5 comments/ 212122 views/ 13 favorites Weekend at the Cape By: tabinma Note: The following story is entirely fictional and all of the characters are over 18 years of age. * Hello. My name is Miguel and I live with my mother in the city of Boston. My father passed away when I was quite young and the two of us have been on our own for as long as I can remember. My mother was rather young when she had me, thus, growing up, she seemed more like a big sister than a mother. A big sister, that is, who worked, paid the bills, kept me fed and raised me single-handedly. One of the many reasons that I adore my mother is that she was always brutally honest with me, especially when it came to finances. If we couldn't afford something, she said so and why. If we could, and it made sense, she always spent the money. This past summer I graduated from high school and turned eighteen. For many residents of Boston and the surrounding towns, summer means time spent on Cape Cod. However, even a modest weekly rental is very expensive. I would be leaving for college soon, so early in the summer my mother posed an idea. "I'm not sure we can afford an entire week, but how would you like to go to the Cape for a long weekend, before you leave?" This was classic Mom. She always spoke about what "we" could afford. Although I had worked for the past two summers, the funds for this vacation would come entirely from her. It was understood that almost all the money I earned was put away for my college education. To me, staying on the Cape was always something that "other" people did, families with two incomes that lived in the nicer suburbs, or the upper-crust of Boston. We went to the beach, North or South, almost every weekend in the summer, but it was always for day-trips requiring a long drive back to the city at day's end. "Mom, that sounds great!" I said. Her eyes lit up and she went to work. Mom settled on a modest three-bedroom ranch in a town called "Dennis." Supposedly, the house was within walking distance of the beach. Mom explained that this town was in the middle of Cape Cod, so the trip should take less than two hours. For city-dwellers like us, it could have been Mars. "Since there are three bedrooms, I'm thinking of inviting one of my sisters, as well, as long as you don't mind." I had no objection, and after a few calls, Mom found that her sister, my Aunt Lola, was free that weekend, but couldn't come until Sunday, because of work. My Aunt Lola was a couple of years younger than my mother. Still single, she worked as a hairdresser in the neighborhood where she lived. I would drop by the salon from time to time, ostensibly with a message from my mother, but really just to get a look at all of the gorgeous girls who always seemed to fill the place. On a Saturday, just before Labor Day, we loaded up our car and headed south. As Mom predicted, we arrived in just under two hours and wound our way through the narrow streets until we found our place. As we got out of the car and stretched, I noticed how quiet it was. Living in the city, one gets used to a certain level of background noise, from traffic, sirens, alarms, airplanes, etc. Here, a hundred miles from home, it seemed as quiet as the Moon. Up and down the street, we could see other families emptying their cars and hauling their things into their places. Mom explained that this was a weekly ritual called "changeover," and we were part of it, now. She had read a bit and she was proud of her new knowledge, having become quite the expert on the Cape since she had booked our modest little house. We entered the house and had a look around. We saw a nice living room with a sofa and some comfortable looking chairs, and, absurdly, a fireplace that I doubt worked. The large kitchen got a nod of approval from Mom, and there was a sliding door that led outside to a deck, next to the house. Like kids at camp, we rushed to claim our bedrooms. We laughed at the third bedroom. It was tiny with a single small bed, so we decided that that had to go to Lola, since she would be the last to arrive. The other bedrooms were similar, with twin beds in each. I could see that the owner had set the place up for maximum occupancy. I also knew that unbeknownst to the owners, gangs of college kids were sometimes known to fill places like this with up to twenty people at a time, to defray expenses. Still, the place was clean and neat. Being the man, I said I'd take the bedroom in the front of the house, and Mom was happy with the one in the back. After unpacking, we walked out on to the deck and then into the backyard. Although still small, the backyard was much larger than our tiny one back in the city. Then we saw something strange. An eye-level fence bracketed, not the yard, but the rear of the house. We moved over to the door and unlatched it. It led to a private area with an outdoor shower. "Isn't this great?" Mom exclaimed. Mom then proceeded to explain that showers such as this were used when people returned from the beach, if they wished to rinse the sand off before entering the house. Pointing to the soap and shampoo on a little shelf, Mom winked and said "But they can be used anytime." There was only one shower inside (like in our house), but I suddenly liked the idea of showering outside. