Jock

The usual Disclaimer bit

This is a work of fiction. So, no, you can't try to get the Email address of any of the characters.

It contains detailed descriptions of sex acts between males. If someone has decreed that you may not read such stories, you have my full permission to tell them to 'Go stick their head up a dear bear's bum'.

For those masochists who are sickened by this kind of tale, but force themselves to read it anyway; may you last meal reappear and land on your keyboard.

For the rest of you, read on.

Jock

Let me see, I first met Jock one hot summer's day, way back in the 60s. Nah, that's not true, I had seen him around, in fact he lived quite close to my house, and we both worked in the same department of British Railways. But our paths had never really crossed until that day. We were upgrading our trunk-line equipment and I was landed with the job of installing the repeaters. These were located in a Godforsaken Station roughly midway between two major towns.

Jock was on the construction squad, they ran the cables from the overhead lines into the building, then round to the housings that held the repeaters. My job was to install the repeaters, four bolts on each of the four repeaters, no great task, but then I had to get them up and running. As this involved a fair bit of technical work and would take at least a few hours per unit, I was keen to get started.

The squad had gone out first thing in the morning and I arrived about noon, when I reckoned my services would be required. I should point out that in those far off days I was only an apprentice, but we were short staffed and I was doing a 'man's' job. Compared to the men in the squad, I was quite bright. This brought admiration, in very small quantities, but much more lavish amounts of resentment.

This time my presence was not exactly welcome, as the first thing that I did was to point out that the housings, which they had so carefully mounted, prior to installing the cables, were in the wrong place. This meant that a large part of their work would need to be redone. While none of this was my fault, me bringing it to their attention attracted no new members to my fan club.

Jock most decidedly caught my eye, mainly because he was stripped to the waist. Now to tell the truth, several of the squad were also naked above the belt, but when Jock was in the room, they faded into the background. Back then he must have been in his early 20s, curly light brown hair, an open face, strange eyes that were green on the outer edge but this changed to yellow as it got closer to the pupil.

Like most of the squad he had a well-developed body, prolonged hard work does that to a man. His chest was suntanned and hairy. He had one of those lines of hair that runs down from the navel and joins up with his pubic hair. Not that I could see that far down, but it sure dragged my eye in that direction. Alas what he looked like below the waist was well hidden by a pair of baggy denim trousers.

So by the time the housings were remounted it was almost two thirty and the pubs, which in those days shut between 3pm and 5pm, suddenly attracted the squad's attention . Although there was no possibility of getting all the repeaters up and running, I got started on the first one.

I should point out about here that most of the squad hated working, in fact some of them expended more energy dodging work than they would have spent doing it. The high points of their lives were; betting on horses, discussing last Saturday's football match, (a process that lasted all week) and speculating on their chances of laying any female that passed by. Jock however was a bit different, he didn't rush down to the pub. He was quite recently married and needed all his money, so he just stayed to watch me.

Now before I could install the repeaters, the lines had to be equalised. To achieve this, signals are sent at a fixed level down the line. At the other end the level is recorded. When the full spectrum has been covered, all frequencies are set to the lowest level received. Thus giving us a nice base to start with. Since it was repeaters that I was installing, this had to be done in both directions.

All in all, a boring and time consuming job. I had just started when I noticed that Jock was still hanging around. He asked what I was doing and I explained. Then he asked if he could help and I got him doing one half of the line, while I did the other. He caught on quickly, and soon we had one repeater up and running.

The squad had returned from the pub, then their van arrived and it was time to go home. Although I had come out by train I decided to call it a day and go back in the van with the lads. An Inspector, railway parlance for lower management, in this case Inspector Donaldson, had arrived with the van. He was less than happy that the job had not been completed. I asked him for some assistance for the next day, pointing out that Jock had been a great help. Grudgingly Jock was assigned to me, and we all piled into the van.

I won't even pretend that it was less than accidental that I ended up sitting next to Jock on the trip home. He had the corner seat and I slipped in next to him. How his naked arm came to rest round my shoulders is a mystery to me to this very day, but I wasn't complaining, I just surreptitiously snuggled up close. The smell of another male turns me on, so I was busy fighting down an impulse to lick him all over.

When we got back to base I returned to the telephone exchange, dumped my equipment then rushed to the toilet. There in the safety of a locked WC, I shot my little lot while imagining what Jock looked like totally naked.

Next day both of us set out by train and by 8am we were on site. In the hay days of the Railways, the room where the repeaters were located, had been the parcels office. These days it was just another empty room in a rather run down Station. None of the windows had clear glass, they were all frosted. I suppose it was to stop the travelling public from seeing what was stored in there. So, once the door was shut, we had a fair degree of privacy.

I wasn't really surprised when Jock started to strip, I was calibrating the test equipment and not really watching. However, he got my undivided attention when I realised he was standing there wearing just work boots and Y-fronts!

"My wife, Betty, likes me suntanned, so I brought some shorts," he said, presumably in response to my raised eyebrows.

I nodded, while my eyes roved where my hands dare not. He had a very good tan down to the waist, but his legs were a bit paler. The Y-fronts fitted him snugly, which means the crotch bulged and they enhanced the divine curve of his buns. Jokingly he went into a weightlifter's pose, arms bent upwards, muscles flexed and slowly turned round to let me admire his tan. I resisted an urge to hunker down and bay at the moon.

The sexy line of hair that ran down his belly and vanished into his Y- fronts, obviously joining his pubic bush as I could see it widening, and becoming thicker as it vanished below the waistband, was now even more attractive. Needless to say the view was, well for me, quite distracting. In this half naked state he reminded me of a Rugby player. Not one of the huge Forwards, more like a Scrumhalf, shorter, but compact, with legs like tree trunks.

"Well, she certainly has a lot to enjoy," I said, my brain being in neutral at the time.

Of course the instant the words passed my lips I could have bitten my tongue off, but it was too late.

"Yeah, she's got nothing to complain about," he said, grinning and grabbing his crotch.

Shit! I had gotten away with it, we were going into 'man talk'. Here you can boast about your sexual conquests and it only shows what a 'real guy' you are. Madness took over my brain and I decided to push my luck a bit further.

"And I believe it works. From what I hear you're going to be a daddy soon, is that right?"

He swelled with pride and nodded. Now my temporary insanity led me on to really thin ice.

"Can I ask a question?" I enquired.

He gave me a funny look, but nodded. I almost lost my nerve, but the sensual intoxication of a near naked Adonis drove me on.

"Does it feel any different when you're trying for a baby?"

A wicked grin flashed across his face and he said, "Yeah. It feels great when you know that you're knocking her up."

The sexual tension in the air was now starting to affect him too, his Y-fronts were beginning to tent out at the front. I conquered an urge to rip the bloody things off him and try to choke myself on his manhood. My hands were shaking slightly as I tried to adjust my equipment. Have you ever tried to concentrate on decibel levels, when all your mind can think of is cock?

To my horror I heard myself say, "It must be nice to be married, then you can get it any time you want."

"Not as much as you'd think," he answered, "once they are carrying a kid, they don't want it so often."

"So I see," I said, nodding towards his bulging Y-fronts.

That of course, did it. He went bright red and hastily got into his shorts. I successfully managed to laugh it off and got back to doing what I was being paid to do.

As I said, the task was easy and boring. The only difficult part was maintaining a high degree of accuracy in the readings. However once we got started, progress was fast. Neither of us noticed that we missed the morning tea break in fact it wasn't until the last repeater was operational that I looked at my watch, it was almost noon. We closed our links to the distant exchanges, packed up the test gear and set off to the local pub for lunch.

Although I was 18, and old enough to drink, I still looked about 15. So rather than have an argument with the Landlord, well, I don't really like beer, I had a soft drink while Jock had a pint. Out in the garden at the back of the pub we enjoyed our sandwiches and relaxed in the sun. One thing led to another, I paid for my round, and in the end he had two pints inside him.

To be honest I found he looked sexier in his shorts than he did in just his Y-fronts. Although the shorts hid more, they offered the occasional tantalising glimpse up the leg. He was one of those guys who is totally unaware of his own beauty, and this allowed me to feast my eyes on his body. In my mind's eye I had him stripped naked, tied spread-eagled on a bed, while my tongue worked over every inch of him.

The Landlord collecting the empty glasses broke my daydream, and soon we were heading back to the Station. As it was now little more than a Halt, only one train every two hours bothered to stop at it, and the next one was due in five minutes.

"You know, if we were a bit slow in packing up, we would miss the next train and we would have to spend a couple of hours sunning ourselves round the back of the Station," I observed.

He agreed, and we had just nicely settled down in the sun, when we heard the guard's whistle blow, which was then followed by the sound of a train pulling out of the Station. Ah, such is life, when you are working without supervision.

About an hour and a half later we both had had enough sun and we went back indoors to get ready to go home. I don't know what gave him the erection, but when he took his shorts off to change into his pants, there it was, pushing out his Y-fronts.

"You'll have to go back to wanking," I said, in a joking voice.

"That's the trouble, once you're used to getting it, then just jacking off isn't any good," he replied, not, I noticed, going red this time.

"I wouldn't know, I've never done it with a girl yet," I said, dangerously laying it out on the line.

"Oh, just the old 'jerk circles' I suppose" he said.

His voice was not cruel and I got the idea he had done something similar in his youth. Surreptitiously I moved closer to him, invading his space, as they say these days. He made no move to avoid me. Hmm, perhaps the beer had suppressed the odd inhibition here and there.

"Something like that," I said, moving even closer, until we almost touched.

Again he made no attempt to move away from me, he seemed to be frozen, unable to reject me, or for that matter, encourage me.

"Want me to help you with that?" I asked, brushing the palm of my hand over the front of his underwear.

God, I could feel his hardness! By rights he should have jumped back and smacked my hand away, but he did nothing. Then my hand gently closed round the shaft of it, still encased in the soft fabric, and he still did not react. I was on a winner!

Throwing caution to the wind, and knowing full well that my next move could get me beaten to a pulp, I placed the palm of my hand on his hairy navel. I could feel the hard muscles of his stomach contract under my touch. Then I slid my hand down, under the waistband of the now inadequate Y-fronts and onto his pubic hair.

I didn't dare stop in case I broke the spell, so my hand carried on down until it could wrap itself round the naked shaft. I could actually feel the blood pumping into it and making it harden under my caress. I couldn't believe my luck, or for that matter, my stupidity.

"Christ you're big," I whispered.

This was a true statement, until then I had only managed to get my sweaty little paws round the cocks of my peers, and, let's face it, in general, teenage boys are not as well equipped as fully grown men.

"Yeah," he murmured.

