Full Service

I'm in my third year of studies at a university in New England. The money I receive from scholarships is a great help in financing my education, but it doesn't cover everything. To make ends meet, I work the night shift at a gas station near the campus. It's a very easy job involving little more than taking the customers' money or charging their credit cards. Since the owner recently installed pumps that accept credit cards, I have almost nothing to do and serve as little more than a night watchman.

It's the perfect job for me because it allows me plenty of study time. When I'm caught up on my studies, I generally pull out a fuck book, ogle the pictures, and jack off under the counter. I have even shot loads with customers pumping gas a few feet away! The adrenaline rushes were awesome! Late one night with no customers in sight, I was drooling over some imaginative fuck pictures and stroking my eight-inch cock under the counter when a very expensive foreign car pulled into the only full-service bay. I was surprised because the bay is rarely used, especially at that hour. I had even suggested to the boss that he make it self serve. If he had, I might not be telling this story.

Cursing under my breath, I stuffed my rigid cock back in my pants and tried to think away my hard-on. It softened somewhat and I made my way to the car where a distinguished-looking old man patiently waited. He was probably in his seventies, with well-groomed silver hair, a golden tan, and bright blue eyes. He was well-dressed in an expensive suit and silk tie. He quickly shifted his eyes when I caught him staring at the bulge that lingered in my crotch.

When I had filled his tank, I turned to him and asked for a credit card. Instead of a card, he handed me two twenties. I was very surprised that someone like him would pay in cash. I realize now that it was because he did not want to reveal his identity; you will soon understand why. It's against the station's policy to accept cash at night when only one attendant is on duty and signs are clearly posted to that effect. When I told him I couldn't make change, he winked and said, "That's all right, young man, you keep the change."

He asked if he could use the restroom, but instead of walking in the direction I pointed, he followed me into the station. I figured he was gay and meant to hit on me. I was prepared to politely decline any offer. I was plenty horny, but not desperate enough for a blowjob from an old man. "Young man, I have a proposition for you," he said.

"Here it comes," I thought. Thinking that he wanted to suck my dick on the leather back seat of his fancy car, I opened my mouth to say I wasn't interested. But before I could get the words out, he made me an offer I couldn't refuse. "I'm too old to waste my precious time on small talk, so I will get right to the point. My wife is waiting for me in the car. She is ovulating and I would very much like to impregnate her tonight so that I have an heir. However, at my age, I require a great deal of stimulation to make that possible. Pornography no longer works for me as it does for you." I had forgotten about the fuck book that I had carelessly left on the counter. He was clearly amused by my embarrassment.

"Even live sex shows don't work anymore unless my wife participates," he continued. "I especially enjoy watching her suck the penises of young men like yourself. I'll pay you a hundred dollars. I will only watch, nothing more." He nodded at the bulge in my pants and said, "You obviously could use the service." I was dumbfounded. I had never had such a proposition made to me and didn't know how to respond. He took my hesitation as indifference. "Oh, but of course, you will want to see her before you make your decision. How foolish of me not to think of it sooner."

I followed him to the car. He tapped on the window and it came sliding down. His trophy wife was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. I hadn't noticed her before because of the tinted windows. She stared straight ahead, completely ignoring me. Short, curly black hair framed a face reminiscent of a young Elizabeth Taylor. She had a dog collar cinched around her neck with a leash attached to it and was clad in a black leather dress so low-cut that it seemed to be held up only by her nipples.

"Is this all right with you, ma'am?" I asked, and then felt like a country bumpkin for addressing her as ma'am. Her nod was almost imperceptible. "I would prefer that you didn't speak to her," the old man admonished. "This must be very impersonal, purely physical."

I pinched myself to be sure I wasn't dreaming. "Sure, I'll do it," I said. What all-American boy would pass up a deal like that? Assuming that the deed would be done in the car, I reached for the door. "Is there someplace inside?" the old man asked.

After glancing around to make sure no one was nearby, he opened the front door and told the woman to get out. That's when I noticed that her arms were manacled behind her back. He took the leash and led her toward the station. I followed behind, ogling the woman's round, leather-clad ass. The short dress was so tight that I could see the flesh jiggle as she walked. After locking the door, I directed them to a small employee lunchroom. If any customers showed up, the video monitor installed for that purpose would alert me.