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more it excited me. The afternoon stretched ahead of us so we changed into our bating suits and walked the short distance to the beach. Mom was exhausted from the drive and she promptly dozed off in her chair. She had applied sunscreen, so I wasn't worrying about her burning, but I decided to keep an eye on her, anyway. Meanwhile, I set about scouring the beach for some nice bodies. After a bit, I looked over my dozing mother. Mom had worn her floppy hat, because she was afraid of getting wrinkles on her face. At the age of 37, her skin was still smooth and soft. Now late in the summer, her skin was deeply tanned. I could only see the lower half of her face, her very cute nose and her full lips, as usual, painted bright red. Mom was wearing a green bikini. As I looked over her body, I noticed again how proportional everything seemed. He breasts were not large, but they were round and firm. Her legs were not long, but they were shapely. Her hands were beautiful, topped off by long nails, painted bright red. Mom painted her toenails as well. After a short nap, Mom declared that she was hot and needed to hit the water in order to cool off a bit. I declined, but I enjoyed the view as she picked her way down to the water's edge. I had always liked watching my mother's full rear end, especially when it was in motion like this. Being late summer, the water had turned cold (if it had ever warmed up). I knew Mom missed the warm ocean of her native Puerto Rico, but she still tried to get in and swim a bit. She soon gave up and came back, shivering. I couldn't help noticing that Mom's nipples were rock hard and sticking straight out. In addition, the water had rendered her bikini top nearly see-through, thus, I got a great look at the size and shape of her nipples. Before she turned to sit down again, I tried to glance at her crotch, but I couldn't see anything interesting. "I wouldn't recommend going in that water" she managed, through slightly chattering teeth. Mom soon dried off and was comfortable, again. By four in the afternoon, we were ready to head back. Since Mom had been in the water, she wanted to try the outdoor shower. I chuckled and headed inside as Mom went around back. I went to the kitchen to get something to drink. Above the sink, there was a widow with a screen. We had opened it before to let some air in, and as I heard the shower hissing, I realized the window was right next to, and above the shower. I couldn't see my mother, but I could see her bathing suit lying on the changing bench. "Miguel!" she called out. "Yeah, ma" I called back, leaning into the window. "Jesus, where are you?" she asked, obviously a little startled. "This is the kitchen window" I called down, tapping on the screen. "Oh, OK. Do you think you could bring me my shampoo, please? It's in my bag." "Sure, no problem" I replied. I found her shampoo and went around back. As I approached the gate, behind which my naked mother was washing, my steps slowed. I felt as if I were having trouble breathing. I carefully lifted the latch and stepped inside. My mother had her head under the streaming water and she was running her hands up into her hair. Her back was slightly arched and her breasts were sticking out as the water cascaded down. I couldn't believe how incredibly beautiful she looked. I was only wearing my bathing suit. I immediately pushed it down and kicked it aside. My mother opened one eye and watched me as I approached. Without a word, she handed me the thick bar of soap and indicated that I should start with her back. As she shampooed her own hair, slowly, I washed her neck, shoulders, back, and then the globes of her ass. I moved down her legs before returning to her gorgeous rear end. Gently, I moved a soapy finger over her butt hole. Slowly, I pushed the finger inside and worked it completely around. Then I turned my mother around and began working my way up the front of her body. My mother's pussy was completely shaved. I could feel the stubble as I ran my soapy hand over the area. Mom's eyes were closed, and I washed her navel and stomach. I straightened up to begin washing her breasts. Her nipples were hard again, but not from the cold ocean. She kept her eyes closed as I finished with her arms. She giggled as I put some soap on her face and then rinsed us both off. "Your turn" she said softly as she gently spun me to face the house. As she washed my legs and then my ass cheeks, I tightened up. Then I felt her index finger enter my anus. I was imagining the long red nail at the end of that finger, but she couldn't have been gentler. When she turned me around, she washed my thighs, upper body and arms. I was assuming she was going to skip washing my penis, or ask me to do it, but she knelt on the bathmat and soaped her hands. She then reached around and held my legs with her left arm. With her right hand, she began slowly washing my balls and then my penis. I am sure that she noticed that I, too, had taken to shaving off all of my pubic hair. My dick had been rock hard since I approached the fence, and now my mother ran her hand along the length of it. With the lubrication from the soap and water, her hand glided easily up and down the length of my shaft. When she finished, she rinsed the soap off. Then, incredibly, she leaned in and sucked my penis right into her mouth! I looked down, and she tilted her head up as she began stroking