While he was distracted my free hand was gently removing the Y-fronts as they were now getting in the way. Freed from its confinement his cock jutted out at right angles from his body. His erection had partly retracted his foreskin and the head peeped out at me. I pulled his foreskin right back and allowed the aroma of a horny male to fill the air between us. God, I desperately wanted to go down on him, but this might freak him out, so I just spat on my hand and started to give him a wet wank.

Judging from the noises he made this was the first time anyone had tried this particular trick on him, but he loved it. So with one hand slithering up and down the shaft of his weapon and the other fondling his nuts I took him to Heaven.

God, the feeling of barely contained power that radiated from that man- size cock of his was awesome. He appeared to be a pussycat but I could feel that deep inside him there was a spring, and it was fully wound. One day I would manage to release it, but for now, I tried to imagine what it would feel like if he ever got that cock inside me. Shit, there would be no stopping him once he got going.

"I'm going to shoot," he said, in a husky voice.

It was a needless warning of course. Oh come on, if you don't know when a guy is going to blow his load, then you really should not be playing with his dick.

Then he caught me totally unawares. He grabbed my head and kissed me full on the lips. His tongue rammed its way into my mouth and, as the cock in my hand began to fire its load, he sucked all the air out of my lungs.

Until that moment I had never had a sexual kiss, just the peck on the cheek that all kids get, and hate, from elderly aunts and the like. This kiss was a totally different animal. It was forced on me, I had no say in the matter, and it drove me wild. As his cock shot its lot down the front of my overalls, mine joined in and made a mess of my underwear. Eventually he let me breathe again, but we held the kiss for an eternity. Then came the remorse, on his part at least, I was still spaced out by the kiss, not to mention the cum stains on the inside and outside of my clothes.

"Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that, you're only a lad. It was wrong of me to make you do it."

"What?" was all I could manage.

"Kiss you. I shouldn't have kissed you. God, I've come all over you. What a mess!"

With that he raked around for his shorts looking for a hanky. While he was distracted, I sneakily licked his cum off my hands, it was still warm from his body. It had a stronger smell and taste to the boy cum that I was used to, but I liked it and wished he had shot in my mouth.

Despite my protests he got very embarrassed, blaming everything on the drink, and apologising endlessly as he cleaned me up as best he could. Eventually I went off to the Gents and got most of the cum stains off there. I also had to slip into one of the stalls, where I could drop my trousers and deal with the second mess which had soaked the inside of my underwear and messed up my pubes. Back in the old parcels office I found him still fretting and tried to calm him.

"Look, I'm a big boy, and I was the one who grabbed you. You didn't frighten me, in fact that was the most exciting thing that has happened to me since I first had my cock sucked. So, calm down and stop saying you're sorry," I told him.

At that point he shut up, we finished packing and went out to wait for the train home. No sooner had we arrived on the platform, than Inspector Donaldson appeared. Nothing really unusual about an Inspector checking up on the work, I stayed as cool as a cucumber, but Jock went bright red and became flustered. Donaldson checked our work, not that he knew anything about the equipment, gave Jock an odd look, and offered us a lift home in the back of the truck.

The higher your rank in the company, the greater chance there is of you getting to sit up front with the driver. This means that an apprentice like me, or a labourer like Jock, always ended up in the back. This trip we had the place to ourselves. But, when he sat down, there was an obvious gap between us.

"You're not going to tell anyone, are you?" he blurt out.

"Of course not."

"You're sure?"

"Look, you daft bat. If I blab about what we did, do you think there would be any chance of it happening again?"

"You'd do it again?" he asked, the amazement obvious in his voice.

"Sure."

I now closed the gap between us and snuggled up to him. Slowly his arm went round my shoulder and our faces got closer. This time I could see the kiss coming and, although it lacked the wild intensity of his first one, it sort of smouldered on, filling my body with a delicious warmth. His tongue got free reign to search my mouth and this time he took over my breathing totally. Hell, that is one wild feeling to have someone else run your lungs for you.

"You like that?" he asked, as our lips parted.

"Hmmm," I replied.

"Betty hates it when I do it to her."

"She doesn't know what she's missing."

"I thought you said that you had never been with a girl," he said.

"I haven't."

"How come you had your cock sucked?"

I gave him an old fashioned look, but he didn't catch on.

"There is one boy I know who likes sucking cock," I lied, curious to see how he would react.

"And you just let him?"

"Well, he is very good at it, and you don't have to take him to the movies first, or buy him fish and chips on the way home," I said, pointing out the economic advantages.

"But letting another guy suck your cock..."

"I don't suppose that it feels any different than your wife doing it."

"I should be so lucky."

"Ah, she isn't in to that sort of thing?"

"Nope, a very religious upbringing, missionary position, with the lights out and nothing else."

About here my respect for him began to fade. Sexually at least, his wife had him under her thumb, and I'd be prepared to bet that the stupid woman was missing out on some of the wildest sex around.

"Pity that, and I suppose that you like being sucked off?" I inquired.

Here he went red again and said, "I don't know, I've never tried it."

Well darling, I thought, if I ever get back inside your Y-fronts you are going to find out just how much fun it is.

Deep kissing must have been something that he loved doing and he had obviously been deprived of a decent outlet for this desire. I assumed this on the grounds that his tongue spent more time in my mouth than it did in his own until the truck pulled into our home Station.

And that, as they say, was that. I returned to my duties at the telephone exchange, he went back to labouring with his squad. I was once more reduced to playing around with my mates. The trouble was, I had got my hands on a real man-sized cock, and what hung between the legs of teenage boys didn't do anything for me anymore.

Oh, life moved on, summer became autumn and autumn turned into winter. From time to time I saw Jock on the street, usually with Betty. Her belly got bigger, then one day, there they were with their new baby, a little girl. I had to stop and make the appropriate noises over the new arrival. I even got to hold her, while I drooled over her father.

Meanwhile at work, Mike, the senior tech, left for a job on some new fangled things called 'computers' and he was replaced by Archie. This did not please me one little bit. Archie was an overweight moron, who attended classes, in the vain hope of becoming an idiot. As though that wasn't bad enough, he didn't know how stupid he was, and this made him dangerous. Needless to say, he found it beneath him to take advice from an 18-year-old apprentice.

So, I just gave him enough rope and let him hang himself. Naturally there followed a series of catastrophic blunders, culminating with Archie laying a spanner down across the bus bars which supplied the 50 volts DC to the exchange. As they were coupled to a battery of high capacity lead acid cells, the spanner in question instantly turned into a fireball, which bounced off the ceiling and nearly burnt a hole in the floor. Unsurprisingly, every call on the whole exchange cleared down, causing endless chaos, and a short time later Inspector Donaldson summoned me to the office.

"Right, what the fuck is happening, Johnny?" he asked.

I looked at him cynically, but held my tongue.

"OK, everything you say is off the record, I just want this mess sorted out."

I had known the man for nearly three years and I had learned to trust him, so I decided to go for it.

"Archie is a dingbat. Technically he is incompetent and if I try to point out where he is going wrong, he gets pissed off and does the opposite."

"Any suggestions on a solution?"

"Well, if this was the Soviet Union you could send him to Siberia."

"But it's not. Got any sensible suggestions?"

"Quietly tell him to get down off his high horse and listen when I give him advice."

"Easier said than done."

"Oh, and send him on loads of training courses."

"Do you think he would benefit from them?"

"Of course not, but it'll keep him out of my hair."

Here Donaldson managed a smile and sent me packing. He must have had a word with Archie who began to listen to me after that. Donaldson also took me at my word and I soon found that Archie was scheduled for a couple of week's training. I drifted over to the office where I found Donaldson at his desk.

"Thank you, kind Sir, for having a little chat with Archie," I said, by way of an opening gambit.

"Well, things have been more peaceful, I notice."

"And thank you even more for sending him off for training."

"You're after something, Johnny. Spit it out lad."

"With Archie being away, I was wondering who would be standing in for him?" I said, trying to keep the slyness out of my voice.

"You'll be doing his job."

"And, who will be doing mine?"

"I suppose that you have someone in mind?"

"Young Jock was most helpful last summer. He is a quick learner and he would do nicely. Besides, I believe his wife has just had their first child, so the extra money would be useful to him."

"How philanthropic of you, I just wonder why I'm suspicious as all Hell. But, no doubt you have your reasons. OK, go ask him and if he agrees, he's yours."

"Can I have him a day early, just to show him the ropes?"

"I suppose so, now, be a good lad and quit while you're ahead."

I left the office and headed for the mess room. This was where the squads started out from each morning and ended up most evenings. My entrance to the mess room was, as usual, greeted with loud groans from everyone present. This is nothing personal, it comes from the fact that I am often the harbinger of disaster. In those days many of our telephone lines were overheads, that is, pole routes.

When we had storms the lines would be blown down, and I was the one who had to go down to the mess room to tell the squads that they had to go out into the pissing rain to repair things. Believe me, this does nothing to improve your popularity. However this time I fended them off with open palms and looked round for Jock. When I found him, I beckoned him to join me in the corridor.

"Hey Jock, fancy a couple of weeks working indoors and getting acting Tech 5's pay?" I asked.

"You bet, but what's the catch?"

"None," I lied, "but it is harder work than you might imagine. Archie is off on training and I can't run the section all on my own."

"And you think that I'm good enough?"

"Yup, you have a good head on you, I've just got to teach you how to use it."

"Anything else?"

"Yup, one night's overtime a week and we're booked up most Sundays. That's four hours at time and a half and eight at double time," I told him.

I could see him working out that this was twenty-two hours extra money, and at a much higher rate than he was usually paid. He began to smile, and it was like the sun coming out.

"Hey, I'll have to miss Church too! Sounds fine to me, what do I have to do?"

"Tell your Gaffer, I've already cleared it with Donaldson, and turn up Friday morning at the exchange."

And so a very happy looking Jock returned to the mess room, while a scheming young apprentice wandered back to the exchange, lost in the sexual fantasies of youth.

Friday morning found Jock, bright eyed and bushy tailed, waiting outside the exchange when I arrived. I let him in and, while I went through the reports that had come in overnight, he got landed with making the tea. Archie arrived, late as usual, and promptly got on with drinking the tea, while I cleared up the problems. Actually, it was a lot quicker this way, dealing with a fault that Archie had had a chance to fuck up, took a lot more time.

Most of the morning was spent teaching Jock the rudiments of testing the various types of telephone line we used and correctly identifying faults. There was a little 'bodge board' that we could attach to the test equipment and simulate all the lines and faults. Jock surprised me by learning very fast. Archie, who could well have used the revision, buried his nose in the sports pages of his newspaper and ignored us.

