Chuck

Twenty five-ish years ago, where I worked were many attractive guys: Robert, Chris, Toby, Evan, Rich, Tony… the list was long. But the one I had a big-time crush on was Chuck. Chuck was a year older than me, we were the same height (5’9”), he weighed about 180-190. He had blue eyes, red goatee, a shaved head and a small, bowling ball-belly. He had the cutest chuckle when he laughed and the absolute best ass I’d seen up to that time (and even today, one of the top 5 I’ve ever seen). Needless to say, my early twenty-something self, made sure we became fast friends. 

He was married to a ‘woman’ who was an absolute bitch and had two small kids. So, when he was home, he was always in the garage. Being a car guy myself, I latched on to that fact and spent many a weekend with him, working in his garage just so I could be close to him. In the hot months, he’d be in the garage with no shirt. His legs were nice and relative hairy, but he was pretty smooth from the waist up. He had a small treasure trail, a scattering of single hairs on his chest, and hairs around his nipples.

One day there, I had to pee. The kids and the bitch were gone, so I went inside to the bathroom. In the waste basket was a condom. I thought it odd that it was there, not covered up. But I assumed they weren’t expecting company. His wife may have been a bitch, but he always talked about how much sex they had, which is why he stayed with her as long as he did, I suspect. As I pees, I noticed the right across from the toilet was the shower and between both of them was the widow to the driveway.

Back in the garage, the conversation eventually turned to sex, as it always does young, healthy guys when no women are around. I got him to tell me that he sleeps nude, and they tend to have sex in the early morning before he goes to work. The rest of the day I don’t remember there, as my mind was mulling over this information. I hatched a plan, but as this was a Saturday, I’d need to wait until Monday.

Monday morning my alarm went off at 4AM. I got ready and drove to Chuck’s house. I parked on the street a few houses from his and walked in the 4:30AM darkness in ‘not the best area’ of the city, to his house. I stood outside his bathroom window and, knowing roughly what time he woke up for work, waited. Periodically the police would drive by, and I’d hid behind the trash can he kept next to his house. One more than one occasion, the neighbor behind his place would come out to his deck to smoke. I had to stay perfectly still, up against his house, until the neighbor went back inside. 

Once the light would come on, I’d look around the corner and would watch Chuck walk in the bathroom, naked, and do things like pee, shave, what have you. I found out visually that his ‘eight inches’ was anything but eight inches. That said, his balls were nicely sized, his bush was bushy without being crazy, and his, probably six inches, curved up nicely, pointing at his belly button and treasure trail. 

Once he stepped into the shower, I’d walk back to my car, get to work before most anyone else, hit the bathroom in the front office and bust a well earned nut before the workday started. I did this for two or three weeks, most every weekday morning. I became more brazen each time, it seemed. I’d stay in the window longer, let more of my face look into the window, stay there longer watching him dress after the shower, etc. Then, one morning, things changed when my luck ran out.

I was tired and off my game so I wasn’t paying as much attention as I should have been when the light came on. Like normal, I popped my head up to see what was happening and, to my surprise, his face was turned towards the window looking back. Our eyes met. Any hardon I had at the time quickly vanished, as did I. Hightailing back to my car, I drove to work, nervous about what he’d say when I saw him. I could have stayed home ‘sick’, but eventually, I’d need to go back to work, where we’d see each other.

The clock seemed to move slower than normal as people filled in the closer it came to normal work hours. I watched for Chuck to arrive, nervously. Would be out me? Punch me? I didn’t know. Then, he came walking around the corner directly at me. I swallowed hard, frozen in place.

“Mikey!” he said, lightly punching me in the stomach like friends tend to do.

“Hey. What’s – what’s up?” I asked after recoiling from the flinch my body took automatically, as I expected the worse.

“Just another day in paradise!” he said as he continued to walk past. I turned, following him with my eyes, almost in disbelief. After a few seconds, he turned and winked, never missing a beat as he walked towards his boss’s office. The remainder of the morning was a blur. Did he not see me? How could he not, I wondered? Our eyes locked together for, what seemed like, minutes (but was actually maybe two seconds).

“Hey” I hear from behind me while I’m doing my work. I recognize Chuck’s voice. I inhale deeply. Surely this will be it! Earlier we were around several people. Now I’m here by myself. Just him and I. I turned as he approached.

“Hey” I replied.

“Carrie and the kids will be gone to her parents’ for a few days. Want to come over today and help me finish the car?” he asked.

I stood there, not knowing what to say. His blue eyes seemed to glitter this morning more than normal.

“Well?” he asked, his arms out to his side as if saying ‘What do you say?’.

“Oh yeah. Sure. Ok” I stumbled. “What time?”

