rutter222
My jock is too small...and tight!
I was 22 and working overnights at a small supermarket in my home town. I went to high school and community college there. The I took classes at the university to get a degree in physical education. It was taking me a long time because I was paying for it myself and I needed to work. This overnight job was perfect for me. I was also just learning to appreciate my own masculinity and sexuality. I was always fit and athletic. I wrestled all through high school and bulked up quite a bit. After high school I wrestled on a club team. I enjoyed the close physical contact with other fit and muscular men. I liked their sweaty skin, hard muscles, body hair, and their masculine scent. I was fucking women at the time. I enjoyed that, but I was so intrigued by men.
My routine was to go to class, go to the gym, then get to work by 9:45 because the store closed at 10 and the doors were locked shortly after. I wouldnt bother showering after my workout because I worked alone all night. I'd finish lifting at the gym then just change into my work clothes. I keep my jock on because I liked that. I also rarely washed it so the smell was always ripe. I also had regularly spilled loads into the pouch - sometimes while I was at work. I'd wear jeans over my jock, a tank top (it was summer time) and work boots. My job was fairly physical. Lots of lifting cases of food and packing shelves for 8 to 10 hours. Then I'd go home, shower and sleep.
My manager was my high school wrestling coach, Mr. Herman. I called him that in high school and I called him that at work. He was about 5' 10" thick everything, and hairy. He had a thick black beard that covered most of his face and framed a stunning white toothed smile. He was in his mid 40's at the time and coaching at the school just wasn't cutting it. His wife divorced him a few months back and he was in his own now. Once a month he stayed in the store with me after closing to do inventory. He'd leave around 3 or 4, but then lock me in until opening at 6 am.
Around 11:30, long after closing, I was on my knees on the floor in the Italian food aisle unpacking the big containers of olive oil. Mr. Herman was working right behind me with the inventory book. We were making small talk. It was a pleasant distraction but I was really looking forward to him leaving so I could beat off into my jock and maybe take a short nap. I hoisted one of the big gallon metal container of Bertoli Olive Oil out of the cardboard box and en route to the shelf, the bottom fell out. Oil splashed on to the floor around where I was kneeling and quickly engulfed the area where Mr. Herman was standing. We both looked at each other in disbelief. I had never seen that happen before. I picked up the next one to see what would happen and the same thing happened. Now two gallons of olive oil covered the floor around us. Mr. Herman took a few steps toward me to get a closer look and his feet slipped completely out from under him and he landed on his side pretty hard. His store manager dress slacks were completely soaked on one side. He took of his dress shirt earlier and was also wearing just a plain white tank. I tried to stand to go help him up but I slipped and hit the ground next to him. Only I was face down so my shirt was soaked with oil as were my jeans. It was hopeless and this mess was going to take a long time to clean up.
I sat up and pulled off my tank. Mr. Herman was looking at my glistening hairless torso. He did the same. His torso was covered in a trimmed layer of black hair. His perfectly shaped pecs were accented with beautiful big brown nipples. I had seen him shirtless before but this was different. There was something sexual happening. We both regarded each other. Then he said, "No sense waisting all this good oil. You still wrestle?" My cock stirred. I replied, "yeah" and my heart started pounding. He said, "Well let's go!"
I got down on all fours and he got on top. Our muscles were tight and we were skin to skin. Rolling around and scrambling through the oil. He pinned me fast. I think I wanted him to. I was so nervous. He got back to his knees and I was still on my back. My jeans had come down some and revealed the waist band of my jock. His eyes went right to it. I explained that I work out before work and don't change. I wasn't sure what he would say next. Then he said, "I hear that!" And started unbuckling his belt. He opened his dress pants and revealed a black fashion jock. My eyes locked on and it took my breath away. He got up on his knees and dropped his trousers half way. Then sat his ass in the oil, kicked off his shoes and socks, and then pulled his oily, probably ruined dress slacks and tossed them aside.
Was I dreaming? I could barely take a breath. There was Mr. Herman sitting in a puddle of oil, wearing only a jock. He chest covered in oil. His strong, muscular legs projecting toward me, and in the center was this amazing, very full pouch that was straining to bust open.
He looked at me, and said "your turn." I paused, but nervously complied. I now regretted wearing my smelly, stained, unwashed jock. I opened my pants, and dropped them to my knees while still laying on my back. Then I realized I needed to take off my work boots. I awkwardly sat up and began to work on the laces. After what seemed like an eternity, I got them off, peeled off the socks, then got the pants off and tossed them aside. I got up to my knees and mirrored his pose. He looked at my jock and said, "well worn... NICE!" with a nod. I smiled in return.