and sucking. Her eyes were lit as if she were enjoying herself immensely. Mom's hand and mouth were working magic. I hadn't jerked off in days, so I knew quite a load was coming. Mom sensed when I was close and she began stroking faster, using just her index finger and thumb, her eyes never leaving mine. Waves of intense pleasure washed over me as I began shooting my load. "Ughhhhh..." I moaned, not caring if the neighbors heard. The suction from Mom's mouth was incredible! Mom slowed her stroking, but she kept me in her mouth until I was spent. I helped her to her feet, and we embraced warmly under the running water. I couldn't help but plant a kiss on her beautiful lips. "Mmmmm, nice" she responded. We turned off the water, and then she said "Uh, you didn't happen to bring a towel, did you?" Weekend at the Cape Ch. 02 Note: The following story is entirely fictional and all of the characters are over 18 years of age. The events described here take place during the second day of a long weekend; however, it is my intention for this story to be able to stand alone. Hello. My name is Miguel and I live with my mother in the city of Boston. My father passed away when I was quite young and the two of us have been on our own for as long as I can remember. As the summer before my freshman year in college wound down, my mother and I traveled to Cape Cod to spend a long weekend. Upon arriving, we passed the first day at the beach. We would be joined the next day by my mother's sister, my Aunt Lola. As we began to prepare dinner the first night, my mother telephoned Lola at the hair salon where she was working to inquire as to when she would be arriving. After speaking for a moment, Mom cupped the phone and whispered to me "Your cousin Millie is there. She'd like to come, too...what do you think?" Without hesitation, I nodded in agreement. Mom then turned back to the phone "Sure, Lola! We actually have plenty of room." Mom then proceeded to describe the place with its three bedrooms and five beds. I didn't know my cousin Millie very well, because she lived in a city north of Boston, but I certainly remembered her from the various family gatherings because she was nearly the same age as me. In fact, we had both turned eighteen earlier in the summer. I looked forward to having someone around my own age, because I thought it was just going be mom and her sis for the next two days. The next morning, we heard the car in the driveway and we went outside to greet our new guests. Hugs and kisses all around. I squeezed Millie especially hard and noted what a fine woman she had grown into. Her hair was very black, somewhat short and curly. She wore the right amount of makeup and she looked really cute in her shorts and t-shirt. There we stood, four refugees from the city, basking in the sun and air of a beautiful Cape Cod morning. We headed inside and quickly settled on the sleeping arrangements. Aunt Lola and Millie would be in the front bedroom with the twin beds, Mom would be in the other large bedroom and I would take the tiny one with the single bed. I didn't mind, and I needed the privacy because I had begun to sleep in the nude. After eating some breakfast, we set out on the short walk to the beach. I lagged slightly behind, ostensibly to let them chat, but actually to allow me to view the three chunky rear ends moving down the street. After a bit, Millie dropped back, so we could talk. We discussed our high schools, what senior year was like, and where we were headed to college. "I'm a little nervous" she confessed. "Don't worry, I am, too" I said in a comforting way. We promised then and there to exchange email addresses and cell phone numbers so we could keep track of each other during the coming year. I was really beginning to like her. We settled in at the beach. I felt really lucky to be there with three very attractive ladies, even if they were all related to me. As the women pulled off their coverings, I slowly looked each of them over. Aunt Lola was a stunning beauty, although she probably looked more Native American than most of my mother's family. She was thin and she had sculpted legs from long hours spent on her feet cutting hair. She had large breasts and she really seemed to enjoy her sexuality. I saw that she wore a white bikini and I began to wonder if anything would show if it got wet. My cousin Millie had the fresh, unspoiled body of an eighteen year old. I saw her boobs pop out (although covered by her bikini top) as she lifted her shirt. There was not an ounce of fat on her legs and she looked great in a pink bikini. She had pulled her hair back with a clip, but this only made her face look more beautiful. As always, mom looked great, in a black bikini, today. I eased into my chair with a growing hard-on. The day was hot, but the water was cold. At one point, my mother and Aunt Lola decided to go for a walk, leaving Millie and me alone. Inevitably, perhaps, she asked "Do you have a girlfriend?" "Not at the moment" I replied, hopefully sounding optimistic. "How about you?" She shook her head no. Feeling relaxed with my cousin, I offered "There are some girls I like, but they never seem to like me back." "Yeah, it is the same with me" she replied, looking at the waves. "You like girls, too?" I asked, because I couldn't resist the opening. "Miguel! You know what I mean!" she protested. She