Come lunchtime we all went down to the booking hall and collected our wages. Archie departed for the pub and, I knew that if we saw him before 3:30, it would be a miracle. Jock and I went off to the staff canteen and had what passed for lunch. Then we went off to the District Control Room and picked up the key for the Signalman's training school.

This seat of learning, in fact a single room, was a bit of an anachronism. Once it had been used to train all the signalmen in the district, but now the equipment was fairly antiquated and it was seldom used. Everything in here worked on batteries, dry cells to be precise. One cheap power supply would have run the lot, but that would have involved Capital Investment, while replacing dry cells was just a maintenance charge.

This sort of apparently petty accounting really pissed me off back then. But now I realise that fucking about with these two terms, has recently caused some major American corporations to get kicked in the balls.

So, once a month I had the job of testing all the batteries and replacing any that were flat. Given the fact that the place was hardly used, it was a total waste of time. But on the other hand, I did have an unlimited supply of dry cells at my disposal. It also provided me with a location to which there was only one key. Once we were in there, we could not easily be disturbed. As it was on the first floor, and the only two windows looked down on the Station concourse, we could not be seen from outside.

As we entered I locked the door behind us and made no move to either put on the lights or unpack my meter. Instead I just got too close to Jock.

"You're after it again," he said.

"Now the baby has arrived, I suppose you're getting plenty at home."

"Christ, you really don't know anything about women, do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"God, as soon as the baby was here, it was her and the baby. I don't even get a look in these days."

"It'll pass," I said.

"What makes you think that?"

"I have a younger sister. So my mother must have got over me arriving," I said, with a grin.

He grinned too, and his arms went round me. Our lips met and his tongue pushed its way straight into my mouth. I could feel the hardness of his weapon pushing into my crotch. Again he stole all the air from my lungs. I let him do my breathing for me as I yearned for him to take me, body and soul. Eventually we broke the kiss.

"I'll just get it out for you," he said, reaching down to his flies.

"Let me do it, that way it'll be more fun."

He nodded, but seemed rather perplexed as I began to unbutton his shirt. Starting at the top I soon had a nice view of his neck and the upper part of his chest. I began kissing him on the chin, then worked down onto his neck. My hands moved ahead of my lips, unbuttoning as they descended. By the time I was running my tongue through the hairs round his navel, my nimble fingers had already unbuckled his belt.

I made a meal of licking my way down that lovely strip of hair on his belly, while his fly buttons were being undone. A gentle tug from me was all that was required to get his pants from his waist to his ankles. Now I could smell his erection. Before I released his manhood from the bondage of his Y-fronts, I buried my face in his crotch. The feel of a hard adult cock against my face made me shake all over. Slowly I pulled down the last barrier between us and his naked weapon touched my face.

God, this cock that was pressed against my cheek had actually made a baby. All of the cocks that I had sucked up until then had never even been inside a woman. But this was the real thing and I knew that it worked. However this time I was going to savour and swallow its life making juices.

Eventually I pulled back and looked at my prize. No immature, little teenage cock filled my field of vision, this was a man's weapon. I carefully grasped the shaft of it and squeezed gently. A glistening drop of love juice filled the eye of it. Very slowly, and deliberately, I extended my tongue and licked it off. Jock groaned. My hand on his shaft repeated the exercise, until another drop awaited me.

Gradually I brought my lips into contact with the head of his cock and made both it, and its owner, jump. Before he could stop me I retracted his foreskin and slid my wet lips over the head of it. Now it was too late for him to turn back, the head was in my mouth and my tongue could rejoin the game.

If the groaning and shuddering that was going on was any indication of my progress, I was winning hands down, but now it was time to change tactics. I slid more of him into my mouth. Gradually the head of his cock worked its way into the back of my throat, and I was having the Devil's own job controlling my gag reflex. It is so much easier with a slim boy-cock than it is with the thicker adult variety. But, my home town motto is 'Persevere', and persevere I did. There was a gasp of astonishment from Jock as I got the head of his cock into my throat. Then, at last, I could bury my nose in his pubic bush.

Of course in that position breathing is impossible, and although I can hold my breath for about a minute, sadly under such circumstances, time flies. Reluctantly I had to back off and feel my throat empty. Now I had fun running his cock in and out of my mouth. By concentrating most of my efforts on getting the head of it through my lips, I began to have the desired effect on him, he was losing all control.

Up until now I had been in the driving seat, as it were. But I wanted him to be in charge. To achieve this we had to switch roles without him really noticing. My hands went to his buttocks. They felt wonderful, the muscles were all tense. I pulled them gently towards me, as I pushed my face forwards and onto his cock. It took a little time but eventually his hips began to do the work. Then he cottoned on to the game and began to fuck my face properly. I could feel the muscles ripple under my touch as he drove his manhood in and out of my face.

I looked up at his face, his eyes were closed and his teeth were clenched, he was well away. I slid one hand round his balls and caressed them. His hands went to my head, steadying it as his hips pounded my face. This time he gave no advanced warning, he just let go. Suddenly my mouth was full of the thick goo that makes babies. Every time he pulled back I tried to swallow, but I had limited success. His spent seed began running down my chin.

We ended up with him bent over me, holding my head firmly on his cock. I managed to get my own little weapon out and as I sucked on his now softening member, I sprayed the floor between his legs with my load. To my total surprise, when we broke, he bent down and French kissed me.

"Don't you taste nice?" I asked, as out lips parted.

"Did you swallow it?"

I nodded.

"You like doing that?"

I reached out, caught his now drooping cock and I licked the last drops from the end of it, then I grinned up at him.

"You're a faggot," he announced.

"Gosh! What gave me away? Wait, don't tell me, I know. I closed my eyes when you kissed me, was that it?"

"You don't look like one. You dress like a boy, you act like a boy, but you suck cock."

"Well, you did seem to be enjoying it, and you got ever so insistent towards the end. I didn't have the heart to stop you."

"I don't think that I could have stopped myself, even if I had wanted to," he said.

He pulled me to my feet and again we kissed. His hands worked away at my waistband and soon they were on the inside of my underpants, cupping my buns. As he caressed them, his kisses got more intense. Then, he suddenly broke off and let me go. Just for a moment, he had had the desire to fuck me. Hmm, I would have to reinforce that.

In silence we dressed and, when we both looked OK, I unlocked the door and let us out. At the foot of the stairs we almost bumped into Inspector Donaldson. He had been looking for us to ask some questions about Sunday's job. Again Jock looked guilty and I was quite sure it did not pass unnoticed by Donaldson.

The rest of the day went quietly and our little game was not discussed. I think that both of us were a little overwhelmed by the animal we had unleashed. As predicted Archie turned up, pissed, about 3:30. We convinced him to go home before he got caught drunk on duty. Come 5pm I let Jock out of the exchange and locked up for the night.

Sunday was really more of a money-spinner than a job. All we had to do was run a backbone cable from the basement to the top floor. The only reason it was tricky was, it ran up the lift shaft and went into a distribution box on each floor. So, on Sunday, with the building deserted and the lift out of service, we rode up and down the lift shaft on the roof of the car, pinning the cable to the wall of the shaft. As all the connections in the distribution boxes could be done during normal office hours, the work was quickly completed. Alas, to get our money for the job we had to stick around until 5pm.

We had finished well before noon and got cleaned up, lift shafts are filthy places. After a leisurely lunch break I showed Jock some of the lesser-known parts of the Area Office. We had a celebratory pee in the executive loo, and ended up in the plushest office in the building, which was used by the Area Operations Manager himself. This semi-divine being lived so high up the company ladder, that neither Jock nor myself could even catch a glimpse of his feet.

The view of the city was magnificent and the carpet seemed to be about six inches thick. I was standing, admiring the vista from the window when Jock came up behind me. His arms went round me and he kissed the back of my neck, which brought me out in goose pimples! The hardness between his legs was pushed against my buns.

"Fancy doing it again?" he whispered in my ear.

"Doing what?" I asked innocently, while turning in his arms to face him, and earning myself a kiss in the process.

"You know," he said.

"Nope. You'll have to tell me," I said, coquettishly, adding, "talking dirty to me turns me on."

He looked at me strangely then said, "Will you suck it again?"

"You'll have to do a bit better than that. I want detail, and lots of it."

He looked thoughtful and made several false starts, then he said, "OK, I want you to undress me, kiss me all over, take my cock in your mouth and, and, and suck me till I come."

"And, when you do come?"

"You're gonna have to swallow it."

"Can I lick your balls while I'm down there?" I asked.

"Hmmm," he murmured.

This time, I got the shirt right off him slowly, taking care to miss no part of his upper body with my lips and caresses. He only protested when I buried my face in his armpit. Stale armpit smells foul, while a fresh sweaty armpit, if it belongs to the right guy, can be Heaven.

Unlike the last time his trousers and Y-fronts also came right off and he was left standing naked, apart from his boots, in this rather well appointed office. I took a moment out to stand back and admire him. A perfect specimen of the male human in his prime. His body was beautiful, muscles rippled, his furry buns curved flawlessly, his balls were already tucked up under the base of that big, thick cock of his. Yup, he was rampant and rearing to go.

"Down on your knees and start making me feel good," he ordered, apparently getting into the spirit of the game.

I dropped to my knees and he walked towards me, his hand round the shaft of his cock, slowly jacking himself off. When he reached me he wiped the wet end of his weapon all over my face, I was transported.

"God! You really like that, don't you?"

I answered by making a lunge for his manhood, trying to get it into my mouth.

He dodged back and grinned at me saying, "You still haven't licked my legs."

Obediently I started at his knees and slowly licked my way up the inside of his thighs until I got to his balls. He kept up the slow wank and finally, when I got to his nuts he raised them so they too could receive the attention of my tongue. I sucked one into my mouth, that was easy, getting its mate in beside it was a bit trickier, but, as ever, I persevered.

Now his cream filled nuts, were mine! Soon their contents would warm my belly. I licked them as best I could. When I released them he offered me his cock to work on. As he entered my mouth, I began a sneaky attack on his ass. His concentration on what was happening at the front, let me get a finger all the way up in between his buns, right up to his ring. After a lot of distraction from my mouth I got my index finger inside him. Now, I was almost in a position to blow his mind.

He had already taken charge of the proceedings and he was energetically fucking my face, when my gently probing finger found that strange flat area just behind the base of the cock, but on the inside. With sadistic pleasure, I began to massage his prostate.

Right up until that moment he had been more or less in control. Well, to be honest, running along the edge of losing it, but not quite. Once my finger began its depraved work, he lost it completely. He began thrusting with his hips in wild abandon, caring not for poor old me. Then he forced himself right into my throat and began to shoot his load directly into my gullet, effectively force-feeding me his jism. Thank God he pulled back in time for me to breathe, but I only got to taste the last remnants of his ejaculation.

