Idle Hands
It was a slow Tuesday afternoon. Only two cars were in the bays, and the phone had been quiet for over an hour. Jack stood behind the front counter, half-heartedly trying to reorganize a stack of invoices, but his mind kept wandering. He reached under the counter, pulled out the small crochet project he’d been working on, and quietly began looping the yarn around the hook, his small hands moving in steady, repetitive motions.
Dylan walked up from the back, wiping his hands on a rag. “Hey, the computer’s acting up again. Mind if I take a look?”
Flustered, Jack stepped aside. “Umm…yeah, sure.”
Dylan leaned in close, standing right beside Jack so their shoulders almost touched. The strong, unmistakable smell of motor oil, old sweat, and grease rolled off him in waves. Jack could feel the heat coming off Dylan’s lean, wiry body. He noticed Dylan’s determined stare and confident presence. His hair was tousled in a sexy mop. His jaw line was sharp and framed by the faint stubble along his throat. His scent was earthy, masculine, and strangely comforting. Jack’s cock gave a slow, heavy throb inside his boxer shorts.
Dylan tapped at the keyboard, frowning at the screen. “There it is… stupid glitch.” He fixed it quickly, then straightened up. “Should be good now.”
Jack felt his face grow warm. “Th…thanks, Dylan,” he said softly, the words coming out a little too quiet and a little too breathy. He quickly looked down at the counter, suddenly unable to meet Dylan’s eyes.
Dylan gave Jack a small, almost shy nod and headed back toward the work floor.
Jack watched him go, heart beating faster, wishing he had said more. Once Dylan disappeared into the back, the shop fell quiet again.
The afternoon dragged. Jack’s mind kept drifting to Dylan --- the smell of him, the way his body moved, the memory of that one intense night a year ago that they both pretend never happened.
Jack peeked in on the work floor, where Dylan was working on a truck up on the lift. He was stripped down to just his stained blue coveralls with the top half unzipped and tied around his waist, leaving him in a thin, sweat-soaked white wife-beater that clung to his lean, wiry torso. The fabric was almost transparent from sweat, showing the outline of his nipples and the dark hair on his chest.
As Jack watched, Dylan reached up high to work on something under the truck, causing the tank top to ride up and expose a strip of his lower back and the top of his ass crack above the coveralls. A bead of sweat ran down his spine. Dylan wiped his face with the bottom of the tank top, briefly flashing his flat, sweaty stomach and the sharp V-line disappearing into his coveralls.
Jack's cock was now at full mast. He glanced around to make sure no customers were coming, then slipped one hand under the counter and into his shorts. He wrapped his fingers around his thick shaft and started stroking slowly, eyes half-closed as he pictured Dylan bent over a truck on the lift.
He didn’t hear Big Bill coming until it was too late.
The enormous man rounded the corner from the hallway and stopped dead, staring at the pretty blond behind the counter with his hand clearly moving inside his boxers, his swollen cock head peeking up over the waistband.
“Well, well,” Big Bill rumbled, voice low and amused. “Looks like someone’s bored.”
Jack froze, cheeks flushing, but he didn’t pull his hand away. Big Bill’s eyes darkened with lust.
“Rusty! Coop! Get in here,” Big Bill called out, not taking his eyes off Jack. “And bring the other three. Our new front-end guy needs some… hands-on training.”
Rusty and Coop appeared almost instantly, followed by three more mechanics from the back bays: Hank, a burly bald man in his late forties with a thick, hairy chest and powerful arms; Pete, a lean, tattooed guy in his early thirties with a goatee and sharp eyes; and Vic, a grizzled, mid-fifties man with strong, veiny hands and a perpetual five-o’clock shadow.
All five men stared at Jack with open hunger as he continued to stroke his thick cock behind the counter, now nearly completely out of his shorts.
Big Bill grinned. “Don’t stop on our account, kid. Show us what you were doing.”
Jack’s cheeks flushed, but he kept his soft, innocent expression as he slowly pumped his fist up and down his shaft, the bell-shaped head already leaking. The mechanics moved in closer, surrounding the counter.
Rusty was first. The stocky red-haired man stepped behind the counter, dropped to his knees, and swallowed Jack’s cock to the root in one swift motion, his thick beard tickling Jack’s smooth groin. Jack let out a soft, sweet moan, one hand resting gently on Rusty’s head.
Coop moved in next. The tall, unshaven man stood beside Jack, unzipped his coveralls, and fed his long cock into the boy’s pretty mouth. Jack sucked obediently, eyes closed, while Coop gently fucked his face.
Hank, the burly bald mechanic, took Jack’s free hand and wrapped it around his thick, veiny, leaking cock, grunting as the small blond stroked him.
Pete and Vic stood on the other side of the counter, stroking themselves while they watched. Pete, the lean tattooed one, reached over and pinched one of Jack’s exposed pink nipples, making the boy whimper around Coop’s cock.
Big Bill watched with satisfaction, occasionally giving instructions. “That’s it, boys. Break him in nice and slow.”
They rotated around Jack for the next twenty minutes, taking their time and using him however they wanted.