threw her sunscreen at me, and pretended to pout. We had a good laugh and then turned serious again. "Miguel, I've heard some things about freshman year at college, and I'm not sure I'm prepared." "You mean about the sex and booze?" I asked, continuing our banter. "The booze I can handle, I just don't know about the other!" We laughed again. "I've only got younger sisters, and my parents are hopeless when it comes to sex...and I've got so many questions..." She continued. I began to see an opportunity there. "Tell you what Millie...Let's make a promise today that we can ask each other anything about sex...the other person has to tell the truth, or if it is too embarrassing or you simply don't know, you can say that, too. Deal?" Her lips curved into a smile. Millie stuck out her hand and said, "Deal." We shook and then she said "OK, I get the first question...it's about masturbation." How did I know? I thought. "How often do you guys do it, and why?" she queried. "Well, I can only speak for myself..." "Then please do..." "OK, here is the honest truth...we do it because it feels great...and you don't need anyone else around to do it. However, the more you do it, the less fun it is. It is kind of like eating dessert...it is awesome when you are doing/eating it, but you wouldn't want to eat it all the time. It is good for a treat. So don't believe these stories of guys jerking off five times a day...it just isn't possible." "I think I understand...but how often do you do it?" "Couple of times a week" I replied, honestly. "Really? Cool. What do you think about when you are doing it?" she pressed. "Hey," I protested, "Isn't it my turn?" Unfortunately, that was when my mother and Aunt Lola decided to return. Millie and I promised to continue later. We passed the rest of the afternoon enjoying the beach and ocean. At about four in the afternoon, we headed back to begin to prepare dinner. After dinner, we all watched TV together in the small sitting area off of the kitchen. By 11:00, Mom and Aunt Lola were tired and they announced they were turning in. "Don't stay up too late, you two" Mom instructed. We decided to keep the TV on, but lowered, lest the two older women overhear our conversation. "OK," she said. "Your turn." "How do you feel about oral sex?" I asked. "Hmmm, I don't mind the idea...I just hope nothing tastes gross" she replied. "...and what about cum in your mouth, same answer?" I continued. "Exactly" she replied. This simple exchange had rendered my cock rock hard and it was clearly visible in the front of my shorts. I saw her eyes travel to my bulge. "My question is... if I can see yours..." she said slowly. I paused a second, and then pushed my shorts and underwear down to the floor. Millie's eyes lit up and she looked over. She then bent down for a closer look. "Can I touch it?" she whispered. "Of course" I whispered back. She reached out with her right hand and squeezed my cock. A drop of pre-cum oozed out from the tip. "Geeze...what is that?" she asked. I explained that it was lubrication, similar to when her vagina gets wet. "Uh, huh" she replied. "Can I kiss it?" she whispered. "Of course" I whispered back. Millie slid to the floor in front of me and slowly drew my cock toward her mouth before planting a kiss on the tip. Then, looking right at me, her tongue flicked out and she began licking the head. As the pre-cum oozed, she licked and swallowed each new drop. "Mmmm...that tastes nice...salty...." She whispered. She ran her tongue down the length before returning to the top and then she slid it right into her mouth, all the while keeping a firm grip with her right hand. Slowly, she began bobbing up and down. She broke for a second and whispered "How's that?" "F-Fantastic!" I managed to say, desperately wanting her to continue. Although Millie was inexperienced, her enthusiasm more than made up for it. As she pumped my cock, I fell my orgasm begin to build. I reached out and began caressing her left breast. She moaned and, in perfect time with her right hand, continued bobbing her head up and down along the length of my shaft, at times burying my cock deep into her mouth. "Millie, I'm going to cum!" I gasped. Milled pulled my cock from her mouth and held it straight in the air, continuing to pump it as I began to shoot my cum onto my t-shirt. "Geeze!" she remarked as she watched, wide-eyed. When I had finished, she rose and grabbed paper towels from the kitchen counter. Together we mopped up the mess. She smiled and giggled. "OK," she said as she sat back down "Your turn." Weekend at the Cape Ch. 02.5 Note: The following story is entirely fictional and all of the characters are over 18 years of age. The events described here take place between the second and third days of a long weekend; however, it is my intention for this story to be able to stand alone. My name is Miguel and I live with my mother in the city of Boston. My father passed away when I was quite young and the two of us have been on our own for as long as I can remember. As the summer before my freshman year in college wound down, my mother and I traveled to Cape Cod to spend a long weekend. Upon arriving, we passed the first day at the beach. We were joined the next day by my mother's sister, my Aunt Lola and my cousin Millie. We passed the second day at the beach, as well, and after dinner we all watched