“Seven?”

“OK. I’ll have to go home and shower first” I said.

“Yeah. Don’t want you stinky” he replied with is dimpled, crooked smile.

The day finished, I went home, showered, put on some old clothes, and headed to his place. Once there, it was only his cars – Carrie and the kids were, indeed, gone.

He grabbed us some drinks and we went into the garage. It was the fall so the evenings were getting cooler, so he closed the garage door and turned on the portable heater. Soon enough, we were both hot and we removed out long sleeved shirts. I had a white tee shirt underneath, and he wore his typical wife beater which, on him, looked quite good. 

Everything was going quite well – I had forgotten about the potential of being caught at the window – and we were finishing the car for the night. Of course, the subject for the majority of the time there was of Carrie, how horrible she treats him and, oddly enough, how he’s been sex starved for a few weeks. This is out of the norm for his typical stories. I suggested the ‘take matters in his own hand’. He responded, strangely, that he doesn’t like touching his own dick – never has. He doesn’t even hold it when he pees. 

“How does that work?” I asked, honestly curious. “Aren’t you getting piss everywhere?”

“Nah” he replied confidently. It just hangs there and I do my business.”

I shrugged my eyebrows as if saying ‘well, ok then’ and turned.

“But you wouldn’t know that, would you?” he asked.

“Huh?” I replied, still looking away picking up my tools.

“From the other morning. At the window.”

“What do you-“my mind raced until it came to the inevitable conclusion as to what he was referring. Time stopped. I had to swallow hard to keep my heart from escaping my mouth. I could feel every pore on my face open up at once and release stress sweat. My mind raced. I was alone, in a closed garage, in a shady part of town, with a guy with access to large, heavy tools, that did see me peeping in his window!

I didn’t know what to say so I said nothing. I tried to think of an excuse, but none were believable, even on the best day. I heard footsteps behind me. I spun around. 

Chuck was about three or four feet from me, his goateed smile crooked, but also sinister at the same time. Something I’ve never seen from him in the two years’ we’ve known each other.

“It’s OK. Mikey” he said taking a step closer.

“What’s OK?” I asked, playing stupid.

“That you were looking at me earlier. Through the window. Early in the morning.”

“I… I don’t know….” I tried to say.

“It’s OK. Fact is…” he said taking a step closer “I kinda’ like being watched. It turns me on. Did you like what you saw?”

If my eyes were any bigger, they would have popped out of my skull onto the concrete floor. “I’m… I…” Damn it. I couldn’t say anything. What could I say that made sense other than the honesty of “I think you’re hot and wanted to see you naked”?

He stepped up close to me. I could feel his breath on my face as we stared into each other’s eyes, in a very un-romantic sort of way.

“Carrie’s gone. She hasn’t put out in weeks. I could use a good blow job. You saw it. You know I’m hung. And I know you want it!”

Well, two out of three isn’t bad, I thought to myself, causing me a small, nervous chuckle.

“What’s so funny? That you’re gonna suck my dick? You find that funny?” he growled.

“N-no” I stammered, somewhat confused and turned on, in a weird, heretofore unknown way.

He stepped back and, without breaking eye contact, unbuckled his pants. I stood there, up against the tool bench, stupefied as to what was happening.

He pulled down his pants to reveal hideous boxers. Any guy who wore these ugly boxers was definitely straight, I thought. He left his pants fall to the floor as ‘little Chuck’ seemed to bounce out, freed from its denim prison. 

“Well, get to it” he commanded. 

Like a good slave, I dropped to my knees, not caring how cold and dirty the floor was that night. He stepped forward. I could feel the heat from his genitals in the now cooled garage. He made ‘little Chuck’ bounce to catch my attention.

I’ve been with guys before so I wasn’t a noob, but this situation was different to my brain. I had to shake that feeling off and get into dick-sucking mode.

I ran my hand up the outside of his legs, which were nicely toned, feeling every coarse hair that lived there. Unfortunately, as they made their way around to his beautiful ass, the hairs lessened. I grabbed the leg hole of his boxers and pulled them down slowly. Inch by inch that beautiful, full bush I saw earlier presented itself. His upward hooked cock caught on the waist band and was pulled down with the boxers, exposing more and more bush until the base of his cock was visible. Even though I saw it earlier threw the window, I hadn’t seen it this close. I could not only feel the heat it put off, but smell the scent that accompanied it; a sweaty, masculine, ‘workin’ man’s’ scent. Intoxicating is an understatement. 

As the smell hit my nose, my brain fully switched from apprehension to ‘all in’. I pulled the back of his boxers down below his ass cheeks, allowing my hands to feel smooth their firmness, before I moved them to the front where the business was going to happen.

