Glancing at the clock, Dawson wondered what was taking the new guy so long. Granted, when he'd send his regular partner to get some burgers, Tubby Telly, as they called him, it could take close to a half hour before he would be waddling back with their meal. Still, Chip was no Tubby Telly, he was a Jock, and this was his first night working the graveyard shift.

The guy had promise, though he did seem a little dense, in grasping that you didn't pump the gas close to the amount, but pumped it to the exact amount. Granted, it took a bit of time, but so far he had been all over the place. Yet most of the regulars didn't seem to mind, which surprised him. Not like they gave him any slack, even when he first started working the Graveyard Shift.

Thinking about it, he didn't think it was because his smile was any less friendly, or his looks any worse than Chip's. Okay, so he hadn't been a jock when in High School. He was nearly 20, studying hard to get through the local community college. Chipper on the other hand, was fresh out of High School, and just 18.

Maybe it was his hair? The way his shaggy hair would bounce as he'd trot out to help, or how his chest must look through the windshield as he stretched across them to wipe them clean could be the reason, but he had a pretty good muscular build too. So what was it, that made them accept his over pumping? His basket didn't look any more inviting than his, and frankly he figured he had more meat hiding behind those tight fitting black denim pants, they all wore, than Chip did.

What was it that got them all drooling, forgetting to be their normal whining bitching selves? Surely it wasn't his age, because frankly, he still got carded everywhere he went. Whether the local bar, liquor store or anywhere, no one bought that he was just 20. Chip didn't have that baby face quality, though he was good looking. Everything was well proportioned, the lips with the mouth, the nose, the green eyes and the hair. It all fit, even the hollow looking cheeks, and the rest of him was just as well put together.

Dawson hated training new guys, though he had to admit, it could be fun. Still, while Tully was not a raving beauty, he knew how to pump gas, how to wipe windows, and best of all, he wasn't a chatterbox. When Tully worked, he could always count on getting an hour or two of sleep, without worrying. Now with Chip, well, that wouldn't happen.

The guy was pleasant enough, and from that first introduction, Dawson couldn't help but think of what he would be like naked, and in his bed. Not like he would dare try to find out, unless certain signs were given. However, as much as the boss hired young guys, and most were lookers, after working here for nearly 4 years, he hadn't found one that was, how shall he say it, family?

Hell most of them were homophobic slime, if you were to judge them by all their comments. Though frankly he was pretty certain he had more sex than most of them combined. Christ, the bullshit that came out of people's mouths, trying to impress each other with their sexual conquests. Trouble was, he could see through the B.S.

It had been awhile since his last fling, and Dawson knew he was ready for another. Hard to do, when you worked the graveyard shift, which explained why he was having a hard time tonight. The notion of 'training' Chip in other ways seemed to be on his mind, and he had some difficulty in hiding his obvious attraction from the guy. So far, knock on wood, he had managed, but even now, just thinking about it was giving him another friggin erection.

Erections at night were fun, because he could always send Tully off and whack off in relative safety. Wasn't so easy with Chip around, who really was the cause of his discomfort. Tully, well he wasn't into that kind of twink, but he did enjoy a good wank during his shift. And Chip certainly made for good wanking material. Hell, he enjoyed it anytime, but the graveyard shift was perfect for those moments.

The risk of a customer driving up, having to quickly yank the pants up to rush out and pump the gas. It all was a thrill, that he enjoyed. Still, he didn't want to get caught, and while he normally had a good whack off when Tully was off getting food, he didn't want to risk it with Chip. He had no idea how long he would take, but looking at the clock again, he rather wished he had taken the chance. The guy was slower than Tully, but oh so much better looking.

Dawson knew he didn't have time but he couldn't help himself. He ached too much to ignore it, and he would see Chip returning, long before Chip could see what he was doing. Glancing around, checking the time, he felt his hand across his groin, felt it pushing at his blood gorged pole. The constant comparison of Chip to Tully had done its work. He could feel his dick hard, feel it tugging at the pants, wanting to be free.

The pop of the button startled him a bit, as he looked all around, making sure no one was about. He took extra care in checking down the road, from where Chip would appear. Still no sign of him, and he knew that it would take the guy at least a few minutes to jog up to the gas bar. So he felt safe enough to reach down into his pants, to let his fingers caress his erect dick. It felt good, and the instant his fingers touched it, he felt it move, felt it jerk a little, as if it knew what was to come.