some TV and then headed to bed. "Ouch!" I awoke with a start. Pain was shooting through my neck and left shoulder. With our new guests, I had relinquished the larger room and was assigned a tiny, miserable bed, with a poor mattress. The only advantage to the room I was in was that I was alone, so I was able to sleep in the nude. Not only did I enjoy the feeling, but the nights were hot and there was no air conditioning in the small house. The clock on the nightstand read 1:54 a.m. I had been asleep less than an hour. "Maybe I'll have better luck on the couch" I muttered to myself as I groped in the dark for my shorts. The house was quiet as I slowly opened the door. I made my way down the hall toward the kitchen and the TV area, remembering that the sofa there had seemed comfortable before. Although the house was dark, the outside lights were on, and I could see my Aunt Lola on the deck, smoking a cigarette. I approached and slid open the glass door. "Can't sleep?" I asked. Aunt Lola brightened. "Hey, Miguel! What are you doing up? No, your cousin Millie is snoring like a bear. Did she wake you up, too?" Aunt Lola had a great sense of humor, and such quips were typical of her. "No, no." I chuckled. "My neck and back are being ruined by that bed. I thought I'd try the couch." I began rubbing the left side of my neck. "Mmmm...come here" she commanded as she stubbed out her cigarette. I took the chair next to her and sat down. I hadn't been expecting to find anyone, so I had neglected to put on a shirt. I felt a little self-conscious as I leaned over toward my aunt. My Aunt Lola is a couple of years younger than my mother, making her 35 this past summer. She works as a hairdresser in the neighborhood where she lives. Her legs are sculpted from long hours on her feet. She is a little shorter and more busty than most of the women in my family. In general, Aunt Lola would be considered thin, with just a hint of baby fat around her face. In addition, she looks more Native American than most of my mother's sisters, lending an even more exotic touch to her looks. She has long black hair that she sometimes wears in braids. Closer now, I saw that my aunt was wearing an enormous t-shirt that reached to her knees, and her flip-flops. I wondered if she were wearing anything else. "Lemme see..." she said as I felt her fingers on my neck. We were close enough that I could detect the faint odor of cigarettes on her breath. Waves of pleasure washed over me as my aunt rubbed my neck, shoulders, and back. I couldn't help moaning softly. "Mmmm...that feels so good" I whispered. I was enjoying the feeling so much that my penis began to stiffen. I hadn't bothered to put on underwear and my dick was straining against my shorts, but I didn't want Aunt Lola to stop. Everyone likes a backrub, and I thought it might be nice to return the favor. "Aunt Lola, after you finish, I'd like to do you" I said. In an instant, I realized that what I had said could have been misinterpreted, and I half-turned in shock. "I...I...mean..." I stammered. Aunt Lola smiled wickedly. "Is that right?" she said. Then she leaned over my shoulder to have a look at my crotch. "Looks like you are ready" she commented. She then wrapped her left arm around my shoulders and drew me toward her. Our lips met. She opened her mouth and I buried my tongue inside. We kissed passionately for a moment. I was half-turned and not very comfortable in the chair. "Come here" she instructed, standing. Taking me by the hand, she led me down the steps to the backyard and then into the fenced-in outdoor shower area. The door creaked as we opened it. Then night was still and Aunt Lola put a finger to her mouth. "Shhhh..." she whispered. Once we were inside, she turned to face me and we embraced again. I am taller than Aunt Lola so I had to bend down to kiss her. I began kissing her neck and running my hands over her body. My hands passed over her breasts several times before resting on her large rear end. I felt her right hand move to my crotch. Together, we lifted off her t-shirt and she stood there completely naked. The outside lights allowed me to admire her body. She reached for my shorts and undid them. My dick sprang out, and she reached in with her right hand. She began stroking it slowly. Below the showerhead, there is a large rubber mat. We moved toward it and Aunt Lola got down on her knees. I spread my legs and Aunt Lola guided my penis into her mouth. Working with her hand and mouth, she began to suck me rhythmically. I looked down and enjoyed the sight of her on her knees, with her large breasts swaying. With my penis still in her mouth, she looked up at me. Her eyes were lit brightly. Although I was enjoying the feeling immensely, I wanted to do something for her. "Your turn" I said, as I drew my penis out of her mouth with a small pop. I then gently leaned her back on the rubber mat. On her back, she bent her knees, and I approached her vagina. Although it wasn't completely shaved, Aunt Lola's pussy was neatly trimmed. I began licking the outside, and then her lips. I found her clit and I began licking and sucking the tiny bud. "Miguel..." "Yes, Aunt Lola?" "I want to feel you inside me" she whispered. I drew myself toward her face and I found her mouth again. As I pushed my tongue into her mouth, my penis entered her vagina. "Ughhhhh...." she moaned