As the waistband cleared his dick head, it sprung back like a tightly wound spring, slapping his stomach hard, the sound echoing in the garage. He groaned a combination of pain and delight. As the boxers fell on top of his jeans, his hairy balls shown themselves, the cold garage air causing them to churn and pull back up to his body.

I studied his dick up close. How the vein ran down the top of the shaft to his cut head. How the head seemed more pointed than wide. How the shaft narrowed from the thick base to pointy head. I have to admit, I was hoping for ‘bigger’ but this was ‘Chuck’ – my crush – whom I’ve jacked off thinking about literally almost every day for the past year or two. And he was giving himself to me.

Grabbing the base, I pointed it down at my mouth and in one, quick gulp (before he could change his mind) I took him in, burying my nose in his wiry bush. 

From above, I heard him inhale sharply. In doing so, he pushed his body into my more, smashing my nose against him. I felt hands grab my head.

“Yeah. Suck that big hairy dick!” he hissed as he pulled out, only to thrust back into my mouth. He must have been desperate to get off because he didn’t take his time. Within a second or two of my tongue tasting his musky cock, he was face fucking me like he didn’t know my name. Or care. 

Each thrust seemed to be harder. The wet noises of wet lips smacking flesh and his moaning filled the garage. I held the back of his thighs hoping he didn’t fuck me over off of him, he was thrusting so fast. His balls, which initially were pulled up next to him, started to hang. I could feel them slapping against my face, eventually down to my chin. 

My spit covered his veiny torpedo, dripping down off of him, onto his jeans and boxers. He moaned and groaned and muttered words I couldn’t understand. He needed this bad, as I’ve never been face fucked that hard since. But I was more than happy to help him out.

“Oh my God!” he screamed as his balls pulled up against him again, even though he never relented his oral assault on me. “I’m gonna blow!” He never gave me the chance to pull off and away, but I wouldn’t have anyway. Knowing I was going to get Chuck Nut soon, I rose up, shoving my head into him, making sure I got every inch and every drop of what he was about to give me.

“Swallow, bitch!” he commanded as he shoved himself into me hard and held me there, emptying his sac of fluid. I felt two or three jets flood my mouth as he held the back of my head with one hand, my throat with the other. I looked up past his fuzzy bowling ball belly into his blue eyes as he squirted the last few drops into me. He grimaced and growled as he looked down at me while I swallowed his swimmers. They were a lot saltier than I imagined. He ground my face against his pubic hair as, swallowing his load, started to circle my tongue around his shaft. He quivered as my tongue grazed his sensitive head over and over again. He tried to pull away, but I had his thighs tight. I wanted him to know he was in total control.

His body buckled as I worked his head. “Fuck!” he screamed. “Stop stop stop!” he pleaded, finally pulling away and pushing me back against the tool bench. I watched his body heave with each breath he tried to catch, as his wet dick still pointing at his belly started to lose its rigidity. He backed up to the car and leaned against it. I stood slowly as Chuck tried to regain his composure, which is harder than one might imagine when you, as a straight get, just got the best blow job ever by another guy in your garage! In silence, he pulled his boxers and jeans up at the same time. I rearranged my one pleading dick in my pants.

“So, I guess…well…” he said, still trying to catch his breath. “I didn’t expect that tonight!”

“Me either.” I replied, my mouth still salty from his load.

As he fastened his jeans, he went about his way, picking up his tools. I didn’t know what to say or do. “So…” he said breaking the silence. “That was, well, fucking amazing” he said with a laugh. “If I knew you could do that, I’d have had you out here in the garage sooner!”

“But we can’t tell anyone about this” he cautioned. 

“Totally” I confirmed.

“But damn Mike. You’re skilled. You gay?”

“I am.” 

“Is that why you’ve been spying on me in the mornings?”

I was taken aback as I only thought he knew of the one time I was caught. “Ye-yeah” I said coyly.

“That’s cool. I guess. I’m not, just so you know. But Carrie doesn’t… can’t… do what you just did. I’ve never jizzed so quick on a blow job before. Ever!”

“Well, I am to please” I said, with a smile.

“Yes, yes you do!” he replied. “Listen: if we keep this between us, maybe, we can… do it again?”

“Sure” I said casually.

After cleaning up, I drove home. Once home, I blew the biggest wad I had ever to that point, remembering what happened thirty minutes earlier!

And that started the affair I had with a married man. We got together many, many times after that. But, as life does, it takes you on different paths.

Recently, I received a message on social media from Chuck. He hasn’t aged well. But I have. So, I didn’t answer the message. I’d prefer to remember the Chuck I was into from back then. Does that make me a bitch? Maybe. Maybe not.