WEEKEND AT THE CAR WASH by K. Nitsua. Copyright 2001 by the author.
"I tell you it's true," Eddie insisted. We were sitting over beers in the Rainbow Cattle Company for the third successive weekend.
"I don't believe it," I replied. "You haven't even seen him with your own eyes. And I get the feeling Dwayne's not exactly a reliable witness." I liked Eddie a lot, and was hoping he felt the same about me. I'd been less impressed by some of his friends.
We continued to argue amid the smoke and hubbub of the bar.
"C'mon, Eddie, you've got to admit it's a little hard to believe," I said, as we headed out into the night some time later. "I've heard of cruising the bars, the baths and the tearooms, but--a car wash?"
"Look, if you go down there you'll see it's the perfect setup. It's in that new strip that they're just starting to develop between the Business-I and the Interstate. They put in the road for condos but they haven't gone up yet. This car wash is there, sitting by itself, woods all around. And it's twenty-four/seven.
"Anyway, Dwayne says this guy drives in late at night on weekends and washes his car in the far stall wearing only cutoffs or Speedos. If he sees anyone giving him the eye he gets naked. Pretty obvious what he's after."
"Guess so, if it's true," I conceded.
"Dwayne says he's cute."
I snorted. "Dwayne's standards are hardly Ivy League. More like open admissions."
"Okay, I've had enough," Eddie said, getting into his car.
"You don't want to come back with me?" I said, suddenly realizing I'd blown it.
"Funny thing, I'm just not in the mood to apply to Harvard tonight." He started the engine, then leaned toward me on the passenger side. "Besides, I don't have the right tools to pry open your tight ass. Later, buddy."
"Give me a break, Eddie," I protested, but he was already pulling out.
I watched him go. Okay, I'd been snooty about Dwayne. But getting naked at a car wash? What kind of guy would do such a thing? Probably an old, desperate troll. But maybe not.
I hated to admit it, but my curiosity had been aroused. As I stood there in the street, faced with going home alone, I found I'd made up my mind. I'd check the place out when I got a chance.
It was several days before that happened. I went one afternoon later that week after work, driving down the access road by the interstate, then swinging off onto the newly paved spur that as yet led mostly to nowhere. The car wash was on a small plot of land on the right, about a quarter of a mile in, halfway between the access road and the business thoroughfare the road eventually intersected. The sign on the pole was electric blue and white, and looked distinctly out of place standing in the middle what until recently had been woody, undeveloped land.
The car wash was ugly and utilitarian. It consisted of eight stalls made of cinder blocks set in the middle of a large paved lot, with the detergent dispensers, automatic hoses and other equipment installed on the left wall of each. A couple of giant vacuum cleaners were set up in back, against the wooden fence that went around the entire property, except for the entrance in front. That made this wash different from others I'd seen. From the street you couldn't tell whether any stall was occupied. You had to drive into the lot to see.
Someone could actually do what Dwayne claimed he'd seen him doing.
Eddie didn't call that week, and I didn't see him Friday night when I went by the bar. No great loss, I tried to tell myself, but I still felt bummed. Some of my other friends were there but hadn't seen him either. I left early, a little after eleven, and stood in the street. I knew what I wanted to do, but still briefly resisted doing it. Finally I gave in to my baser self and drove toward the interstate.
The harsh fluorescent lights of the car wash glared at the side of the otherwise dark road. I pulled into the lot and saw that, contrary to what I had thought, this wasn't a totally unpopular time to wash a car. At least three of the stalls were occupied. All of the owners were fully clothed and appeared engaged in their legitimate business. None were particularly attractive.
This was sure turning out to be a dull Friday night. I thought about leaving, but I wasn't quite ready to give up and go home just yet. My own little Honda was pretty grimy. I drove into one of the unoccupied stalls and dug into the ashtray for loose change. Finding enough money to get things started, I went to work. It wasn't long before I was busily soaping, rinsing and scrubbing my vehicle, trying to keep ahead of the numbers on the digital timer counting down the seconds. It was like a game--I had to really hoof it, and barely managed to finish rinsing everything off before I heard the beep indicating the end of my time. I stood, holding the dripping hose, panting from my exertions. Though the night air was cool, I felt hot, and there were wet patches on my shirt from accidentally hitting myself with the spray from the hose. Washing the car naked wasn't such a bad idea when it came right down to it.