Rusty stayed on his knees the longest, sucking Jack’s cock with slow, hungry strokes while Hank stood beside him, feeding his thick cock into Jack’s pre-cum soaked hand. Jack stroked him as best he could, his small fingers barely able to wrap around Hank’s heavy shaft. Every so often Hank would reach down and pinch one of Jack’s nipples, making the boy whimper around whatever cock was currently in his mouth.
Coop and Pete took turns at Jack’s face. Coop fucked his mouth in long, lazy strokes, holding the back of Jack’s head while Pete stood beside him, stroking his own cock and occasionally slapping the head of it against Jack’s cheek. When Coop pulled out to let Jack breathe, Pete immediately pushed in, his lean, tattooed body leaning over the counter as he fucked Jack’s pretty mouth with quick, eager thrusts.
Vic joined in after a while, reaching over the counter to play with Jack’s chest and stomach, his rough hands roaming freely while the others used him. At one point he leaned in and sucked one of Jack’s nipples into his mouth, biting down just hard enough to make Jack moan loudly around the cock in his throat.
Big Bill stayed where he was, arms crossed, watching everything with a satisfied smirk. Every now and then he’d give a quiet instruction — “Let him breathe for a second,” or “Hank, switch with Pete,” or “Rusty, use your tongue on his balls” — and the men would adjust without complaint, casually passing Jack around like he belonged to all of them.
Jack was a mess by the end of it. His lips were swollen and shiny with spit, his chin and neck streaked with precum. His hand moved automatically from cock to cock, and his mouth stayed open, accepting whoever pushed in next. He moaned softly every time someone played with his nipples or reached down to squeeze his balls, his small body twitching on the counter as the men took their time breaking him in.
Finally Peter and Vic dropped to their knees behind Jack. They spread his firm round cheeks and took turns licking his tiny pink rosebud, their tongues swirling and probing while Hank fucked Jack’s face and Rusty and Coop each slid their cocks into one of the boy’s smooth, sweaty armpits, thrusting between the soft skin and the half-open shirt.
Hank quickly came down Jack’s throat with a guttural groan, pumping thick ropes straight into his belly. As soon as Hank stepped back, Rusty and Coop shoved both their cocks into Jack’s stretched mouth at the same time, the two shafts sliding together over his tongue.
Peter and Vic stood up, their faces shiny with spit. Peter lined up first and slid his cock into Jack’s slick hole, followed immediately by Vic. The two mechanics double-penetrated him, their cocks rubbing together inside the boy’s velvet tunnel.
Big Bill, now naked from the waist down, whistled low. “Goddamn… the kid’s getting double spit-roasted! Fuck yeah!”
Rusty pulled out of Jack’s mouth and pumped a heavy load down the boy’s back. The cum dribbled down his spine and onto Peter and Vic’s thrusting cocks, which then fucked the warm seed deep into Jack’s guts.
Vic unloaded first, flooding Jack’s hole while Peter kept pounding, churning the fresh cum inside him. Coop and Peter continued the now-single spit-roast, staring intently at each other as they fucked harder and faster until they both unloaded simultaneously --- Coop all over Jack’s sweet innocent face and Peter deep in his ass.
At this point Big Bill stepped forward, knelt down behind Jack’s quivering ass, spread his cheeks wide, and sucked out the mixed sperm, swallowing it with obvious hunger. He then rolled up his sleeve and pushed two thick fingers into Jack’s hole, then three, then four, and finally his whole hand. Jack moaned and shivered, eyes fluttering. Bill wasn’t sure if he was just playing with the boy or subconsciously punishing him because both he and his son were so smitten with the angelic blond. After a few slow, deep thrusts of his fist, Bill quickly withdrew it with a wet pop.
Finally Big Bill decided it was time for the finale.
“Turn around, kid,” Bill rumbled. “Hands on the counter.”
Jack obediently bent over the front counter, his round little ass presented to the five men.
Big Bill stepped up first, lined up his enormous cock, and pushed into Jack’s loosened hole in one long, relentless thrust. Jack moaned sweetly as the massive shaft filled him completely.
One by one the mechanics took their turns behind the counter. Rusty fucked him hard and fast, his thick beard brushing Jack’s back. Coop slid in next with long, deep strokes. Hank, Pete, and Vic each had their turn, pounding the sweet blond while the others stroked themselves or played with Jack’s swinging cock and balls.
Jack stayed soft and sweet the entire time, moaning gently and pushing back against every cock, his eyes rolling back in pleasure.
They came one after another, flooding Jack’s ass. More and more sperm squirted out of his stretched hole with each thrust, barely visible as it dripped down the insides of his milky white thighs.
By the time they were finished, Jack was a dripping, cum-covered mess behind the counter, his boxer shorts around one ankle, his shop shirt wide open, and his pretty face glazed.
Big Bill patted Jack’s cum-streaked cheek. “Good boy. Welcome to the team.”
None of them noticed Dylan still working quietly in the back bay on the truck, completely unaware of what had just happened only thirty feet away.
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