This time he broke away from me as soon as he finished shooting. He looked as guilty as all Hell. I lay on the floor and got my cock out.

"Sit on my chest," I more or less ordered.

He complied and again I took his, now sagging, weapon into my mouth. I let my eyes slowly run upwards from the sight of his cock shaft, his bush, his navel, that wide muscular chest and onto his handsome face. I rubbed my cheeks against the inside of his hairy thighs, as I jacked myself off. God, what a wonderful view of a man! Then as I sucked out the last dregs of his load, I shot my own, right up his naked back.

When we both recovered he said, "We've got to talk."

I removed his sated manhood from my face and inquired, "Why?"

"Look, I've got a wife and kid, I shouldn't be messing about with boys."

"You need to get it out of your system, and while your wife isn't interested in doing it, I am. Anyway, doing it with another guy isn't really cheating on your wife. So where's the problem?"

Actually, most straight guys wouldn't consider having it off with another guy as being unfaithful, so he fell for that line.

"But you do things to me, I can't seem to stop you."

"You can't stop me because you don't want me to stop," I countered.

"But once you get me going, I really have to go all the way."

"Yeah, it's called 'wild sex'. Everyone likes a bit of danger in their lives, some fake it by going to the movies, or by reading. A lot of teenage boys like driving fast cars, others like doing other dangerous and bloody stupid things. Me? I get my kicks from making you lose your grip and shoot your load," I said.

This was the truth, alone with a naked man, twice my weight, several times as strong as me, then driving him to a sexual peak where he is not really responsible for his actions, was at least as stupid and dangerous as driving a fast car. However given the choice, I'll take the man every time, fast cars do nothing for me.

"You actually want me to lose my grip on myself?" he asked, incredulously.

"Yup!"

"Why, in God's name, why?"

"Because, then the animal, that you hide so well inside yourself, comes out to play, and believe me he plays rough, and I love it. God, the way you took off when I got a finger inside you..."

"Yeah, what the fuck did you do to me?"

"Ah, that is your hot spot. It is the reason that us gay guys like getting fucked up the ass."

Oops! Did young Johnny just reinforce a naughty idea in Jock's fertile little mind. Wicked Johnny! You shall have your wrist slapped and you will be sent to bed without any supper.

He got off my chest and stood up, then he helped me to my feet. he pulled me towards him and kissed me. This, I was beginning to realise, was his method of dealing with a situation that he couldn't handle verbally. Then I noticed that his hands were now on my naked buns. I placed my hands on his, much more muscular buns, and enjoyed how they felt.

"Your body is all soft, a bit like a woman's," he murmured.

His hand then wandered round the front of me and for the first time he touched my cock.

"Hmmm, now I see why you think I'm so big," he said, caressing his new found toy.

The hand that was still on my buns began to explore things there. He was a bit hesitant about going into my crack, but once he had a finger between my buns, his shyness evaporated. He rubbed my ring gently at first, making no attempt at entry, but eventually he began to push.

"You'll never get that big cock of yours in there without some help," I said.

"Spit?"

"It'll have to be more than that," I cautioned.

About here the discussion petered out as we got back to kissing again. After a while I found that we were now both completely naked and I liked it. Held in those strong arms, pressed against his wide, muscular chest, his lips on mine and his tongue trying to play with my tonsils, time drifted by unnoticed.

About here I made a mistake. His cock was once more rigid and I could feel it pressed into my belly. Foolishly I reached down and slipped it between my legs. God, it felt so good in there. But, Jock was not slow to catch on, he began mock fucking me, and it excited him. His finger eventually, with the help of some spit, got inside me and under my direction he soon found my hot spot. Jock at last began to initiate things.

If you have a full grown cock moving in-between your legs, with a probing finger rubbing the base of your own cock, on the inside, and you are having your breathing done for you by another, larger, male, your concentration can begin to slip.

Oh, I knew what he had in mind, and I could even predict his next move, but there was no way that I could fight my way to the surface and re- establish my control of the situation. Gradually I was brought to the floor, and eventually he broke the kiss. This allowed me to beg him to let me suck his cock, but he just laughed. Soon I was facedown on the carpet and my legs were being held wide apart by his knees. His weight easily pinned me to the floor and I felt a second finger enter me. Despite my protests I soon had three of his spit covered fingers wriggling about inside me.

"God, it's just like feeling up a girl," he said, "and, it's making you all excited!"

I couldn't really disagree with this statement, one glance at my stiff little cock would have convinced anyone that I was in Heaven. Then the fingers were removed and I felt the hot head of his manhood slip in- between my buns.

"No, please Jock. We need to use some lubricant. Not now, I'll get some, honest. Then I'll let you fuck me, OK?" I pleaded.

Alas, I was about to be fucked whether I let him or not, as his only reply was a thrust with his hips, and a none too gentle one at that! This drove the head of his weapon into me. To tell the truth it wasn't hurting yet, but soon its thick shaft would sink into me and I might be in agony. Oh God, what had I done? I had let loose a monster of my own making, and now I had no way of avoiding my fate. He gave another thrust and this time it did hurt. I yelled in pain, but he didn't back off, he just held me tighter.

"For God's sake, you're killing me!" I yelped.

At last he backed off and pulled out. He reached over and grabbed his pants, from the pocket he produced a jar of Vaseline! Not, I must say, my favourite lubricant, but now was not the time to be picky.

"I heard that you guys use this stuff, so I got some, just in case..." he growled in my ear.

He opened the jar and put a large gob of the grease on my ring, it was like a soothing balm. He scooped out more and applied it to his cock. Then that heavyweight dick was back between my buns, pushing its way into me. This time things went much easier and the head just slipped in. True, things felt very full back there, but now I was coping.

He was not being so savage with his thrusting, although he was still as determined as ever to spike me. However, thanks to the lubrication, he was at last making progress. For my part, I concentrated on relaxing, because if I tensed up now it would really hurt. He was filling me up like I had never been filled before, and to tell the truth, I was beginning to enjoy it. Twice I had to get him to back off and apply more grease, each time I had to plead with him. Finally he rammed home, right up to the hilt.

"God, you're tight," he said.

"You're too fucking big!"

"Oh, come on now, how many cocks have been in here before me?" he asked.

Silently I counted, then said, "Eight."

"You're a little slut, if you've had eight men up you, you should be able to take me."

"They were boys, their cocks were about the size of your finger," I protested.

"Move your ass, make it feel good for me," he ordered.

Experimentally I wriggled my backside and he sighed with pleasure. I then tried fucking myself on his cock, it felt nice, and he seemed to like it too. To this day I cannot understand why the term 'passive' is used for the guy who is getting fucked, because often I've worked harder than the lad on top of me.

However this time all that I needed to do was get him started, once he was away, I could just relax and enjoy the sensation of a much bigger male bringing himself to an orgasm using my body. My previous instructions to 'talk dirty' to me did not go unheeded.

As he reamed out my ass he whispered in my ear, "You're just a little whore, seducing happily married men."

In reply I squeezed his weapon with my ring.

"Do you like a man's cock inside you?" he asked.

"Yeah, fuck me harder, put your back into it, I want to feel you cum inside me."

On reflection, this might have been a mistake, as he took me at my word. His grip on me tightened and his hips began thrusting in earnest. He was using very long strokes, thus my ass was being emptied then refilled at an amazing rate, and with considerable force, I may add. I couldn't take such a punishing pace but, just as I was about to beg for mercy, I recognised the irregular pattern of his breathing that usually precedes an orgasm. I went rigid under him and inside me I felt his manhood swell, then buck violently as he sprayed my guts with his seed.

All this time my own little cock had been forced into the rather deep pile of the carpet and rubbed up and down. The feeling of him blasting his load into me coupled with all the previous stimulation took me over the edge. And so, a carpet that cost God alone knows how much a square foot, got a load of teenage cum dumped into its thick pile.

There was a beautiful pause of about two minutes during which neither of us said a word as we got our breath back. I just lay there, enjoying his weight on top of me and the delightful sensation of his cock shrinking inside my guts. Every so often I'd give his cock a squeeze, it would jerk, and a little more of his cum would ooze into me. I love the post-fuck period, knowing that I have been used by another male. Yes, I was in Heaven, filled with his seed at both ends. Then a very strident bell rang in the distance, and we both froze.

"What the fuckin' Hell is that?" he yelped.

"Quick," I said, "that's the front door. It'll be Donaldson, come to check up on us."

Jock was off me in a flash, but there was a look of panic in his eyes. I seem to be different from most folk, when there is an emergency, my head clears, and I become cold and calculating. Nothing distracts me, not even being naked in the Area Manager's office, with another, equally naked man, while our boss was bashing on the doorbell downstairs.

"Get dressed, go to the lift, pull back the last bit of the cable, so that when I bring Donaldson up you are hard at work," I said, scrambling into my clothes.

I moved much faster than he did, and I was heading out of the office while he was still struggling into his shirt, my cum on his back must not have completely dried. The continuously ringing bell was in no way helping. I made my way down the 7 flights of stairs to street level. On the last three flights I kept calling out that I was on my way. Donaldson must have heard me as the damned bell stopped. I paused in the foyer and glanced at myself in the mirror, yup, I would pass.

"Sorry it took so long sir," I said as I let him in, "but we were inside the lift shaft near the top floor and it took a while to get out."

"The lift isn't working?" he asked.

"Well, it is and it isn't, sir. We are sitting on top of it running out the cable, and at the moment it is stopped on the top floor, so we'll have to walk up."

Donaldson was not at the peak of fitness, so the trip back up to the top was a slow one, giving Jock bags of time to get into position. When we arrived he was struggling to feed the cable through the wall. I immediately began to help him and soon we were finished. However something had been noticed by Donaldson. He didn't say anything, but he seemed to be suspicious as all Hell. Jock looked like a kid who had been caught with his hand in the sweet jar, and this didn't help one little bit. Suddenly I realised what Donaldson had seen, Jock was mucky from being in the lift shaft again, but my hands were spotlessly clean.

"So, we can spend the rest of the day connecting the sections between the floors together," I said, trying to get the conversation going again.

Donaldson gave me a funny look, agreed that we should continue the work, even though it could be done in normal hours, then he left. There was no talk of any more hanky panky and I just showed Jock how we made off the cables. By the time 5pm came round the top 4 floors were connected through, the lift was back in service, the Area Manager's office was just as we found it and we let ourselves out. But, I do remember the weather was deteriorating as we waited for the bus home.