The leather dress had a zipper running down the front. The old man pulled it down to her navel and her beautiful pear-shaped tits came spilling out. "These are the real thing," he said, fondling them roughly. "Stick them out, bitch," he said. She arched her back as if offering me her tits. "Go ahead, feel them," he urged. I took a tit in each hand. Damn, they were nice! I can almost feel them now. I flicked the protruding nipples with my thumbs. "Go ahead and suck them if you like. If you can make her horny, all the better. She'll do a better job on you." I bent down and sucked her nipples until they doubled in size.

The man peeled her like a banana, pulling the zipper all the way down and letting the leather dress to fall to the floor. She stood naked except for a tiny leather bikini. He yanked it down and roughly fondled her pussy. "Go ahead and feel her pussy, if you like," he offered. I had never felt a shaved pussy before. Without the hair to interfere, I had my first really good feel of a pussy. She stared straight ahead, giving no sign of either revulsion or pleasure at having a stranger's fingers exploring her cunt. Then I thought I detected a subtle increase in her breathing rate. "Would it be all right if I licked it just a little?" I asked, determined to get a rise out of her. He told me to help myself. I knelt and stared at the prettiest pussy I had ever seen. I ran my tongue up the slit and swirled it around her prominent clit. I could have kept my mouth glued to that wonder of nature for hours, but the old man soon told me to stop. One last pass up her slot convinced me that not all of the wetness there had come from my tongue.

"All right, let's get on with it," the old man said. "Remove everything except your shoes and socks." This was a man accustomed to giving orders and because I was accustomed to taking them, I promptly dropped my pants. Playing with her had given me an eight-inch hard-on. Freed from its restraints, it snapped upward nearly to my belly. The old man leered at my cock. "Very nice. I'm glad you're well-endowed. It will make this more exciting."

"Get on your knees, bitch," he ordered. "You had better do a good job, or you know what you'll get at home." After she knelt in front of me, the man passed the leash from one hand to the other between my legs and began to pull it. The leash slid up my thigh until it was in the crack between my balls and leg. As he pulled, her head was drawn toward my cock. They were going through the motions of what was obviously a ritual. They were definitely not making it up as they went along.

Her warm, wet mouth closed over my turgid cock. He pulled on the leash until my cock met her throat, then slackened it and said in a hoarse whisper, "Now suck him off." When I gazed down at my beautiful fellatrix, I could hardly believe my eyes. She was like something from the pages of Playboy or Penthouse. I kept my eyes glued to the action, hoping to burn it so deeply into my memory that I could jack off to the mental replays a thousand times. She twisted and turned her head, sucked hard then soft, shallow then deep. She knew every suck trick in the book!

The old man reached inside his expensive suit and pulled out a slender camera, which I recognized as a digital camera. He snapped pictures of his wife blowing me, then he set the camera aside and unzipped his fly. He fished out an enormous cock and a pair of slack, fuzzy balls and began playing with them. "Yes, it's working, it's working!" he said. A broad smile lit up his face. He took pictures of his cock as it slowly stiffened.

Ten minutes passed and the spasms of my asshole were getting closer together, a sure indication that I was losing control. I don't know how I managed to last as long as I did. She sucked my cock better than anyone had ever sucked it before. Even the blowjob I had had from a hooker a week earlier could not compare. The old man noticed that I was teetering on the edge. "When you cum, take it out and shoot it in her face so I can see it," he said. "Don't worry, she'll keep her mouth wide open so you can shoot some into it."

"HERE IT COMES!" I shouted. I pulled my cock from her mouth and stepped back until my cum-cannon was about a foot from her beautiful face. The old man dropped the leash and reached forward to take her head in both hands. He roughly grabbed a handful of hair with one hand and her chin with the other, forced her mouth open and ordered her to stick out her tongue. I aimed my cock at the red bulls-eye and shot a thick rope of cum that bounced off her tongue and disappeared into her throat. "BEAUTIFUL!" the elated man shouted. The second spurt went astray and splashed against her forehead. She grimaced as the next one hit the tip of her nose and shattered into a thousand droplets. The old man said "beautiful" with every spurt, even the ones that hit his hands. He must have said it ten times.