Since I lost I got in the bottom position again, but this time I went on the offensive immediately. I got my legs under me and pushed him back. There was a lot of slipping but I gained some ground. We were now covered in oil and our hands were everywhere on each other but still respectful. At times we were locked head to head and his hands were gripping my ass cheeks, pulling them open. I could feel his fingers dangerously close to my hole at times. I was hard now. No hiding it. I hooked his leg and pulled him in half, exposing the sweetest looking pink hole. He did a similar move. His hand brushed my ball sack a few times. My face was once pressed near his nipple. I wanted it. I was so enamored that he quickly gained on me. He hooked my knee, pulled me back and pinned me. My hole was exposed and pointed straight up to the sky. He smacked my ass and backed off.
In the next match, we were not so respectful. He grabbed my nuts, I grabbed his nuts. At one point he tugged on my jock and my hard cock slipped out. I wanted to set it free. At times my face was between his legs looked right at his sack. I made it a point to tug his jock and release his shaft briefly. It was beautiful. Thick, mushroom head, half covered in foreskin. I never had a cock in me, mouth, or ass, but I wanted it. I had to have it. Funny thing. I think he thought the same about mine. I was going to lose my man virginity that night.
We started the last round standing up. We grappled. Muscles entwined, skin to skin, sliding, grinding, against each other. He got me in a full Nelson. Arms restrained, legs pulled back by his thick tree trunks. I could feel his hard cock pressed against my ass. We were panting and gasping and somehow I said "Fuck me. Fuck me hard! Take me!" I wanted him to lay that thick pipe in me...right then and there. He paused...released me...and flipped me over. My ass was up and presented to him. He touched my hole. Gently at first and it send shutters up my spine. He oiled his fingers and rubbed the outside and then probed my hole. God it hurt. I cried out. He kept going. I wanted him too. Next he did the unspeakable. He put his lips on my hole and then it inserted his tongue. I saw stars. It felt so good, so right. After he got to knees, released his beautiful cock and pushed it in my hole. It hurt, I grunted, he pulled back, then pushed in again. Before long he was slipping his oily cock inside my oily pussy...balls deep. He was pounding me hard. I started to cum, hands free. I called out, "I'm cumming...oh man!" My load dripping through my jock. He grunted and shot his juice deep in my ass. I could practically taste it. The whole thing was over in probably 2 minutes. It was hot, manly passion. He pulled out and we both lay there in our jocks covered in the oil that surrounded us. We looked into each other's eyes. I said, "want to go again?"
My routine was to go to class, go to the gym, then get to work by 9:45 because the store closed at 10 and the doors were locked shortly after. I wouldnt bother showering after my workout because I worked alone all night. I'd finish lifting at the gym then just change into my work clothes. I keep my jock on because I liked that. I also rarely washed it so the smell was always ripe. I also had regularly spilled loads into the pouch - sometimes while I was at work. I'd wear jeans over my jock, a tank top (it was summer time) and work boots. My job was fairly physical. Lots of lifting cases of food and packing shelves for 8 to 10 hours. Then I'd go home, shower and sleep.
My manager was my high school wrestling coach, Mr. Herman. I called him that in high school and I called him that at work. He was about 5' 10" thick everything, and hairy. He had a thick black beard that covered most of his face and framed a stunning white toothed smile. He was in his mid 40's at the time and coaching at the school just wasn't cutting it. His wife divorced him a few months back and he was in his own now. Once a month he stayed in the store with me after closing to do inventory. He'd leave around 3 or 4, but then lock me in until opening at 6 am.
Around 11:30, long after closing, I was on my knees on the floor in the Italian food aisle unpacking the big containers of olive oil. Mr. Herman was working right behind me with the inventory book. We were making small talk. It was a pleasant distraction but I was really looking forward to him leaving so I could beat off into my jock and maybe take a short nap. I hoisted one of the big gallon metal container of Bertoli Olive Oil out of the cardboard box and en route to the shelf, the bottom fell out. Oil splashed on to the floor around where I was kneeling and quickly engulfed the area where Mr. Herman was standing. We both looked at each other in disbelief. I had never seen that happen before. I picked up the next one to see what would happen and the same thing happened. Now two gallons of olive oil covered the floor around us. Mr. Herman took a few steps toward me to get a closer look and his feet slipped completely out from under him and he landed on his side pretty hard. His store manager dress slacks were completely soaked on one side. He took of his dress shirt earlier and was also wearing just a plain white tank. I tried to stand to go help him up but I slipped and hit the ground next to him. Only I was face down so my shirt was soaked with oil as were my jeans. It was hopeless and this mess was going to take a long time to clean up.