That night my sleep was disturbed a few times by the storm outside. It was the first one of the winter and it was a real hum dinger. Getting to work through it was not easy and I was glad that I had set out early. When I finally got to the exchange I could have wept. Lines were down all over the place and I knew that I would earn my pay that day.

Fortunately Jock was also early and he too looked shocked at the state of things.

"Are we in the shit?" he asked.

"Welcome to maintenance, the sign above the door says it all," I answered.

He looked back at the door and the sign reading 'Semper in excreta - solem alta variat'. Finally he asked, "What does it mean?"

"It's pig Latin for 'Always in the shit – only the depth varies," I replied.

"Is it bad today?"

"So far, we're in it pretty deep and we have every chance of going deeper yet," I said, as I plugged two headsets into the test board, handing him one and muting the mike on it as I did so.

"OK, today you listen and learn. Don't ask questions if I'm busy, wait until I come up for air. Today is going to be Hell, so we'll keep a log of everything we do. Our first job is calibrating the test gear."

When that was done I started contacting Linesmen and arranging tests on the faulty lines. Jock sat next to me listening and taking notes. Every time we had a moment free, he plied me with questions about my actions. Things were going OK, for the first 15 minutes that is, then we dived really deep into the shit. It wasn't very spectacular to watch from where we were sitting, all that happened was 5 white lights came up simultaneously on my board.

A white light indicates an incoming call. When the signalman wants to call in he presses a button on the side of his phone. This button connects the two legs of the phone line together and at my end, this lights the lamp. However for 5 signalmen to pick the exact same instant to call in was pushing coincidence too far. Quickly I checked each line, there were no calls on them!

"Shit, now we are right in it!" I exclaimed. "The storm has brought a pole down."

Instantly I was fully awake. Using the emergency line I contacted the control room and had all traffic on the East Coast route halted.

"You can't shut down the East Coast route, you're only an apprentice," said a shocked Jock.

"Oh yes I can and I just did. By the time I contact someone in authority and convince him to issue the order, a passenger train might have hit the pole, derailed and killed people," I explained as I switched circuits.

Jock just looked at me as if I had grown horns and a spiky tail.

"Now in theory, the track circuits, which detect the trains' positions, use the same overhead wires, so they should also have failed. They are designed to 'fail safe', showing a train on the track, this should interlock the signals and stop all the trains. But that is only 'in theory', in practise you never rely on your safety circuits," I said.

While I got on with my work the controllers tried to find out which phones were still working, thus giving us an idea of where the pole was down. I called Donaldson's line but the clerk answered, Donaldson was late. I left a message telling him to contact me the instant he came in. Then I began phoning people and issuing more orders. After about 5 minutes Donaldson called me.

"OK Johnny, what's the score?" he asked.

"We have a pole down on the East Coast route. Following 'your orders' I have sent a squad out with a reel of emergency cable, so we can get the trains running again ASAP. You are currently on your way to the stores depot to pick up a reel of 200 lb copper wire, since only an Inspector can sign for that. The truck is waiting for you on the Station concourse. By the time you get to the stores I should have the size of pole that they need and you can take it with you in the truck. Apart from that we have a few other lines down and they are being worked on."

"My, my, I have had a busy start today. OK, I'll call you when I get there," he said, and hung up.

"Christ!" said Jock, awe in his voice, "You are acting like you were an inspector yourself, and everyone does what you tell them."

"Carpe Diem," I said.

"Huh?"

"Seize the day! Make the most of the moment. That is the magic of the phone. No one can see that I only look like I'm fifteen. So if I sound as if I'm in charge, they believe it, and do what I tell them to do. After all, we are trying to run a railway."

But, at that moment, the railway wasn't running well at all. The East Coast route normally handled more than half the total north-south traffic. Luckily all the overnight sleeper trains would be in and the big passenger trains usually started off between 10am and 2pm. Hopefully we would be running some sort of service by then. That said, a lot of commuters would be late for their offices this morning and the freight trains, which usually ran at this time would be sitting idle.

After awhile the squad phoned in, they had found the pole, it was across the tracks. I looked up the wire positions on the poles for the two lines that ran the block instruments and the single wire that carried the bell circuit. When these were connected and the tracks were cleared, we could have trains moving again. I also gave them the positions of one telephone circuit. This used up the 5 wires in the emergency cable which would be used until the pole could be replaced.

Next I was on to the stores telling them the size of pole required and directing Donaldson to the scene. Jock sat next to me, his mouth hanging open as I barked orders. Soon some of the other circuits began to come back into service and the pressure eased enough for us to have a cup of tea and a biscuit. Just as we started eating, the direct line from the switchboard lit and I plugged in.

"I've got a 'do you know who I am?' screaming for attention on 3549. Can you deal with him?" said the voice of the switchboard supervisor.

"I've got about enough time to put a flea in his ear," I answered.

"Well, be a dear, and get him off my back," she said, clearing the line.

"What's a 'do you know who I am?'" asked Jock.

"Just listen," I said, plugging the test set into 3549.

I tested the line and found no fault. So I pressed down on my ring key. After a pause we heard the handset being lifted and a voice said, "Yes?"

"Engineers. You have a problem?" I snapped, in my best 'no nonsense' voice.

"Too damn true I have, and so far bugger all has been done about it! I've been phoning every 5 minutes since 9am to get someone to come and fix it, but I've just been given the run-around," he barked back at me.

"Things are rather busy this morning and we are very short staffed," I parried.

"I'm not interested in your excuses, I want my phone fixed."

"Perhaps if you could describe the fault..."

"OK! Every time I try to dial, I get a very irritating clicking in the earpiece."

Shit!

"That is the only problem? I mean, apart from that, you can use the phone normally?"

"Yes, but as I said, it's damned annoying."

"Sir, at the moment the East Coast Route is closed, due to a pole being down. Several of our long distance lines are also giving us problems. I am working alone with only a trainee. So I fear that you may have to wait."

This I knew would provoke the very predictable reaction, so as he spoke I mouthed the words to Jock.

"Do you know who I am!" he roared.

"Yes sir. You are the subscriber on line 3549. As you are not part of the emergency services, or part of operations, you have no priority. As soon as all the major faults are cleared, I'll get round to your problem."

"Listen! I want to speak to your supervisor and I want to do it right now!"

"Currently he is at the scene of the downed pole, where he is supervising clearing the track and getting communications restored, so we can run trains again. Which you will no doubt remember is why we are all here. Out there, where he is, it is blowing a gale and pissing down with rain. I really do NOT think this would be the best time to disturb him with your problem."

His reply was to slam the handset back into the cradle.

"Who is he?" asked Jock.

I consulted the reverse directory and looked up 3549.

"He is an under-manager in catering," I said.

Another line on my board lit, I plugged into it, and our day proceeded. I had had the foresight to bring sandwiches, which I shared with Jock as we slowly cleared up the mess. By 2pm it was all over bar the shouting and at last we could take a break.

About an hour later we set off for the Area Office, stopping in the cable room in the basement to collect our tools and equipment. This was more of a broom cupboard than a room, containing the main cable which ran across to the exchange and the distribution board which fanned the lines out over the building. We usually kept a set of the basic tools and test equipment there.

Then it was off, upstairs to attend to the problem on 3549. The guy immediately got off on the wrong foot by bawling us out for taking our time in getting there. He compounded his felony by addressing Jock instead of me.

When I started to explain I was immediately cut-off by him saying, "I was talking to the organ-grinder, not his monkey."

I smiled sweetly, while I raged internally. This fucker was going to suffer for his arrogance. But I could wait for my revenge.

"Actually I'm the engineer and he is my trainee," I said.

Alas, he didn't believe me and point blank refused to let me dismantle his phone. So with me telling him each move, Jock took the phone to bits, cleaned the contacts in the dial, which had been the cause of the trouble, then I instructed him on its reassembly. The guy sat and seethed with rage throughout the entire procedure. When Jock was finished, I insisted on the guy testing the phone and agreeing that it was working properly, then we left.

"What an asshole," commented Jock, as we walked back downstairs.

"Oh don't worry, I'll get the bugger. I'll just leave it for a couple of weeks so that he doesn't connect the two incidents," I said.

I was storing the tools and equipment in the cable room when I heard the door being quietly closed and locked behind me. Then Jock's arms went round my waist and his crotch was thrust into my buns. I could feel his hard dick press into my butt as he gently humped against me. A weird thrill went through me as I realised that he was getting hard for me. God! My body was turning him on!

"I wanna fuck you again," he whispered in my ear.

"Not a chance," I replied, "I'm still so sore from yesterday that I can hardly sit comfortably."

"Are you really that bad?"

"Yeah, you aren't getting in there again until I get some proper lubrication, and I haven't had a chance to get out to the shops today."

"Then you'll have to suck my cock again," he said.

God, aren't men romantic?

"Your wife should be arrested for letting you out on the street in this condition," I told him, as I slid a hand round behind me and stroked his manhood through his pants.

I turned in his arms and we kissed. As he did the breathing for the pair of us, I undid the buttons on his pants, then I reached inside and worked his erection free of his underwear. Slowly the delectable aroma of aroused male filled the air of the small room. Gradually I sank to my knees, reluctantly breaking the kiss, then rubbing my face against his naked weapon. I peeled back his foreskin and revealed the head of it. Already he was oozing love juice, just for me. I delicately picked up the glistening drop with my tongue and savoured it before going back for more.

Cupping his balls in one hand, the other being wrapped round the shaft, I began to use my lips and tongue to work on the sensitive head of his organ. This time I didn't try to swallow him whole, I just concentrated on his glans. Immediately he reacted, running his fingers through my hair.

Outside the door people passed to and fro talking to each other, while a few feet away from them, I drove a man out of his mind with pleasure. As usual there was no warning from him, before my mouth filled with his seed. But this load was not destined to make a baby, it was part of him that I had stolen and would forever be part of me. I took a perverse pleasure in sucking the contents of his balls out through his cock and down into my stomach.

When I could get no more out of his cock I let him have it back. He pulled me to my feet and, as usual, kissed me. For a straight guy he didn't seem to mind his mouth coming in contact with cum. In fact I could swear his tongue hunted round inside mine looking for any traces that were left. After we tidied ourselves up, we locked up and set off back to the exchange. It was nearly going home time and we stopped in one of the public toilets in the Station to wash up.

As we walked down the corridor to the exchange I could hear someone talking. When we walked in I found it was Inspector Donaldson, on the phone. Jock instantly looked as guilty as Hell, and Donaldson noticed. But by the time he got off the phone Jock had gone home.

"I must congratulate you on your actions this morning. You did everything correctly and you even managed to cover my ass. I'll remember that. Now, what the fuck are you doing to Jock?"