as I entered. Aunt Lola crossed her legs behind my back and squeezed me tightly. We began gyrating and I kept my tongue buried in her mouth, lest she make too much noise and attract attention. As we rocked back and forth, making squeaking noises on the mat, I extracted my mouth from hers and I squeezed her left breast with my left hand. Her nipple was huge and hard. I wrapped my mouth over the nipple and began sucking. Then I did the same with her right breast. Aunt Lola was very tight, and as I continued to push, I felt my orgasm building quickly. Sensing this, Aunt Lola whispered "Miguel, don't come inside me..." We rolled over together, and she slid off my dick. As I lay staring up at the stars, Aunt Lola grabbed my dick and began sucking it again. She gasped and began stroking it furiously. "Aunt Lola...I'm going to c..." The first squirt seemed to take her by surprise and she flinched. Recovering, in an instant my dick was back in her mouth and she sucked hard while pumping madly with her hand. As I shot the hot load into her, our eyes locked. When she was sure I was done, she slowly slid my penis from her mouth and laid it down gently. She put her head on my thigh and we both lay there, breathing hard. She crawled up to me and kissed me deeply on the mouth, laying an arm across my chest. I could have slept there, but eventually we got up, put our scant clothes back on and reentered the house. "Goodnight, sweetie" Aunt Lola whispered and then kissed me again before reentering her bedroom. Millie had apparently stopped snoring and I decided to give the bed another shot. Weekend at the Car Wash "I'm telling you it's true," Eddie insisted. We were sitting over beers at the bar. "I don't believe it," I replied. "You haven't even seen him with your own eyes." We continued to argue amid the smoke and hubbub. "C'mon, Eddie, you've got to admit it's a little hard to believe," I said, as we headed out into the night some time later. "I've heard of cruising the bars, the baths and the tearooms, but--a car wash?" "Look, if you go down there you'll see it's the perfect setup. It's in that new strip that they're just starting to develop between the Business-I and the Interstate. They put in the road for condos but they haven't gone up yet. This car wash is there, sitting by itself, woods all around. And it's twenty-four/seven. "Anyway, supposedly this guy drives in late at night on weekends and washes his car in the far stall wearing only cutoffs or Speedos. If he sees anyone giving him the eye he gets naked. Pretty obvious what he's after." "Guess so, if it's true," I conceded. "Later, buddy," Eddie said, getting into his car. "You don't want to come back with me?" I said, but he was already pulling out. I watched him go, horny and frustrated. Eddie's story was worth checking out, at least. I went one afternoon later that week after work, driving down the access road by the interstate, then swinging off onto the newly paved spur. As yet it led mostly to nowhere. The car wash was on a small plot of land on the right, about a quarter of a mile in, halfway between the access road and the business thoroughfare. The sign on the pole was electric blue and white, out of place standing in the middle what until recently had been woody, undeveloped land. The car wash was ugly and utilitarian. There were eight stalls made of cinder blocks set in the middle of a large paved lot, with the detergent dispensers, power hoses and other equipment installed on the left wall of each. A couple of giant vacuum cleaners were set up in back, against the wooden fence that went around the entire property, except for the entrance in front. That made this wash different from others I'd seen. From the street you couldn't tell whether a stall was occupied. You had to drive into the lot to see. What Eddie was describing to me could actually happen here. I didn't see him Friday night when I went by the bar. Some of my other friends were there but hadn't seen him either. I left early, a little after eleven, and stood in the street. Finally I gave in to my baser self and drove toward the interstate. The harsh fluorescent lights of the car wash glared at the side of the otherwise dark road. I pulled into the lot and saw that, contrary to what I had thought, this wasn't a totally unpopular time to wash a car. Three of the stalls had cars in them. All of the occupants were fully clothed. This was sure turning out to be a dull Friday night, but I wasn't quite ready to give up and go home. My own little Honda was grimy. I drove into an empty stall and dug into the ashtray for loose change. I dropped it in the slot and went to work. Soon I was busy soaping, rinsing and scrubbing, trying to keep ahead of the numbers on the digital timer counting down the seconds. I really had to move, and barely managed to finish rinsing everything off before the machine shut down. I stood, holding the dripping hose, panting from my exertions. Though the night air was cool, I was sweating. There were wet patches on my shirt from accidentally hitting myself with the spray from the hose. Washing the car naked wasn't such a bad idea. The thought made me remember why I had come out here. Hanging up the hose on the wall hook, I walked to the end of the stall I was in and looked out to both sides. I was in the fifth furthest stall away from the entrance. I