I sat up and pulled off my tank. Mr. Herman was looking at my glistening hairless torso. He did the same. His torso was covered in a trimmed layer of black hair. His perfectly shaped pecs were accented with beautiful big brown nipples. I had seen him shirtless before but this was different. There was something sexual happening. We both regarded each other. Then he said, "No sense waisting all this good oil. You still wrestle?" My cock stirred. I replied, "yeah" and my heart started pounding. He said, "Well let's go!"
I got down on all fours and he got on top. Our muscles were tight and we were skin to skin. Rolling around and scrambling through the oil. He pinned me fast. I think I wanted him to. I was so nervous. He got back to his knees and I was still on my back. My jeans had come down some and revealed the waist band of my jock. His eyes went right to it. I explained that I work out before work and don't change. I wasn't sure what he would say next. Then he said, "I hear that!" And started unbuckling his belt. He opened his dress pants and revealed a black fashion jock. My eyes locked on and it took my breath away. He got up on his knees and dropped his trousers half way. Then sat his ass in the oil, kicked off his shoes and socks, and then pulled his oily, probably ruined dress slacks and tossed them aside.
Was I dreaming? I could barely take a breath. There was Mr. Herman sitting in a puddle of oil, wearing only a jock. He chest covered in oil. His strong, muscular legs projecting toward me, and in the center was this amazing, very full pouch that was straining to bust open.
He looked at me, and said "your turn." I paused, but nervously complied. I now regretted wearing my smelly, stained, unwashed jock. I opened my pants, and dropped them to my knees while still laying on my back. Then I realized I needed to take off my work boots. I awkwardly sat up and began to work on the laces. After what seemed like an eternity, I got them off, peeled off the socks, then got the pants off and tossed them aside. I got up to my knees and mirrored his pose. He looked at my jock and said, "well worn... NICE!" with a nod. I smiled in return.
Since I lost I got in the bottom position again, but this time I went on the offensive immediately. I got my legs under me and pushed him back. There was a lot of slipping but I gained some ground. We were now covered in oil and our hands were everywhere on each other but still respectful. At times we were locked head to head and his hands were gripping my ass cheeks, pulling them open. I could feel his fingers dangerously close to my hole at times. I was hard now. No hiding it. I hooked his leg and pulled him in half, exposing the sweetest looking pink hole. He did a similar move. His hand brushed my ball sack a few times. My face was once pressed near his nipple. I wanted it. I was so enamored that he quickly gained on me. He hooked my knee, pulled me back and pinned me. My hole was exposed and pointed straight up to the sky. He smacked my ass and backed off.
In the next match, we were not so respectful. He grabbed my nuts, I grabbed his nuts. At one point he tugged on my jock and my hard cock slipped out. I wanted to set it free. At times my face was between his legs looked right at his sack. I made it a point to tug his jock and release his shaft briefly. It was beautiful. Thick, mushroom head, half covered in foreskin. I never had a cock in me, mouth, or ass, but I wanted it. I had to have it. Funny thing. I think he thought the same about mine. I was going to lose my man virginity that night.
We started the last round standing up. We grappled. Muscles entwined, skin to skin, sliding, grinding, against each other. He got me in a full Nelson. Arms restrained, legs pulled back by his thick tree trunks. I could feel his hard cock pressed against my ass. We were panting and gasping and somehow I said "Fuck me. Fuck me hard! Take me!" I wanted him to lay that thick pipe in me...right then and there. He paused...released me...and flipped me over. My ass was up and presented to him. He touched my hole. Gently at first and it send shutters up my spine. He oiled his fingers and rubbed the outside and then probed my hole. God it hurt. I cried out. He kept going. I wanted him too. Next he did the unspeakable. He put his lips on my hole and then it inserted his tongue. I saw stars. It felt so good, so right. After he got to knees, released his beautiful cock and pushed it in my hole. It hurt, I grunted, he pulled back, then pushed in again. Before long he was slipping his oily cock inside my oily pussy...balls deep. He was pounding me hard. I started to cum, hands free. I called out, "I'm cumming...oh man!" My load dripping through my jock. He grunted and shot his juice deep in my ass. I could practically taste it. The whole thing was over in probably 2 minutes. It was hot, manly passion. He pulled out and we both lay there in our jocks covered in the oil that surrounded us. We looked into each other's eyes. I said, "want to go again?"