He told me to stick my dick back in so she could drain it completely. She gulped most of my cock, pressed her tongue hard up against the shaft, and pulled off slowly, coaxing out the last few drops of essence. As her tight lips passed over the ultra-sensitive nerves in the throat of my cock, mini-convulsions rippled up my body. The old man turned her head toward him and admired my handiwork. "Very nicely done, young man," he said. He picked up the camera and took several pictures of his wife's cum-spattered face. Then he turned the camera downward and took pictures of his cock, which was around a foot long by then.

He held his huge cock at the base and waggled it around. It was still a little on the floppy side. "It's not good enough," he said. "I need a little more stimulation. You will have to fuck her. Put this on and get it in her before you go soft." He handed me a rubber, and as I tried with trembling hands to get it over my still-twitching dick, he bent her over the lunch table, stuck his fingers in her pussy and twisted them around. They came out glistening with her juices. "She's ready, stick it in there."

I drove my rubber-sheathed cock in and pumped furiously to keep it from going soft. I had never fucked a woman whose wrists were manacled behind her back; I confess that it turned me on and helped keep me hard. The old man stood beside us, a broad grin on his face. "Yes, that's it, young man, fuck her hard. That's the way I like to see it done." He was pumping his cock, which by then was twice the size of mine. Five minutes or so into the fuck, the walls of her pussy clenched my cock a dozen times in succession. I am sure that it was an orgasm that she managed to conceal from her husband. The outward signs that tipped me off were her red face, flared nostrils and sweaty forehead which he couldn't see because her head was turned away from him.

I fucked that beauty for fifteen or twenty minutes before I felt the warning tickle between my nuts and asshole. "I think I'm going to cum," I said. But the old man had lost control and would spoil it for me. "Get out of my way, GET OUT OF MY WAY!" he said as he grabbed my shoulder and shook it. "MOVE! NOW! I'M GOING TO PLANT MY SEEDS. YOU CAN FINISH IN HER MOUTH." That was all the incentive I needed and I pulled out with a wet plop. I shucked the rubber as I hurried around to her pretty head. My cock plunged into her mouth just as it began to shoot. Holding her curly head in both hands, I fed her spurt after spurt of my special sauce. I was extremely pleased that the old man had offered me that option, which, if given a choice, I would have taken anyway.

At the other end, the old man shoved his thick cock into her so hard that her flared nostrils blew a burst of warm air on my cock. "Plant those seeds deep, plant 'em deep," he whispered to himself. He pushed until he couldn't get any more dick in her, then his teeth chattered and his eyes rolled back in his head. Shudders ran up his body and a long moan escaped between his bared, clenched teeth. His orgasmic throes were so strong that I feared he might have a heart attack. Thankfully, that didn't happen. Before he pulled his dick out, he picked up his camera and took a few pictures of it sticking in her. He took a rubber ball about the same circumference as his cock out of his pocket, and as his dick slid out, he pushed the ball as far into her as his finger could drive it. He quickly pulled the leather bikini up her legs and drew it up as snug as he could make it. "That will keep the sperm in there," he explained. "It felt like an ample load, thanks to you, young man," he said with a slap on my back.

He removed the manacles from his young wife's wrists and the dog collar from her pretty throat. Spotting a towel dispenser on the wall, he ripped out a handful of towels and handed them to her. "Get yourself cleaned up, darling," he said. Now that it was over, the tone of his voice was almost contrite. Perhaps he felt a twinge of self-loathing that such drastic measures were needed just so he could cut the mustard. She wiped my cum off her face and the tops of her round tits where a lot of it had dripped.

"You did a commendable job, young man," he said as he handed me another crisp hundred-dollar bill. "And if I succeeded in putting a bun in the oven, there will be a thousand in it for you, I promise you that." I never heard from him, so I assume that he either reneged on his promise or went through the insemination ritual again with another lucky night attendant. Late at night, when I feel that I am the only person in the city who is not in a warm bed, stroking my cock to pass the time, I glance toward the full-service bay, hoping to see a big, shiny black car pull up to the pump.