strolled down past the first four--they were now empty. My ear caught the sound of spraying water and other activity at the far end. Someone was in the very last stall. If you were going to cruise the car wash, that was the best place--plenty of time to hear another car coming into the lot. A grassy strip went all the way around between the asphalt and the tall wooden fence. I began to walk down the row of stalls toward the end, staying on the grass. Here the lights were not quite so penetrating and there were pools of shadow. I kept walking forward until the last stall and its occupant came into view. The vehicle was parked so that its front was facing me. It was a large car, a late-model gas guzzler from the seventies, shiny and well-maintained. The man washing it didn't see me at first. He was tall and slender, his chest and stomach hard and smooth. He was wearing a baseball cap, thongs on his feet and a pair of denim cutoffs, and that was it. I looked more closely and saw an appetizing sight. The dark tip of his cock was peeking out of one leg of his shorts. At that moment the man raised his head and caught sight of me standing in the shadows. He gave me a long, frank stare. I felt the heat rise in my own body and travel down to my crotch. My own cock stiffened in my pants and I cupped it in my hand. The man continued rinsing the soap off his car, every so often casting another glance in my direction. I stood, rubbing myself, letting him know I was interested and waiting. Finally, the timer beeped and the stream from the hose dribbled to a halt. The man in the stall hung it up and turned toward the driver side of his car. He opened the door as if to get in, and my heart sank. Was he just another cockteaser? Just then, the driver turned to face me, his body partially hidden by the open door, his feet visible underneath. A smile slowly spread across his face. His shorts dropped to the ground around his ankles. No one else was around. I walked rapidly forward and around the open door of the car. He stood, naked, his cock rising from his dark blond bush. I closed my right fist around it, a satisfying handful, and looked him in the eye for the first time. Neither of us said a word as I stroked him to full erection. I opened my mouth, letting him see the tip of my tongue, and he nodded. I knelt, grasped his thighs, and began to suck, hard and intensely, moving my head back and forth, tasting the salty precum flowing into my mouth. I heard his breathing quicken and deepen. He grasped the sides of my head and began to fuck my face, the cock banging the back of my throat. Between thrusts I quickly gasped in air, trying not to choke on this faceful of sex flesh. My hands roved to his hard, narrow butt, the muscles working as he continued to thrust into my mouth. "Nice," he whispered. I needed a break, so I backed off and began to lick his shaft with long strokes of my tongue. I washed his balls while I jacked him off with one hand. Soon, though, his hand pressed urgently at the back of my head. "Take it." I let him slide back into my mouth. He began to thrust with renewed urgency, so that I had to grab his butt to keep my balance. My eyes began to water but I stayed with him, thrilled by his need. "Going to cum." "Mm hmm," I said, indicating my assent. He thrust still harder, and I felt his cock come to life, the first hot spurts hitting the back of my throat. I swallowed quickly as cum filled my mouth. Some of it ran out and down my chin. I heard his gasps above me and cast a quick glance upward. His head was thrown back, his mouth open, his eyes closed in ecstasy. His thrusts slowed and he released his grip on my head, letting his breath go in a heaving sigh. I kept his softening cock in my mouth, cleaning it with my tongue. Finally I released him, wiped my chin with my hand and looked up. He was smiling. "Thanks," he said. I saw that he was older than I had thought at first, maybe in his late thirties, early forties. No matter--he was fine. I reached out and squeezed his package. "My pleasure. Hot man. Hot cock." He chuckled. "You're good for my ego." "I'm serious. I want some more of this." He shook his head. "I'm done for the night. Sorry." A roguish look appeared on his face. "What are you doing tomorrow night?" I laughed. "You're going to have the cleanest car in town. Tell you what, it's a date--on one condition." "What's that?" "I'll bring a rubber." He laughed. "Okay, deal. A little after midnight?" Almost precisely twenty-four hours later I drove back down the darkened turnoff, wearing old Nikes, a loose pair of nylon gym shorts and a T-shirt. My mouth was dry with excitement. I turned into the parking lot and headed for the last stall. He was there, all right, in the same old car, sitting in the front seat. He wasn't wearing his ball cap tonight and I saw that his hair was thinning. Somehow this made him seem sexier. He saw me and waved, his lean, square-jawed face breaking into a smile. I parked near the grass, got out and walked toward his car. The driver's side window was open. He had one arm propped outside and I saw that his shoulders were bare. "Hey," I said, looking inside, then did a double take. He was stark naked, stroking his cock. He grinned at my reaction. "You washed the car like that?" "Nope. Just decided to get a little more comfortable while I waited for you." He