He leaned back a little, spread his legs apart a bit further, to give his hand more easy access. Dawson rubbed his dick, feeling it shake to his touch, then he moved his hand up under his shirt, to rub across his belly. A quick glance down the road, then he let his head tilt back, as his hand moved up, pinched one of his firm nipples. God it felt good, as he closed his eyes for a moment. He could see Chip's face, see those thin lips with a small curl to them, as if hiding a secret smile behind. The guy was certainly hot looking, and would be fun to undress, he thought, as his hand moved back down, sliding underneath the waistband of his shorts.

The touch of his hand across his pubic hairs made him shiver a bit, and he opened his eyes, glancing down the road. Still no Chip, which made his fingers run along the stiffened pole, to slowly wrap themselves around the shaft, just under his cock head. It added to the quivering inside, made his legs spread apart even more. His chest began to ache a bit, as he kept his eyes focused down the road, his mind thinking of how it would feel to have Chip down under the counter. To have his mouth partially open, waiting for Dawson to offer him his cock.

Dawson felt his eyes blink, felt his body growing hotter, despite the coolness of the night. Sweat was beginning to bead up on his forehead, as his closed hand moved up and over his cock head. The feel of the thick pre cum only made his legs tremble, made his chest heave. The notion of having Chip below, of him waiting for his cock was unreal. It was making him ache in a way he hadn't felt for some time, as his hand began to push down the long trembling pole. The pre cum helping to lubricate the flesh, but only momentarily.

A quick glance, and he found his hand back up and near his own mouth. He put his fingers into his mouth, moistening them, then quickly he took them and wrapped them, once more, around his cock. It felt better, as he let them coat his cock, and he began to slowly stroke his dick.

He could hear his shallow breathing echoing in his ears, as he shut his eyes, bringing up an image of Chip. How he would look, kneeling below him, how his lips would be moist from being licked in anticipation. How his eyes would be wide open, staring right at Dawson's cock, watching ever movement it made, every jerk of the head, every drip of the pre cum. How his tongue would flick out, wanting to catch that drip, how his brow would shine from the glistening sweat that had popped up. It all filled his vision, as his hand moved faster up and down his pole.

The idea of Chip, of being able to feed him his cock was intoxicating. His body felt so hot right now, sweat was dripping between his legs. It really was happening so fast, so unlike him. His body was stiffening, his balls were aching, as his closed fist would push back into them, with each stroke down. His lips parted, he moaned a bit, as the hand began to move even faster.

In the back of his mind he knew he should look, should open his eyes to make sure he was safe, but the thought of Chip was more powerful. The notion of him wanting to take his load, was just too overwhelming. He couldn't push the image aside, push aside that shaggy hair bouncing, those thin lips parted. It was too much as he felt his body surrender to that image.

The cry startled him, but he knew it was his. His body shook, as the hot milk came gushing out, pushing past his clenched fingers. He felt it ooze out from between the fingers, to splatter upwards, to coat his belly. He heard himself breathing hard, felt his buttock clench tightly, as his hips shot forward, then sink back down. His body trembling, as the cum oozed out, then dribbled down his spent cock.

His hand dropped to his side, the strength needed to hold them up gone. His whole body felt like it had just been drained of all energy. Dawson could feel the sweat dripping down his cheeks, felt the heat from being flushed, as his hand dangled beside him. His chest hurt too, as he struggled to try and sit back up. Never had he cum so fast, so hard, and so much. It was like every drop of his precious milk had spurted out in one single stream, though he knew it hadn't.

Wiping his hand on his side, he felt the night chill, as he struggled to finally open his eyes. Sudden panic hit him, as he realized he wasn't alone. His eyes fluttered, not sure if they wanted to open or not. There had been no noise, no sound of a car coming up, nor of the door opening even. Yet he knew, without opening his eyes, he wasn't alone.

Slowly he sat up, unsure if he should reach down, to pull the pants up or not. Opening his eyes he closed them quickly. The bright lights of the room were harsh but he opened them again, seeing no one in front. He sighed, but then stiffened, as he turned his face to the side. His hands, that were reaching down to pull up the pants, froze in mid reach.

He knew that figure, that shape that filled his eyes. Dawson didn't know what to do, as he looked up into the young man's face. He saw the thin curl of lips, the hint of his teeth just showing, as he leaned against the door. His eyes were fixed on Dawson's crotch.

'How long you been standing there?' he asked, as he figured he'd try to brazen it out. His hands once more moved towards the pants, to yank them up.

'Long enough to hear you call my name'

The pants were covering his groin but they trembled as he felt a cold chill run up and down his spine. He didn't recall calling Chip's name out, but as he looked into the young man's eyes, he knew he wasn't lying. A lot of crazy thoughts were running through his mind, as he sat there, not sure what to say, or do even. He didn't think Chip would attack him, but would he tell?

'Uh, you must have heard wrong, I uh..'

'Nope, it was Chip, no mistake in that Dude.'




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