The thought made me remember why I had come out here. Hanging up the hose on the wall hook, I walked to the end of the stall I was in and looked out to both sides. I was in the fifth furthest stall away from the entrance. I strolled down past the first four--they were now empty. I raised my head and listened, and caught the sound of spraying water and other activity at the far end. Someone seemed to be in the very last stall. My curiosity was aroused. If you were going to cruise the car wash, that was the best place to go--plenty of time to hear another car coming into the lot and down the row.
There was a grassy strip that went all the way around between the asphalt and the tall wooden fence. I began to walk down the row of stalls toward the end, keeping close to the edge of the paved lot, near the grass. Here the lights were not quite so penetrating and there were pools of shadow.
I kept walking forward until the last stall and its occupant came into view. The vehicle was parked so that its front was facing me--the owner must have driven it in from behind the stall. It was a large car, one of those late-model gas guzzlers from the seventies, shiny and well-maintained despite its age.
The man washing it was as busy as I had been and didn't see me at first. He was tall, his body slender, his chest and stomach hard and smooth. In fact, he was smooth all over--it was easy to tell under the stall lights, since he was wearing a baseball cap, thongs on his feet and a pair of short, snug denim cutoffs, and that was it.
Looking more closely, I saw an appetizing sight. The dark tip of what was clearly a substantial cock nestled next to his thigh, peeking out of one leg of his shorts. This had to be the man Dwayne was talking about. He had been right, I admitted to myself--this guy was far from unattractive.
At that moment the driver in the stall raised his head and caught sight of me, standing in the shadows. He gave me a long, frank stare. I felt the heat rise in my own body and travel down to my crotch. My own cock stiffened in my pants, and almost unconsciously, I cupped it in my right hand.
The man continued brandishing the hose, casually rinsing off the soap on his car, every so often casting another glance in my direction. I saw that his cock had grown and part of the shaft was now exposed. I stood, rubbing myself, letting him know I was interested and waiting.
Finally, the timer beeped and the stream from the hose dribbled to a halt. The man in the stall hung it up and turned toward the driver side of his car. He opened the door as if to get in, and I sighed with disappointment. Was this guy just a cocktease, getting his thrills by seeing other men lusting after him?
Just then, the driver turned to face me, his body partially hidden by the open door, his feet visible underneath. A smile slowly spread across his lean face. I saw his shorts drop to the ground around his ankles.
No one else was around now. I walked rapidly forward and around the open door of the car. He stood, naked, his cock semihard, rising from dark blond pubic hair. I closed my right fist around it, a satisfying handful, and looked him in the eye for the first time.
Neither of us said a word as I stroked him to full erection. I opened my mouth, letting him see the tip of my tongue, and he nodded. I knelt, grasping his thighs, and began to suck, hard and intensely, moving my head back and forth, tasting the salty precum from his slit as it flowed into my mouth.
The other man remained silent, but I heard his breathing quicken and deepen. He grasped the sides of my head and began to fuck my face, the cock banging the back of my throat. Between thrusts I quickly gasped in air, trying not to choke on this faceful of sex flesh. My hands roved to his hard, narrow butt, the muscles working as he continued to thrust into my mouth.
"Nice," he whispered.
I needed a break, so I managed to extricate myself and began to lick his veined shaft with long strokes of my tongue. I washed his balls while I jacked him off with one hand. Soon, though, his hand pressed urgently at the back of my head.
"Take it."
Obediently I let him slide back into my mouth. He began to thrust with renewed urgency, so that I had to grip his buttocks hard to keep my balance. My eyes began to water but I stayed with him, thrilled by his need. Low sounds began to rise from his body.
"Going to cum."