reached out and grasped one of my forearms, stroking the hair on it with his thumb. I shivered. "I'm glad you came," he said. I was struck by his sincerity. "Sure," I said. "Why wouldn't I have come?" "Lots of guys wouldn't have," he said. It occurred to me that he was probably right. We weren't friends or anything, just two horny men. We didn't even know each other's names. "Well, I'm here." He looked at my swelling crotch. "Looking good too. Let me put these on before I get out. I may be an exhibitionist, but I'm not stupid." He got the shorts on over his long legs, opened the door and got out. "Follow me." He started toward the fence at the back of the lot. I watched his butt muscles working in the Spandex. One of the vertical slats in the fence had been knocked out and had one end resting on the ground. He lifted the board, revealing a narrow opening, and gestured to me with his head. I stepped through and he followed, being careful to set the loose board back in front of the gap so that we were hidden from view. We were in an open field that turned into woods a short distance behind us. We turned to each other in the dim light, our breathing quickening. He pulled me into his arms. I felt his lips press against mine, his tongue flicking into my mouth. I kissed him back, my hands sliding down his back and underneath the waistband of his shorts, pushing them down his thighs. He pulled my T-shirt up, running his tongue over my bare chest and stomach, tickling my navel, then taking one of my nipples into his mouth. I moaned softly. "Damn, you're hot," he said. "So are you," I replied. He kissed me again, pushing me against the fence. "Got that rubber?" I took it out of my pocket and handed it to him, then let my own shorts fall. My hard cock sprang free. He knelt and blew me for a few moments, then stood up and tore the package open. He hooded his jutting pole and put his hands on my waist, urging me to turn around. I obeyed, bending at the waist and placing my hands against the rough wood of the fence. His finger probed my ass, finding the lube I had applied before leaving the house. I then felt something bigger and blunter against my hole, then searing heat and fullness as his cock poked me. I bit my lip, gritted my teeth and waited for the pain to pass. He sensed my distress and waited a few moments before he pushed in further. Soon his full length was inside me, his pubes pressing against my butt. He began to move then, sliding back and forth, at first slowly, then faster and faster until he was plowing my ass with brutal force. I was being fucked exactly the way I craved and loving every moment. "Fuck me." "You got it, stud," he said, reaching underneath and taking hold of my hard cock. He began to stroke it in rhythm with his thrusts. I couldn't hold out for long against the double assault. A few moments later I gasped harshly as I filled his hand with my hot seed. I heard his ragged breathing and knew that he was emptying his own load into the rubber buried in my bowel. He brought his hand, filled with cum, up to my mouth, inviting me to lick it up. I obeyed, but before I was finished he spread his fingers and smeared the rest over my face. I cleaned his hand with my tongue, my eyes closed, grinning with delight. When I was finished he turned me around with an urgent pressure of his hands. Once more his face descended on mine, his tongue shooting out and licking my jizz off my forehead and cheeks. Then he kissed me again and fed me the rest of my load. He backed me against the fence and leaned his full weight on me, his head resting on my shoulder. We stood, our chests heaving, our pants down around our ankles, my T-shirt pulled up to my armpits, both of us stinking of sweat and cum. At last he spoke. "Damn, that was hot." I chuckled. "You're telling me." He raised his head and looked at me. "What's your name, anyway?" "Troy." "Troy, I'm Jim. I've been here a few weekends, but I've never met anyone like you." I looked at him. "Never knew anyone who cruised a car wash. Got to give you points for originality." He chuckled. "Funny guy. I live near here. Want to follow me home and have a beer?" I kissed him lightly, then bent to pull up my shorts. "That'd be nice, thanks. Beats the bar for sure," I said, smoothing down my T-shirt. "Who needs all that smoke and bullshit," Jim said. He pulled off his rubber, dressed himself and pushed at the loose board through the gap in the fence. He stepped through first, then turned and offered his hand. I grinned and took it, completely won over. He kept hold of my hand in the darkness as we walked back toward our cars. It was weeks before I went back to the bar, and when I did, I ran into Eddie. He was openly curious about where I'd been. I talked to him for a while just to be polite. "By the way," I said, "Remember that car wash we were talking about? I checked it out." "You did? Did you see the guy?" "Yeah," I said, suppressing a smile. "So what happened? Hey, where you going, buddy?" I looked back at him. "I got a date." I left him slack-jawed. I walked the bar and down the street to my Honda, sitting there waxed and spiffy next to the curb. I got in, started the engine, and headed for Jim's place. I'm a lucky guy. My boyfriend is sweet, cute, hung, and handy with a hose. What more could a man want? END Revised version copyright 2006 by the author.