his face. “Have you ever had one in your mouth before, Wilbur? Do you like how they taste? I bet you do.”

Wilbur spoke very softly, “No.”

“No, what, Wilbur?”

“I’ve never had one in my mouth.” Before BJ could respond, Wilbur added slowly, “So… I don’t know… what it tastes like.”

“I bet you want a taste, there, Wilbur? Doncha?” BJ asked snidely. Wilbur seemed stunned by the question. “Go on then, get down on your knees,” BJ ordered. “Go for it.”

Wilbur looked up, then down, then up again.

“I’ll let you taste mine, Wilbur,” whispered BJ, “if you want a taste.” He smiled as Wilbur stared at it. Slowly, ever so slowly, Wilbur lowered himself and knelt down on the rough floor in front of BJ. BJ’s cock stood straight and tall, pulsing with excitement as blood surged within it. BJ stepped slightly forward, arching his back so’s he could wave his cock freely in front of Wilbur’s mouth. “Once my cock goes in that mouth of yours,” BJ cautioned, “it doesn’t come out till I’m done with you. You got that, Wilbur?”

Wilbur nodded.

“That means I want you to suck me. Suck me real good. Suck me till I shoot my fucking cum right down your throat. You got that, Wilbur Schultz?” Wilbur looked a little scared but nodded. “And none of that cum is gonna leak out either, is it, Wilbur? You got that, Wilbur, huh?”

Wilbur nodded his response again.

“You know what that means, Wilbur?” Wilbur shook his head. BJ went on, “It means… It means that you, Wilbur… are going to let me shoot my cum in your mouth… you’re not going to let it leak out now, are you?” Wilbur shook his head. “Good man. And you know how you’re gonna take my huge fucking load in your mouth without a drip leaking out?” Wilbur shook his head. “’Cause Wilbur, you’re gonna fuckin’ swallow all my cum! Aren’t you? You're gonna suck me good, make my cock explode in your mouth, and you’re going to swallow down every last drop of cum I shoot down into your mouth, ain’t that right?”

Wilbur nodded and stared down at the cock that would soon be inside his mouth. He opened up his mouth, nice and slow, looking up at BJ the whole time, waiting for what came next.

“Wider, man. This cock is bigger than you think. It’s going to fill that fucking mouth of yours but good.” With that, BJ grabbed the back of Wilbur’s head and shoved his cock in as far as it could go. Wilbur gasped at the surprise of it all. Then BJ began to fuck his mouth. Not too intensely at first, but as it seemed Wilbur’s mouth was adjusting pretty well for a first timer, BJ went harder and deeper with every thrust. That made Wilbur gag a bit and gasp for air. BJ pulled all the way out, letting Wilbur get a good breath, then he shoved it right back in, assaulting his mouth and throat, taking out his anger on this asshole who spied on him and the boys.

As BJ’s load finally shot out, Wilbur began to sputter. “Get your mouth wrapped tight around that cock, you shithead,” BJ hollered. “Don’t spill a drop of my juice, asshole!” Then BJ’s semen shot jet after jet into the gagging man at his feet. “Take it. Take it all, you fucker!” BJ panted as he squirted and emptied his balls into Wilbur’s too-willing mouth. Finally done, he pulled out his cock and slapped Wilbur’s face with it, leaving a trail of cum juice and spit all over his face. In response, Wilbur scrunched his eyes closed and whimpered, while that saliva-covered cock, dripping with semen, smeared goop all across his face.

BJ stepped back and turned away from Wilbur. He was shocked by himself. He couldn’t believe he did this. It disgusted him. He had never behaved like that, ever. But he had also never felt such rage at someone who was playing Peeping Tom on his boys.

When he turned around, Wilbur, still on his knees on the dirty floor, stared blankly up at him. His face was wet with swipes of gunk all over it. BJ walked over to him and saw a spot of cum on the floor by his knee. He looked at Wilbur and pointed down at the cum spot. When Wilbur saw it, without any direction from BJ, he immediately bent down and licked the floor clean.
That gesture disgusted BJ even more. He was mad enough at Wilbur, but was getting more and more angry with himself. This wasn’t how he wanted to be. He shook his head in anger at himself and started to walk away. Then, over his shoulder, he snarled at Wilbur, “Get the fuck outta here, you shitfaced fuck.” Then he whipped around and added more angrily, “and never come out here again!”

Wilbur scrambled up off the floor and ran down the steps, heading toward the outside door. BJ stepped into the shower room and turned on the hot water. He needed to scrub himself clean. Especially after what he’d just done. He felt more dirty now than he did after any of his worst workdays. He dressed swiftly, locked up, and jumped in the truck. Then drove home as fast as he could get away with.

***************