"Mm hmm," I said, indicating my assent. He thrust still harder, and I felt his cock come to life in my mouth, the first hot spurts hitting the back of my throat. I swallowed quickly as the flood filled my mouth. Some of the fluid ran out and down my chin. I heard his gasps above me--casting a quick glance upward, I saw that his head was thrown back, his mouth open, his eyes closed in ecstasy.
His thrusts began to slow and he released his grip on my head, letting his breath go in a heaving sigh. I kept his softening cock in my mouth, taking as much of the load as I could, cleaning it with my tongue. Finally I released him, wiped my chin with my hand and looked up. He was smiling down at me.
Before either of us could say anything we heard the sound of a car turning into the wash entrance. I stood quickly as he pulled up his shorts, moving away to what I hoped was a innocent distance--two buddies just having a casual chat at the car wash, in the wee hours of what was now Saturday morning.
Fortunately the car turned into one of the first stalls. I turned back to him. He smiled. "Thanks," he said. Now that I was able to look at him at leisure, I saw that he was older than I was--maybe in his late thirties, early forties. No matter--he was fine.
I reached out and grasped his package through the denim. "Thank you. Hot man. Hot cock."
He chuckled. "You're good for my ego."
"I'm serious. I want some more of this."
He shook his head. "Not tonight. I'm afraid I'm not quite the stud horse I used to be." A roguish look appeared on his face. "What are you doing tomorrow night?"
I laughed. "You've got to have the cleanest car in town. Tell you what, it's a date--on one condition."
"What's that?"
"I'll bring a rubber."
He laughed. "Straightforward guy. I like that. Okay, deal. A little after midnight?"
Almost precisely twenty-four hours later I drove back down the darkened turnoff, my mouth dry with excitement and nerves. I wore very little clothing--old Nikes, a loose pair of nylon gym shorts and a T-shirt. I remembered the hot encounter the previous evening and hoped my car wash man would be there to give me what I needed.
I turned into the parking lot and immediately headed for the last stall. He was there, all right, in the same old car. He must have washed it again, as the concrete floor of the stall was wet, but he wasn't doing it now, just sitting in the front seat. He wasn't wearing his ball cap tonight and I saw that his hair was thinning. Somehow this made him seem sexier.
He saw me and waved, his lean, square-jawed face breaking into a smile.
I didn't really feel like going through the pretense of washing my car again, so I simply parked near the grass, got out and walked toward his car. The driver's side window was open. He had one arm propped outside and I saw that his shoulders were bare. I reached the window. "Hey," I said, looking inside, then stopped short.
He was stark naked on the front seat, stroking his cock and grinning at my reaction.
"You washed the car like that?" I managed.
"Nope, in my bike shorts. Got done, decided to get a little more comfortable while I waited for you." He reached out and grasped one of my forearms, stroking the hair on it with his thumb. This simple gesture sent a thrill through me. "I'm glad you came," he said.
I was struck by his sincerity. "Sure," I said. "Why wouldn't I have come?"
"Lots of guys wouldn't have," he said simply. It occurred to me that he was probably right--after all, we weren't friends or anything, just two men with raging hormones. We didn't even know each other's names.
"Well, I'm here."
He looked at my swelling crotch. "Looking good too. Let me put these on before I get out. I may be an exhibitionist, but I'm not stupid."
After struggling for a bit in the front seat to get the shorts on over his long legs, he opened the door and stood up. "Follow me." He shut the car door and started toward the fence at the back of the lot. I watched his butt muscles working in the elastic cloth as I walked after him.
He got to the fence. I saw that one of the vertical slats had been removed and was resting on the ground. He lifted the board, revealing a narrow opening. Standing to one side, he held the board up and gestured to me with his head. I stepped through and he followed, being careful to set the loose board back in front of the gap, so that we were hidden from view.
We were directly behind the wash, in an open field that turned into woods a short distance behind us. We turned to each other in the dim light, our breathing quickening. He reached forward and pulled me into his arms. The next moment I felt his lips press against mine, his tongue flicking into my mouth. I kissed him back, my hands sliding down his back and underneath the waistband of his shorts, pushing them down his thighs. He pulled my T-shirt up, breaking the kiss and running his tongue over my bare chest and stomach, tickling my navel, then taking one of my nipples into his mouth. I moaned softly.
