Four months after leaving high school I was paying the price for having been a shit student. Arrogantly, I had always shunned homework and now found myself in the same position as millions of youngsters around the country, battling to find employment. Hard as I tried, there were simply no jobs available.
Thankfully, I was still living with my parents but with every passing day, my dad was becoming more and more irritated by my inactivity. Finally, my dad arrived home elated one afternoon, gushing about a possible job he had found for me.
An acquaintance of his offered to interview me for a job as a security officer at a warehouse in our town. It was the graveyard shift from nine p.m. till six a.m., six days a week. I cannot say I was delighted, but ‘something is better than nothing’ as the saying goes.
Having got the job I was issued with two sets of overalls. The two-piece overalls were a dirty grey in colour and really ugly. The revolting brown boots that were supplied also didn’t help matters. White t-shirts formed part of the uniform along with a disgusting cap that we had to wear.
The next shock awaiting me was when I met my partner Kev, a thirty-something individual. Kev was a real hick. He was lanky and skanky and very much on the dirty side. Kev was married and he and his wife lived with his mother-in-law. They had two daughters, and Vera, Kev’s wife, worked at a diner from six a.m. till three p.m. daily, six days a week.
As I would come to know, Kev had three passions; fucking, porn, and fixing vehicles. After arriving home after six in the morning Kev would sleep till two p.m., before fixing cars and pickups till five in the afternoon. This explained his icky hands and the number of blackened nails, no doubt struck by some or other tool as he indulged in his hobby. Being the senior partner on our shift he was effectively my boss.
For the first few evenings of our partnership, Kev was out of sorts with a rather bad head cold and interaction was minimal. After a few days, however, his health improved and he became a lot more animated and engaging. Scummy as he was, Kev was actually quite good-looking in the roughest possible way. Although personal hygiene was not part of his daily regime, working the graveyard shift negated that priority, as it was only ever the two us over the nine-hour shift.
When Kev removed the jacket of his overall, the t-shirts he wore always had stained yellow patches under his armpits. His body odour also ranged from ripe to overripe, dependant no doubt on his infrequent showering routine. Between patrols when he removed his cap, his hair looked like it had been pasted to his head. Shampoo was also obviously in short supply his home. Besides all the negatives, however, there was an obscene bulge in the front of his trousers.
Kev was definitely not the brightest person in the world. I am no genius but in comparison to him, I was as brilliant as the sun. When Kev showed me a picture of his family I was taken aback. His wife was enormous and unattractive, and their daughters were miniature versions of the mother. Further snaps of the house they all lived in, also took the word dishevelled to a whole new level.
Our ‘office’ was a small prefabricated shed situated at the back of the plant. We had monitors, a table, two chairs, and personal lockers. There was also a clock that would chime every half hour, signalling our next patrol.
After one of our patrols a few evenings on, as we were about to enter our shed he said, “Hold on, I need to take a piss.”
Opening the front of his trousers Kev pulled out the biggest cock I had ever seen. When he finished pissing and shaking his tool, the thing flopped halfway his thighs.
Unable to resist, I exclaimed, “Fuck Kev… that must be one of the biggest cocks I’ve ever seen!”
Laughing he replied, “Small brain, huge cock.”
I could not help thinking, that if his philosophy was correct, he simply couldn’t have a brain at all.
“That’s why I like big women,” he continued, “because they squeal less. A big woman can take my shlong, comfortably.”
Then, after entering the shed he inquired, “So tell me about your girl.”
“Don’t have one,” I replied, “I’m too poor.”
After nodding his head insightfully, he asked, “Do you have a computer?”
“Yes… why?” I countered.
“Bring it tomorrow,” he instructed. “I have some interesting stuff to show you.”
The following evening I was first shown a few of the magazines that he kept in his locker. They were all of fat women being fucked in various positions. Judging by the condition of the magazines, they had obviously been well perused.
Next, after switching my computer on, we were watching movies of one or more women surrounded by a multitude of guys, fucking and spunking all over them. Kev just loved this sort of porn and had a pile of these DVDs.
After initially being put-off by Kev, with every passing shift I strangely began to find him more appealing. Even his skanky disposition began to offend me less and less. Above all, I began to fantasize about his cock and always made sure to join him for a piss. I drank copious amounts of water to ensure that I would not miss out seeing his incredible dong when we needed to piss.
