I've had lots of jobs in my time, paintin, diggin, pickin, scrubbin and the like, and even a good job or two where I just made sure everybody else worked. Easy come, easy go, that's how it is. This here lately's one of them go times, where you just ain't got nothing ta do, and any job's a good job.
It was lucky then that a buddy of mine put me on job up in hills of eastern Tennessee, said the pay was real regular and sometimes you got out early on Fridays. Hell, early Fridays always sounds good. Told him I'd consider it and, natrally, a couple days later I was knockin on his door.
Turns out not a whole lot to consider really, work's work.
'Gotta get you one of them urine tests,' he says, and he says urine likes it unnatural, cause we just say piss most of the time, 'part of contractin for the State. Fill out this paperwork and I'll run ya out there in the mornin, you can piss test, and then we'll git ya some work.'
Next mornin we're driving to some shitty little town so I can leak into a jar. My says to me, 'I'm goin drop you off and head to 7-11, back in a while.'
'Aight.'
Now, this is where the story starts to get interestin. He drops me off and gooses his old pickup, throwing gravel and shit everywhere. I turned round an walked into this shack, a fuckin shack right, not another buildin in sight. There's an old Mustang parked out front, mid 80s model with a big ass dent in the front fender. I'm figuring some worthless old fucks gonna be sittin behind a desk, reading an old magazine or something, probly ready to start poppin off bout big govement or tea parties or whatever.
I was dead wrong.
Instead the place inside was pretty decent, picked up and clean. The left corner of the shack had a door to what had ta be the pisser. On the right was a desk and behind it sat the youngest, prettiest little thing I done seen in quite a while. Now understand, I'm on the far side of 40, I consider myself seasoned, and any gal under the age of 25 with a big rack and pretty face I consider young and pretty, and this one behind the desk fit on both counts. She was wearin some kind of button up shirt and slacks, tryin to be professional I guess cept it looked like clothes you'd buy at Wal-Mart. To her credit she left a couple shirt buttons undone, enough to get your attention but not so much you'd think she was a slut.
It's kind of a fine line, most times these girls just hit slut mode an roll with it.
Anyway.
'Mornin,' I says, smilin a little bit and tucking my flannel shirt into my Wranglers. She looked up and worked her mouth, tryin to talk.
'H-H, h-Hello,' she finally said, when she got her throat to work.
'I'm here for the piss test.' She blushed a little when I said piss, like it was a dirty word or something. 'Beggin your pardon.'
She didn't say nothin, just turned around and reached down to the floor for a little plastic cup and some papers.
'Reckon that's your boyfriend, ain't it?' I was pointin at a picture on her desk.
'Yes sir, he is.'
'Good lookin boy.'
She evidently dittin wanna talk about nothin much but this piss test cause she was kinda short with me, not a word about the boyfriend or the picture but she just started right in on the particulars. Not that he was a boy, strictly speakin, I'm sure he was 20 years old, but that's half my age and in my book, that's a boy, but anyways she didn't give a shit about any of that, she just wanted to do her job.
'Sir, w-what the state requires is-is an observed c-catch urinalysis sample. That's what I d-d-do, for the Company. I oversee the s-s-sample collection program, to ensure the integrity of the p-p-p-process is not c-c-compromised in any way.' She's stutterin a little as she says it, like the words are new to her. I looked down and she's readin from a laminated paper, it's a scripted deal.
'Somebody's gonna watch me piss then,' I says to her.
She looks up from her little cheat sheet, don't smile or nod her head or nothin, just sits there and then says, 'This is my f-first day doing this by myself. I'm a little nervous.'
'That ain't on your script.'
She laughed at that one. Finally. I guess she's alright, nervous is all. I can deal with nervous.
'Well, I'm 'bout ready to pop, drank a bunch of coffee on way over. Where's the fella's gonna watch my do this?'
'Sir, I'm the observer,' she says, real timid like.
'Really?'
'Yes sir.'
I'm looking at her, and I kinda cock my head sideways, and all of a sudden I see her face go bout five different shades of pink. I don't know that she reckoned on cockgazing this early in the morning, especially watching a stream of piss from a grungy old fuck like me.
'Alright then, let's just go do this.' I'm walking to the pisser and she's following me like a dog, head hanging down. She ain't too keen on it I can tell, and to be honest with ya I don't that I was either. 'Y'all got a mirror or somethin in there?' I asked her. And then I opened the door.