"Doing to him? I'm training him. I know he's only a labourer, but he is not as stupid as he looks. If you leave him around here he'll be able to do my job in about six months," I said, not quite clutching at straws.

"Can the crap!" snapped Donaldson, "Every time I run across the pair of you, he looks like he has been caught doing something he shouldn't, and you look so innocent that butter wouldn't melt in your mouth."

"But I'm only trying to help him. Being a labourer all his life, with a wife and growing family..."

"Nah, you're too smart by half. You're up to something, the pair of you."

"But, his wife has just had a kid, they need the money," I said.

No sooner had the words left my lips than I knew that I had over played my hand. Inside Donaldson's head the little light came on!

"Yes, of course, that's it. God I'm getting stupid in my old age. His wife has just given birth, he's not getting any at home, and you're having it off with him!"

I know my self-control is good, but this was too much, I blushed.

"You crafty little bastard. You nailed the poor bugger when he was randy. Suddenly cut off from his usual supply and little Johnny conveniently turns up, ready and willing," he said, with a grin.

"The poor man was quite frustrated, his wife didn't want it, and I did. I see it as doing them both a favour. Soon she'll get over having the baby, and then he won't need me any more. so there'll be no harm done," I rationalised.

"Just be very careful Johnny. Breaking up a marriage is a terrible thing to do. Especially when there are kids involved."

"Can I rely on your discretion, sir?" I inquired.

"Oh don't worry lad, I won't drop you in it. But watch out that you don't get caught. Women are not as stupid as you seem to think. They notice things, especially a husband who isn't trying to get his leg over every night."

But of course the over confidence of youth ensured that his good advice fell on deaf ears. About the same time the following evening Jock and I could have been found in the long-lines equipment room in the basement, with his cock stuck in my face, while I did my very best to make him shoot. The only part of the whole situation that I couldn't understand was; why his wife was turning up her nose at such wonderful sex?

Wednesday was the day we worked on into the evening. This was preventative maintenance, where we try to catch faults early, before they cause trouble. As ever, it was a boring job. Each of us sat by a phone, and one dialled the other, then we checked; the dial tone, the ring tone and the ringing current that made the bell ring, were all working. Next the ringing phone was lifted and the quality of the voice circuit verified. Lastly we hung up and made sure that all the equipment cleared down.

The whole cycle was then repeated until all the possible connections between the switches had been tested. Only 2 selectors were found to be dodgy, these were switched out of use to be worked on later. Bored to tears, we finished about 30 minutes early.

I was just clearing up, when Jock's now familiar arms came round my waist. He nuzzled the back of my neck and pressed his hardness into my buns.

"I hope that sore ass of yours is better," he whispered into my ear, "because I'm going to take you downstairs, strip you off, bend you over the table, and give you a right seeing to."

Now, I ask you, what self-respecting little faggot could resist an offer like that? It felt strange going down the stairs, passing colleagues on the way, and knowing that I was just being taken downstairs to be fucked. This man, who was so quietly walking beside me, was going to sexually misuse me for his pleasure, and his pleasure alone. He would not stop until he had filled me with his cum.

Locked in the basement room, lit only by the indicating lamps on the racks of equipment, he undressed me. Then I was made to sit before him, naked, on the cold linoleum floor, while he casually stripped off. When he was just down to his, now tented out, Y-fronts he let me take them off him, but only using my teeth.

His balls were first to receive the attentions of my tongue and lips. Then I got to work on his manhood. He had a most adequate foreskin, now that is something I like in a man. But apparently I was being just a tad too skilful, as I soon got pulled off his cock and bent over the table.

This was a new position for me, and I found it to be delightfully demeaning. There is not a shred of dignity left to you, when you are bent naked over a table, having to hold the cheeks of your ass apart while a large, hairy man applies a lubricant to your ring. There was a pause, that only heightened my suspense, while he greased the organ which would do the dirty deed.

Then that first touch, as the head of it slithered around to find the elusive entrance to my back passage. Once engaged, he pushed and I relaxed. The stretching that he had given me the previous Sunday had not worn off and I was not nearly as tight as I had been. To the surprise of both of us, he got a hole-in-one. I don't know what it felt like to him, but for me the sensation of having my ass crammed full with his cock in a single thrust, almost defied belief.

There I was, bent over a table, my legs spread wide, the cock of the man standing directly behind me was right up inside me, and I felt great! This was what I loved to be, a receptacle for Jock's manhood. When he began to slide it in and out of me, why that was just the icing on the cake. Experimentally I tried to escape, and got instantly grabbed by the hips. The fuck had started, and it was now far too late to avoid my fate.

He was using long strokes, almost totally withdrawing, before plunging back home again. As he laboured towards his goal of filling me with his load, he told me what a little cock tease I was. How I was only fit for servicing men like him. He knew that I was only really happy when I had a man's cock in my ass. Honestly, I hardly touched my own cock before I started shooting. God alone knows what it felt like to him, to have a boy's ass contract on his cock as an orgasm hit. But he just growled and redoubled his efforts to split my ass in two. Then I felt his cock swell and buck as he pumped me full of his cream.

This time, no doorbell disturbed our post-coital pause. I never really noticed the hardness of the table under my chest. Exhausted, he lay on top of me, his sweat running down both our bodies. His cock shrank slowly inside me, as I used my ass to entice the last drops out of it. When we did part, and he slid out of me, a terrible feeling of emptiness swept over me and I tried to back onto him again. But it was hopeless, I had been used and he was finished with me, well, for the moment, at least.

We kissed and he slid a finger into me.

"God, you're getting really slack back there," he said, breaking the kiss.

"At this rate, I'll soon be able to take you on spit," I murmured, before searching out his lips again.

Later as we ascended the stairs, again passing people, I wondered what they would have thought, if they knew that my ass was full of his sperm.

Before the first week of Jock's time in the exchange had ended, we had a system running. At least once a day he got his cock sucked. Usually in the basement but sometimes in the tool room of the Area Office. But the highlights of my week were Wednesday evening and Sunday. Then I got properly dealt with. No quick blowjob, with only his flies open, we both ended up naked, and fucking.

On the evening sessions the large table in the trunk lines room got used, most imaginatively I thought. I was fucked bent over it, lying on my back with my legs on his shoulders while he stood and rooted around in my innards with that cock of his. He even lay on the table and made me sit on his manhood, effectively fucking myself on his erect dick.

Sundays however were more adventurous. We had the entire Area Office to ourselves. There is a strange, and very perverse pleasure, in being bent over the elite, executive loo, while your ass is reamed out by a lusty male. What would all those toffee-nosed managers think if they knew what had happened in their exclusive little domain?

We were even going up in the lift one time when he stopped it between floors, and the car stayed there until what was in his balls had been squirted into my ass. That was the same day that he chased me the length of the general office, then took me down with a rugby tackle and raped me where I landed.

But all good things come to an end, and Archie's imminent return from the course signalled Jock's departure. It had been a happy two weeks for both of us and we were sorry to part. Mind you, it only took a week of not having a decent sized cock in me, before I was quietly going mad.

Archie came back from the course worse than when he went. Now he thought he knew everything, definitely much more than I knew. Fortunately he brought back all the course materials and I read them through. But Archie was in the 'New Broom' mode, everything was wrong with our exchange, well, in his eyes anyway.

The bit that was missing from his equation was, our exchange was more than 30 years old, and, as it was an electro-mechanical monster, it had suffered a lot of wear in that time. However, to demonstrate his new prowess, he took one selector and told me he was going to replace all the worn parts and adjust it correctly.

The only thing that this proved to me was; Archie did not know the meaning of the word 'adjust'. Now any sensible person would have replaced one worn component, then got the selector back in working condition before moving on to replace the next.

Sadly, such foresight was not afforded to Archie. He replaced everything he could, then tried to make the damn thing work. When it failed to perform it was left on the bench, as he quickly lost interest in it.

There will be no prizes awarded for guessing which poor sucker spent about a week and a half coaxing the selector back into a workable condition. On the plus side, this incident dampened Archie's ardour for work, and he went back to being his usual lazy self. On the negative side, I began to actively hate the man. Well, he was getting paid a lot more than me, and he was riding on my back.

However it was now time to take my revenge on dear old, 'Do you know who I am'. I devised a plan which would get him and Archie at the same time. One Wednesday evening, when most people had gone home, I dropped into the Area Office and went to the idiot's room, there I opened up his phone. Once inside, I carefully cut and removed one wire in such a manner that it didn't show. This put a most interesting fault on the telephone.

When phones began to become a bit sophisticated some bright bugger invented the hybrid transformer. This clever little device separates the incoming speech from the outgoing speech, allowing the incoming signal to be slightly amplified.

However the device is just a tad too efficient and when it was first used it stopped all of the outgoing signal from reaching the earpiece. This gave the phone a 'dead' feeling. So they put in a circuit that fed a little part of the outgoing signal back to the user, and that was the wire that I had cut. This particular little fault makes the caller shout into the phone and irritate the person at the other end.

The next morning there was a fault docket claiming that 3549 was dead. I tested the phone and found it to be OK. Then I had an amusing 5 minutes listening to the guy trying to explain the symptoms of the fault. Since he could hear me perfectly and I could hear him, it was difficult. It finally culminated in the following conversation.

"But if we can both hear each other, where is the problem?" I asked.

"But I can't hear myself!" he bellowed.

"Actually the phone is provided for you to hear the other party, sir. You can hear yourself through your other ear," I ventured.

In the end I said we'd be across later. He reminded me he didn't want 'the boy' this time, he wanted a real engineer. So I sent Archie, and had a hilarious time testing the phone with him. To add to the fun I put the same fault on the first spare phone in the stores. So, when Archie picked it up to replace the faulty instrument, the fault was still there.

Sometime, months later, I was working near his office one Sunday and I soldered the broken wire back in again. But I wonder how many of his callers thought the poor man was going deaf when he hollered down the phone at them.

One day I was in the Inspector's office getting some requisition forms signed when Donaldson pulled me to one side. When we could not be overheard he quietly asked me if Archie still got drunk every Friday. I just nodded, and he winked at me. No more was said, and on the following Friday nothing happened. I was a bit disappointed, but held my peace.

Late one Friday night I was picking up some fish and chips on my way home when I ran into Jock, alone.

"Are you busy tomorrow?" he asked.

An odd opening gambit, I must admit, but I shook my head.

"Good, the wife is on the 9:30am train. She is off to visit her mother, who has been feeling poorly. Fancy coming round our house to muck about a bit?" he asked.

Now, when you haven't had a 'right good seeing to' for some time, and someone offers you the chance to get your ashes raked, you tend not to look for flaws, you just jump at it.