When we weren’t watching his porn collection, Kev would regale me with stories about his sex life. He did not hold back and described his bedroom activity in fine detail.
On workdays, at seven-thirty each evening, Kev and the wife would go to their bedroom and fuck up a storm after putting the kids to bed. Kev described his wife’s fat pussy in detail and told me how he loved watching his cock slide in and out of it. He loved the smell of his wife’s cunt and also vividly explained what it looked like. Kev particularly loved Sunday afternoons, when the highlight of Kev’s week was to fuck his wife in the arse.
Next, he contemplatively stated, “I wonder if a man feels the same pleasure as a woman does… you know, when being fucked in the arse.”
I wouldn’t know,” I answered.
“Do you often jerk-off?” he then asked.
“Yeah… sure,” I replied, matter-of-factly.
“I love playing with myself when I watch porn,” he then announced, before continuing, “Would it offend if I milk my lizard in front of you from time to time?”
“No, not at all,” I replied, perhaps a little too quickly.
Sniggering, he observed me for a while. “I think you love looking at my cock,” he then stated, smiling impishly.
“Umm… well… it’s very impressive,” I stammered.
“Sure is,” he answered, before resuming, “But it’s the way you look at it that interests me. Maybe, you prefer men to women, Grant?” he concluded, measuredly.
Dumbfounded, I just stared at him like a child caught stealing sweets.
Fortunately, the chime then interrupted our conversation. “Time for another patrol,” he stated, before concluding, “and when we get back you can have a really good look at my snake.”
Upon returning to the shed, Kev pulled out his knob before unleashing a torrent of piss. Once done, he didn’t bother to replace it in his trousers before entering the shed and bolting the door. After removing his jacket and cap, Kev sat down with his cylinder nestled between his thighs.
“I can see all the monitors from here, it’s all yours, pussy-boy,” he announced, offering his dick to me with a horny grin.
Kneeling before him, I stared at his cock in wonderment. After a short while, he laughed and said, “Fuck, it’s not going to bite you, get on with it.”
I supported his tool with my left hand and started fondling the head of his cock with my right hand. I almost salivated as his rich genital odour assailed my nostrils. Slowly, as I began sliding his foreskin back liberating the head of his dick from its confinement, the intense smell was overpowering. There were pubic hairs that had been captured under the hood that were stuck to the head of his cock. As I inhaled Kev observed me with fascination.
“Do you like my smell?” he asked.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Get in close and enjoy it, Grant,” he instructed.
Kev’s skanky essence was totally mouth-watering. Kev’s icky fingers then began to pluck the hairs off his knob head before he sniggered and said, “Don’t want any of these stuck in your throat.”
After closing his own foreskin he told me to open my mouth. First, he ran the wrinkled overhang around my lips before slowly retracting his foreskin and leisurely tapping the pungent head on my tongue.
Next, with a look of delight on his face, he gently moved his dick ever forward. As I became overexcited he pushed my head backward, impatiently reprimanding me. “Not so fast boy, you must savour my knob.”
Seeing the reproached look on my face he explained; “We’ve got all night, there’s no need to act like a glutton. Sexual encounters must always be slow and enjoyable. Impatience is the sign of a second-rate fucker.”
‘Fuck,’ I thought, ‘this man is a sexual virtuoso.’
“Now, slowly show me your appreciation,” he instructively concluded.
Like a gourmet at a tasting, I unhurriedly began licking and relishing his magnificent knob.
“Yes, boy, now we’re talking,” he lustfully exclaimed.
Minutes later the chime sounded again.
After we returned to the shed once more, Kev now removed his boots, trousers, and underpants, after bolting the door. As he again sat on his chair and was finally able to open his legs properly, I was told to service his meaty balls. With his legs wide apart a final bouquet of fragrance assailed my nostrils. I couldn’t care less and had become a total skank hound.
“Now, where were we?” He asked as his cock returned to my mouth.
My head worshipped Kev’s knob bopping up and down in a slow rhythm, to sighs of approval from him. Kev’s skanky hands toyed with my hair in appreciation of his pleasure.
When the next chime sounded, I could’ve had a shit-fit.
Sadly, when we returned he informed me that we were done. “We need to save ourselves for tomorrow because you need to learn discipline, boy,” he said with a fatherly demeanour.