No mirror. It was kind of cramped actually, sink left, commode center, and a stool to the right, all jammed in there. The stool was real close to the commode, like I'd splash on it if I pissed real hard after a few beers you know.
She closed the door behind us and locked it and put her papers and shit on the sink. She pulled out that script again and started readin.
'This is all standard procedure. First, I'm Becky Bulstrand, test proctor for the Company. Per state regulations, I'm required to observe a clean-catch urine sample, after which we'll seal and label the sample before sending it for testing. If you have to leave for any reason, prior to sealing and labeling, the sample will be considered void and a new one will have to be collected. Do you have any questions so far?'
'Yeah. You gonna sit on that stool there?'
'Yes, sir. I'm required to observe a clean-catch urine sample,' she said, all serious like. She peeked at the card to make sure she got it right.
'Well, I ain't got no more questions, but I ain't never pissed in front of a woman before.'
'Sir, it's natural to be nervous. Just pretend I'm not here and urinate as you normally would. Now, for clean-catch, first you have to clean the head of your p-p-penis—'
'First, I think I gotta pull down my drawers.' She started to color again when I said that. 'I'm just sayin.'
'Yes, sir. Of course. First, you can lo... low... lower your pants.' She coughed, put her hand over her mouth an tried to clear her throat, but somethin just seemed to catch back there.
'You alright?'
'Yes, sir. I'm fine, sir.'
'Okay then.' I grabbed one of them alcohol swabs and ripped the edge back and put it on the edge of the sink, cause I done a clean-catch sample before and I knew how to do it, just I never did it in front of nobody. 'You gotta watch all this?' I asked her as she sat down on the stool. She sat on the edge, back straight, like she was payin attention in class or something.
'Yes, sir. Now, if you'll just free your p-penis so I can observe as you clean...'
She stopped talking as my drawers and pants both fell to the floor. I didn't see no reason to stretch it out, just unbuttoned and pushed em both down at the same time. Junior, as I call him, kind of dangled, a little shriveled but long. Now this girl colored up real good, a bright red that went from her cheeks to her neck. She blinked a couple times and then a couple more. She kept on blinkin for a few minutes while I took the shaft in one hand and held it still and picked up the swab and wiped the head off before tossin the swab in the toilet.
'Now what?' I asked her, cock in hand. She looked down at the script for a while, tryin to focus on the words I think. Then she looked up at me real quick, and her pretty blue eyes was wide open and looked like little pictures of the sky. She blew out some air, the breath she'd been holdin for who knows how long. The breeze of it, over my hand, over Junior, caused me to start, you know, to get a little excited.
If you know what I mean.
'Ah.'
She looked down at the script for a long time, squeezin it real tight with both hands. For some reason, the longer she looked at the script, the more excited I got, the whiter her knuckles got from squeezing the script. I couldn't help it much. But it was like boilin water you know cause it took a little while, like ol Junior was just getting a little longer, then a little thicker, then kind of hangin to the side, all of it happenin real gradual like.
She looked up from the script in time to see it bout halfway up.
'Uh, gettin kind of swole here, know what I mean?'
'Yes, sir. This is, ah, not that unusual, sir.'
'Well I ain't no expert, but I'd say this is right damn unusual.' She got even redder this time, like she'd done been out in the sun for three days. I watched the color creep down her chest to where her shirt covered her boobs, right down into the part where she buttons it up, man she shore was red.
I let go myself, there bein no need to hold it no more, and Junior flicked out in front, hoverin a little. She looked up and her eyes was less than a foot away, on account of her leanin frontways on that stool of hers. She blinked again and licked her lips like she was either hungry or scared shitless.
I'll give her scared shitless.
By now it's ragin, my cock's jus gettin more and more swole. When she blinked again, I clenched up and pulled my groin tight, just a reflex you know. When a man gets hard he squeezes that spot deep down, bout three or four inches in front of his rectum, and flexes his manhood. It's natural, almost happens by itself, and when it does his cock, if it's hard, just stands up real straight and proud.
And that's what I was doing.
'Sir, if you'll just take the cup there. The cup, if you'll just. What I need is for you to, uh, take that cup. And start urinating. For a few seconds. And then move the cup in, midstream. To catch some, uh, some urine. Sir.'
'There just ain't no way I can piss like this,' I told her, and it was absolutely the truth.
'Sir?'
'Is there anything on that script of yours for a situation like this?' I asked her, staring down at the biggest boner I prolly ever had. Fucker hung there like it was waitin for something. I didn't really know what ta do so, you know, I just stood there with my hands hangin down.