So the following day found a horny young Johnny knocking on Jock's door just after 10am.

Jock opened the door with his finger to his lips shushing me into silence.

"I've just got her to sleep, so don't make a noise," he whispered, as he closed the door behind me.

For one wild moment I thought he was referring to his wife! But then I realised that it was his daughter. So, with his baby sleeping in the next room he led me to his bed and left both doors open in case she cried.

Normally I would not be able to perform under such circumstances, but after going without it for so long I decided to persevere. In any event, the sight of Jock stripping off would have quickly changed my mind.

Soon we were naked, on top of the bed, rolling around in each other's arms, trying to swallow each other's tongues. In this blissful state I was so busy enjoying myself that I failed to notice exactly what was happening to me. Oh, I knew that I was now face down and he was on top of me, but it wasn't until one arm got sort of stuck, that I realised that I was being tied to the bed!

The second arm was immobilised very quickly, then to shut me up, and stop me from waking the baby, he gagged me. I had never had that happen to me before, but I must admit that his choice of gag was novel; his Y- fronts, stuffed into my mouth and held in position with a necktie.

As he dealt with my ankles I could now see the two ropes that held my wrists to the bedposts. Examining the knots I knew that my position was hopeless. In less time than it takes to tell, both of my ankles suffered the same fate as my wrists and no further resistance on my part was possible!

He lay on top of me, his weight pressing me into the towel he had slid under me. His hot erection was pushed into the crack of my ass, probing gently, as he tried to find my ring. He spent five minutes telling me what a whore I was, and how I tricked honest, married men into disgusting deeds. Then he spent the next five telling me, in detail, what he was going to do to me.

As my only method of replying, was grunts, it was a rather one-sided conversation. But, it had the required effect, I had never been so horny. Every time I breathed in, I could smell his cock from my gag. If he didn't get his weapon inside me pretty soon, I was going to mess the towel up unaided!

He had no lubricant, except spit, and to give him his dues, he used a lot of it as he fingered me. All I could do was lie there and try not to cum. Then, I felt that now familiar touch of his cock head engaging on my ring. A slow, and surprisingly gentle, thrust was made and he entered me. But it was not a short thrust, he sank his entire manhood into me in one delicious movement.

"Happy to have a man inside you again?" he asked, quietly.

I grunted, nodded and twitched my ass in agreement.

"Well, you're in for a good time, there's a week's worth in my balls, and it is going to be all yours," he whispered in my ear.

I kept repeating to myself, 'I mustn't cum, I mustn't cum. Please God, don't let me cum'.

"Y'know, I've dreamed of tying someone to the bed, ever since I was about your age. So I could fuck them as hard and as often as I liked, and they would just have to take it. Mind you, I never guessed it would be another guy," he said, pulling back until he was almost out of me.

Then he pushed his way back into me and I thought that I had died and gone to Heaven. It was the slowest, and most erotic fuck, that I had ever had in my short life. He was in no hurry to reach his peak and he had me in such a position that I could not refuse him anything.

Quite gradually his climax approached and, despite my most intense efforts, I reached my own crescendo just before he did. Thus giving him a wild time as he fucked my writhing, but captive body.

As I lay there, enjoying the dual feelings of him being on top of me, and inside me, at the same time, I reached a decision. Archie would have to go! If I had Jock working along side me, then this sort of sex would almost be on tap, so I began to plot.

Eventually his daughter woke up and began to cry. This was the only time in my life as a gay guy, that I had a crying infant disturb me on the job!

He got off me and released me, then we cleaned up, put some clothes on and changed the baby. Surprisingly I get on quite well with kids. This one was at the age where I built up the coloured bricks and she knocked them down. It is a totally mindless game and a kid will play it for ages.

Jock and I shared the lunch his wife had left him. Then his daughter and I got put back to our respective beds. This time however I was tied to the bed face up, at my own request. There is something terribly erotic about lying on your back, helpless, a naked man straddling your chest, with his rising cock scant inches from your lips.

The vision that my eyes took in that long gone Saturday afternoon is etched forever in my memory. The sight of his thick cock, with the head just emerging from his foreskin. The dirty blond bush which hid the base of his shaft. The line of hair running up his flat belly and on to his well-muscled chest. And, last but not least, the wicked grin on his face as he wiped the head of his dick across my lips.

Before I could get the damn thing into my mouth, he whipped it away and instead presented me with his balls. I started by licking them, then I got one in my mouth. Again it was a struggle to get them both in at once, but I managed. As I made love to his nuts he slowly jacked himself off. When I released them I fully expected to get his cock as a replacement, but instead he inched forwards, and I was given the bit behind his balls to lick.

This was not exactly novel to me, and I had a fair idea where we were heading, so I cooperated and moved my tongue back a bit. He never said a word, but just groaned quietly as I slowly parted his buns with my face. The musky, very male aroma, drove me crazy and I pushed up as he sat on my face. Then I reached my destination and lovingly kissed his ring.

"Oh God! Yesss," he hissed, as I ran my tongue over his tight little pucker.

Getting my tongue into him was like seducing a virgin, he tried desperately to resist, but in the end, the sensation was too good and he slowly gave in to my demands.

I had been so busy that I hadn't quite noticed he was still jacking himself off and I was therefore quite surprised when my prize was lifted from my face. However my disappointment was short lived as it was almost immediately replaced by his cock head.

Steadying my head with his free hand, he coolly brought himself to his climax by jacking off, making sure that every drop of his load was mine. Gradually his hand stopped moving on the shaft and I was left to coax out what still lurked in it. I remember a drop of his sweat landing on my face as we slowly came back to earth.

"You're a dirty little bugger and no mistake," he said, with a grin.

I smiled as best I could with his cock in my mouth. The remainder of the afternoon was spent lying on the bed, cuddling and kissing, until the baby needed attention again. I nipped out and got us some fish and chips about 5pm. After the baby was asleep I managed to get him to fuck me one last time, over the end of his sofa, before I went home, sated, to my lonely bed.

Sunday, working with Archie was a total anticlimax. Had it been Jock we would have had a fun time and I would have had the joy of feeling him erupt inside me again. Instead we spent the day bickering over silly little things. The high point of the day was just as I was going home. I spotted Jock, with his daughter in his arms, waiting on the platform for his wife's train to come in. He didn't see me, and I left it that way.

About a month later I was sitting alone in the exchange, feet on the table, reading a book. Now it is quite true to this very day, that when I'm bored I'll read anything. And as luck would have it, the only thing to hand that day was a manual. Which was just as well because the door opened and the lowest ranking person who entered was Donaldson.

He was accompanied by, our immediate boss, and our department's Great Man, The Regional Engineer! I had only ever seen him twice before and then at a distance, however, like everyone else in the department, I knew him by reputation.

He was a kindly old duffer, who had sort of grown into the job through seniority. He was never allowed to get near so much as a screwdriver, and he was usually kept in an office, only to be let out for ceremonial occasions. He was due to retire in a year and was just working for his pension.

We were introduced and, what with it being Friday and Archie in the pub, I got the job of showing the Great Man round the exchange. I was quite nervous, not of him, but of my real boss. However the questions were easily answered and the spot inspection was going well. My boss was smiling as we headed for the door with the intention of visiting the switchboard, when the door in question burst open, and a very drunken Archie, all but fell in.

Now in retrospect Archie might have just got away with it had he been sober enough to keep his trap shut. Alas Archie was one of those people who speaks his mind, and this bad habit was greatly magnified by the alcohol in which his brain seemed to be floating.

So, after he had given The Regional Manager a detailed rundown on his shortcomings as a manager, we could all see that Archie's future with the company was seriously limited. Our boss told Donaldson to get a van and take Archie home. Soon I was left alone and distinctly shaken, but not for long.

In those days the bush telegraph was terribly efficient in the railways, and, after about 30 minutes, one of the squad gaffers arrived. He reminded me that he was also the union shop steward, and he was there on 'Official Union Business'. As an apprentice, I was not required to be a union member, but I was covered by them. So I was the equivalent of a 'neutral country' in the union-management war.

He asked what had happened and I gave him all the ghastly details. He sucked air through his teeth and gave the opinion that, if this was what happened, then there was little that the union could do to save Archie's job. He sucked some more air through his teeth, shook his head sadly, and left.

The phone rang and I was summoned to the boss's office. On the way over I met up with Donaldson who was apparently answering a similar summons, so we arrived together.

The Great Man had gone back to hide in his office and our boss was obviously in a foul mood. We were ushered into his inner sanctum and offered seats.

"Well, it didn't turn out to be such a brilliant idea to show him round the exchange, did it Donaldson?" he said, as his opening line.

Inspector Donaldson began to protest but he was cut off immediately.

"Oh, of course you couldn't foresee that fool blundering in drunk, it was just bad luck," admitted the boss.

I sat, rigidly on my chair, not daring to look in Donaldson's direction.

"The point in question now is, will the unions let us fire him?" the boss pondered.

I gave a discreet cough, and the boss looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"I have good reason to believe the union considers his case to be a lost cause," I ventured, "Being caught drunk on duty can get you fired, then there was the rest..."

"Is your source reliable?"

"As reliable as shop stewards get," I replied.

"I'll have to watch you, Johnny, you're a lot sharper than you look," said the boss, making me go all red.

"So, Archie is history, where does that leave us?" he continued.

"Just about where we were before," said Donaldson, "Johnny here has been running things since Mike left, Archie only got the job through seniority, he is almost useless."

The boss looked at me and I nodded. Donaldson and I were doing a terrific double act, our timing was perfect, considering we had never rehearsed it.

"Could we put Johnny in as acting Tech 1 until his apprenticeship ends and quietly promise him the job?"

Although the question was not aimed at me, I nodded along with Donaldson.

"As the union caused Archie to get the job, and are therefore responsible for today's debacle, they will be keeping their heads down on this one, I think. So Johnny runs the section on the acting rate, halfway between his own wage and that of a Tech 1. Now where has that got us?"

"OK so far, but I can't run it solo, I need an assistant," I said, taking my cue from the kick Donaldson gave me under the table.

"Any suggestions?"

Donaldson instantly stepped in and said, "Young Jock was doing the assistant's job for a couple of weeks a while back, was he any good, Johnny?"

"He was great, a fast learner and a hard worker," I said, keeping my end of the double act going.

"Right! Here is how it is going to happen. I'll talk to the union and we'll agree that the job of Tech 1 is not filled until Johnny is old enough. The Tech 5 job will be advertised and a proficiency test will be given to all the applicants. In the mean time Jock will be an acting Tech 5. It'll take about a month to advertise the job, collect the applications and set the test. In that time Johnny can coach Jock for the test. Any questions?"