"Damn, you're hot," he said.
"So are you," I replied.
He kissed me again, pushing me against the fence. "Got that rubber?"
I took it out of my pocket and handed it to him, then unfastened my shorts and let them fall. My hard cock sprang free. He knelt and sucked on it for a few moments, then stood up and tore the package open. He unrolled the condom over his jutting pole and put his hands on my waist, urging me to turn around. I obeyed, bending at the waist and placing my hands against the rough wood of the fence.
His finger probed my ass, feeling the lube I had applied before leaving the house tonight. I then felt something bigger and blunter against my hole, seeking entry. The next moment searing heat and fullness hit as his cock penetrated me. I bit my lip to stifle a cry of pain, gritting my teeth and waiting for it to pass. He sensed my distress and waited a few moments before he pushed in further. I felt myself opening under the relentless pressure, until his full length was inside me and his pubes were pressing on my butt.
He began to move then, sliding back and forth, at first slowly, then faster and faster until he was plowing my ass at a brutal pace. I knew how to take it, though, and was loving every moment.
"Fuck me."
"You got it, stud," he said, reaching underneath and taking hold of my hard cock. He began to stroke it in rhythm with his thrusts. I couldn't hold out for long against this double whammy. In a few moments I began to gasp harshly as I filled his hand with my hot seed. I heard his ragged breathing as well and knew that he was emptying his own load into the rubber deep in my bowels.
He brought his hand, filled with my cum, up to my mouth, inviting me to lick it up. I obliged, but before I was finished he spread his fingers and smeared the rest over my face, a deliciously nasty move. He pulled out then, and turned me around with an urgent pressure of his hands. Once more his face descended on mine, his tongue shooting out and licking the jizz he had rubbed on me off my forehead and cheeks. Then he pressed his mouth once more to mine and fed me the rest of my own load, mixed with his saliva.
He backed me against the fence and leaned his full weight on me, his head resting on my shoulder. We stood there, our chests heaving, our pants down around our ankles, my T-shirt pulled up to my armpits, both of us stinking of sweat and cum.
At last he spoke. "Damn."
I chuckled. "Agreed."
He raised his head and looked at me. "What's your name, anyway?"
"Troy."
"Troy, I'm Jim. I've been here quite a few weekends, but I've never met anyone like you."
I looked at him. "Never knew anyone who cruised a car wash. Got to give you points for originality."
He chuckled. "Funny guy. I live near here. Want to follow me home and have a beer?"
I kissed him lightly, then bent to pull up my shorts. "That'd be nice, thanks. Beats the bar for sure," I said, smoothing down my T-shirt.
"Who needs all that smoke and bullshit," Jim said, pulling off the rubber, dressing himself in turn and pushing at the loose board through the gap in the fence. He stepped through first, then turned and offered his hand to me. I grinned, shaking my head, and took it, completely won over by this courtly gesture in the oddest of surroundings. He continued to hold my hand in the darkness as we walked back toward our cars.
It was weeks before I went back to the bar, and when I did, I ran into Eddie. He was volubly glad to see me, and openly curious about where I'd been. I didn't enlighten him.
I did sit and talk to him for a while, just to be polite. "By the way," I said at one point, "Remember that car wash we were talking about? I checked it out."
"You did? Anything happen?"
"Nah. I saw the guy Dwayne was talking about though. Nothing special," I said, suppressing a smile.
"Figures. Dwayne says he hasn't seen him in weeks anyway. Guess he gave up."
"Guess so." I got up.
"Hey, where you going, buddy?"
I paused and looked at him. "Eddie, you know what you said about Harvard? Well, you were right. I relaxed my admission standards."
I left then, leaving him looking slack-jawed after me. I left the bar and walked down the street to my Honda, sitting there waxed and spiffy next to the curb. I got in, started the engine, and headed for Jim's place.
I'm such a lucky guy, really. My boyfriend is sweet, cute, hung, and handy with a hose. What more could a man want?
END