Both of us shook our heads and we were soon ushered out. We didn't shake hands until we were well down the corridor and round the corner. I made a dash for the squad room, pulled Jock out and told him the good news. As it happened, he had some good news for me.

"Great! I'll be needing the money, as the wife's pregnant again," he said, grinning wildly.

"Oh, you managed to get your leg over?" I said, dodging his punch to my chest.

"Yeah! I just did to her what I did to you."

"Don't be silly, you can't get a woman pregnant doing what we were doing," I said, playing dumb.

"No, you daft bastard, I mean I tied her to the bed, and she loved it. I've been getting it regularly ever since."

"And I've been cast aside like a worn glove," I lamented, trying to keep a straight face.

"Aye, but soon her belly will swell and then you'll be in with a chance," he said, groping my ass.

"So, you start Monday and we have a month to get you up to standard. We could start now if you like. Have you ever seen our trunk lines equipment room? It is not far from here and I just happen to have the key in my pocket..."

Two minutes later, in the dim light of the equipment room, I was to be found, on my knees, worshiping his cock with my mouth and his cum tasted just as good as ever.

And so one of the happiest periods of my life began. What I would not have believed, even if you had told me at the time, was that it was also the start of the happiest parts of two other lives as well.

My sex life settled down to a nice weekly routine, something very unusual for a teenage lad, who usually has to grab it when he can.

Almost every workday I got to blow him, while on Wednesday evenings and Sundays I would get fucked. Most Sundays this was a multiple fuck situation as we normally worked alone. However if we were working with a gang, we would leave things until we got back to the exchange, then visit the trunk lines room in the basement.

We soon discovered that my favourite position was with Jock lying on his back on the table. Then I'd 'mount' him by getting on top and sitting down on his erect cock. There is something nice and kinky about lowering yourself onto a rampant cock and feeling it being driven up, into your guts.

Once impaled, I would be left to do the work. I'd slowly rise, going as high as I dared, sometimes almost letting him get completely out of me, with only the tip touching my ring, then I'd sit down again and he would be safely plugged back inside me.

From this beginning I would gradually speed up, but, never enough for him to shoot. After I had reamed my ass out for long enough, he would growl, seize my hips - holding me in the air, then at last, his hips would move and drive us both to the climax of our coupling. Usually he would be sprayed by my seed long before he shot his load into me.

Now although my sex life was fine, the rest of my life was not. Mike, who had left for a job in 'computers' had kept up a regular correspondence with me. In this he had described the joys of working in that field. Unlike me he didn't work on equipment that was 30 years old, his was at the cutting edge of technology! So, I resolved to leave the railways when my apprenticeship was completed.

By the time I was 20 these arrangements were nicely in hand. A job now waited for me with Mike, and my notice of termination had been sent in to the Railway. Then a cousin of mine decided to get married. Our family were invited, and so one fine Saturday, dressed in our best bib and tucker, we set off for the church.

According to tradition, we were put on the bride's side of the church. But as we had arrived early, I did not get to see who arrived later, and got put on the right of the aisle. So, when we reached the reception, I was rather surprised to see Jock and his wife were also present. Fortunately they were seated at another table for the meal, but afterwards, as the bride and groom led out the dancing, Betty quietly materialised by my side and motioned me to follow her.

This I did and we soon found ourselves in a side room. I was a bit disconcerted when I heard her lock the door, but slightly relieved when she proved to be carrying a bottle of red wine and two glasses. She set the glasses down on a table and filled them.

"I thought we had better have a talk before you left," she said, handing me a glass of wine.

"About Jock?" I asked, cautiously.

Well, she didn't look really dangerous, but women can get pretty mean when they think their man is being stolen.

"Yes. I wanted to thank you."

My eyebrows making a leap for my hairline must have given me away.

"No, I'm being serious. Jock came out of the Army after his National Service, with no job and no prospects. You got him moved from labourer up to Tech 5, and I believe he gets your job of Tech 1, when you go. Without you, he would still be a labourer," she said, sipping her wine.

It looked like I was going to get away with it, so I made some depreciating gesture and said, "Well, he was obviously wasted as a labourer, besides he is a very quick learner and you both needed the money."

"I think we both know just how quickly Jock learns, and how well you teach him," she said, with a smile.

Oh God! She knew, and I could feel my face lighting up like a stop sign.

"Oh please don't bother going red, we women are not fools you know, we notice very quickly when our man is getting it elsewhere."

"How long have you known?" I asked, a cold hand had just clutched my heart, and I'd swear it missed a beat.

"From the very beginning. You see, the moment he wasn't desperate to have sex with me, I knew he must be getting it elsewhere."

I made an involuntary whimpering sound.

"Don't look so worried, I don't blame you, or for that matter him. I was the stupid one, for listening to my mother."

"Huh?" was as much as I could manage, well, that and half of the glass of wine in a single gulp.

"She told me to ration sex, no wonder my father left home when he did. But I did as she told me and suddenly he was getting it with someone else. Naturally, my first thought was 'it's another woman'. But it wasn't costing him any money, and anyway, he never had the time to see a woman. Mind you, he kept on singing your praises, what a great guy you were, teaching him everything. Then, one day it dawned on me, he was screwing you!", she said, taking a healthy swig of her wine.

"And?" I asked, still playing my cards close to my chest.

"One night, when we were in bed, and he was going on about you, I asked him if the pair of you were at it. He said you were, so I asked why. Then he showed me why."

"He tied you to the bed..."

"...and raped me. Several times, as it happens. It was a new beginning for both of us. For the first time in our life together he was in charge and I couldn't stop him. The thing that surprised us both, was how much we enjoyed it. So I can thank you for that too."

We drained our glasses and she refilled us both.

"So, all this time Jock has known that you knew we were at it?"

She nodded and smiled. "I wouldn't let him tell you."

"Why?"

"Stolen fruit tastes sweetest. You much preferred it when you thought you were pinching from me. But, what you were really doing, was teaching a rather naïve lover a lot of rather sophisticated sexual techniques."

She smiled at me and sipped her wine.

"But I thought that you, well, you only did the missionary position..."

"Oh, I did, until you came along and put ideas into his head. Once he had me tied up, we went way beyond the basics. If you are anywhere near as good at teaching him electronics he must be an expert by now. There is only one thing that puzzles me."

"And that is?"

"How did someone as young as you learn it all?"

"Would you believe that I have a very fertile imagination?"

"I'll bet!"

"So, you are not mad at me?" I ventured.

"No, not really. His sex drive is much more than mine and you have been getting all the surplus. We'll both miss you. Oh, by the way, I'm going to visit my mum next Saturday and I'll be gone until Sunday night, the kids will be with me. It'll be your last chance together before you leave."

"You're giving him to me, for the NIGHT?"

"Yeah, I reckon you've earned it. Now we'd better get back to the party before people notice and begin to talk."

We returned to the party, and later I made plans to be away from home the following weekend. In fact it turned out to be a rather sad time. We made love slowly, knowing that it would be the last time we could enjoy each other's bodies. We went through every position we knew. I got him to sit on my face and rimmed him until my tongue was sore.

What happened next really caught me off guard. We were suddenly in a 69 and I felt my cock being enveloped by the wet warmth of his mouth. Naturally I got his weapon into my mouth as fast as I could, but he was on top and my hands were trapped. Using the advantage of his free hands as well as his tongue and lips he quickly brought me to the boil.

I realised that I was very close to blowing my load and I desperately tried to tell him what was going to happen. But his cock was quite effectively gagging me. I began to struggle to get out from under him, but he just used his body weight to subdue me. In the end I relaxed and went with the flow, enjoying the feeling of blasting my seed into his mouth. They are right y'know, it does feel good when you hear someone swallow your cum.

Some time later, when he had me tied to the bed and I had just swallowed his load, from that crazy position of him sitting on my chest, we paused. I looked up at him, his cock still in my mouth, and took in his sexy body.

Sometime after that he drifted off to sleep with me in his arms. I lay there in the dark and wondered what life would have been like if I had met him before he met Betty. Would I have spent every night being held against his hairy chest? The idea of having to keep him satisfied sexually by letting him fuck me every night appealed to me. That big, meaty cock inside me, rogering me and making me come, it would have been Heaven. Gradually my thoughts faded into dreams as I joined him in his slumbers.

Experienced as I might have been in the wiles of sex, this was the first time that I had ever spent the night with someone. It was strange to wake up in the middle of the night to find myself curled up in his arms and his cock, semi-hard, pressed into my belly. A real, live naked man, right next to me, ready to be taken, no foreplay, no groping, no clothes getting in the way, just ready to go!

It felt so good that I couldn't resist sliding gently down and taking him into my mouth. Once he was inside I tenderly pulled his foreskin back and ran my tongue over the naked head of his cock. It began to grow and harden in my mouth. I kept up my surreptitious attack on his manhood until his sleep became disturbed, then I paused and allowed him to drift off again.

I kept this up for quite a while until one time I left it a fraction too late. He woke from what seemed like a wet dream to find himself on the edge of an orgasm. As soon as he realised where his weapon was, he grabbed my head firmly and filled my mouth with his seed.

We slept late the next morning and lazily enjoyed each other's bodies before we rose. A late breakfast over and it was almost time for him to set off to the Station to pick up his family. We almost made it to the door, in fact we were just kissing goodbye, when we found that we were both undressing each other.

Our last fuck was doggy style, on the floor, directly behind his front door. Naked, he took me like I was a bitch in heat. That hard cock of his was back in my ass again. Pushing up into me, probing around, then he was mercilessly pounding my ass with it. Shoving my guts around to make room for himself. Since he had had so many orgasms in the last 24 hours, he was very slow to climax and I really got my money's worth that time.

When he finally shot his load inside me I felt, for the last time, that odd feeling of triumph over his cock. It slowly shrank inside my guts and I thought just how much of his seed must be in my body. Shit, there must be more of it in me, than there was still in him. Then we had to clean up and part. I will not try to lie, I'll admit it, I cried myself to sleep that night.

So, I wasn't exactly over the Moon when I set off south for my new job in computers. But, it was in a new city, with new men, and the wonderful time that I had with Jock slowly became just a memory.

Many years later, when I had a lover of my own, I met Jock and Betty. But by then their three kids were all grown up and had left home. Jock was a bit fatter, but I still fancied him. Apart from his little adventures with me, he had remained faithful to Betty. However, he confided to me, he still had to tie her up, from time to time.

The End

My thanks to Sue, who converted my scribbling into decent English.

Comments and Criticism may be directed to jamieanderson@compuserve.com