Gay Mechanic: Can a gay man be a tradie Read online

  “Motor mechanic I think, you have the build for it, husky, muscular, you’d look good stripped to the waist, sweat pouring off you, grease smeared over your upper torso. Oh man, I’m getting hot just thinking about it. Know just the guy you should talk to. Joe, runs a workshop in Parramatta Park, and is an instructor here too. Oh, by the way, he’s gay. Come into the office and I’ll phone him.” We finished our coffee, and went back into the office. It was cool inside after the Cairns sun and humidity. He rang the workshop he had mentioned, and came back with a big smile on his face. “He wants to meet you in about an hour at the workshop. Here’s the address.” I thanked him, and turned to leave. “Want to go clubbing tonight? Club Trix is a great place.”

  “Yeah, I’d like that, what time?”

  “Meet you at the Coffee Club on the Esplanade at around 9.” With that said, I left and walked to the car park, where I had parked mums car, a 98 Commodore. I had a couple of dollars in my savings account, and decided I needed to buy a shirt for tonight, so headed for Cairns Central. The shirt had to be clubby, but not over done: Not too gay. It had to be tight fitting, to show off my pectorals and abbs, allowing them to fill the fabric but not burst out. I had about 40 minutes before I had to meet Joe. I parked on the roof near Coles, and took the escalator down to the ground floor where most of the clothing stores were. After looking at countless stores and umpteen dozen shirts, I finally found the shirt I wanted in Rodger David. It was a black net shirt, stretchy and very see-through. I bought a necklet also in black, beige and white beads. It looked great with the shirt.

  I just made my appointment with Joe. Joe was a tall muscular guy, about 6’4”, a shock of black greasy hair, dressed in navy work shorts and short sleeve work shirt, footy socks and black steel cap boots. He was about mid 30’s, around Mitch’s age I guessed. He was pretty good looking even when he was covered in sweat and grease. Actually my groin said he was hot, so always believe your groin. The garage was not small, but not overly big, able to hold about 12 cars, 2 vehicle hoists, and tools spread around the walls. Plenty of cabinets, and oil and lube gear spread around. Joe was working on a 72 XA Falcon when I arrived, and when he saw me standing there in my jeans and stretched polo shirt, biceps straining at the armbands, he whistled.

  “Well Paul was not wrong. You sure have got a great body lad. Wait up, and I’ll just wash up.” He walked off to a door in the far corner, and I decided to follow him in, knowing Paul had obviously given me a good rap to Joe. Joe was just lathering up his hands when I walked in; the door almost pushing him over, as the washroom was very small, with a basin and a toilet in one corner.

  “Couldn’t wait hey? Don’t blame you, got to get it when you can lad. Never be backwards in coming forwards is my motto. I can see we shall get on real good.” He finished washing his hands, and dried them on some rags from a bin under the basin. He turned to me, looked real close, and seeing no fear in my eyes, he moved his body up against mine. I could smell him, his honest sweat, his male musky odour; the grease of today’s labours, oil and fuel filled my nostrils. My senses were being driven to ecstasy and I could not resist any longer. I grabbed him by the back of the head, and pulled him onto my lips, wanting to taste him, revel in his odours, taste the fuel and grease on his lips, his mouth; his smoky fetid breath. My tongue started to explore his mouth and tongue, and he responded quickly with his own tongue. We were quickly feeling each others body, his hand firmly on my crutch as it swelled to its full size in its confines, me his big muscular back and tight well defined buttocks. Our passions grew, and we started to strip each other’s clothing gradually as we could get to items while not breaking the momentum of our passions.

  My polo came off first, while I struggled to undo his buttons on his work shirt, His shorts were easy, and slid down his huge muscular thighs revealing the skimpiest pair of navy blue jocks I had ever seen, They barely covered his monstrous cock, its head poking just over the waistband as it grew second by second in response to our passions. Being shorts, Joe was able to kick them off over his boots, but as my jeans fell to my ankles, it was obvious they were going to stay where they were, as neither of us was going to break our embrace or fondling to remove my sneakers. Joe dropped down and started to lick my balls and sac, his tongue probing the area between my ass and my ball sac sending tingling sensations through my whole body. My hands were on his muscular shoulders, as my back arched with every movement of his tongue. I could feel my dick wanting to burst forth, but I tried mentally to hold back, and after a short while, found the pressure to ejaculate had eased. I was learning to enjoy and hold at last. I wanted this to go on forever. He moved to my back, and his tongue then moved to my ass, I could feel his tongue licking the whole area, probing my sphincter, trying to push his tongue inside my ass, then I felt it give, and his tongue entered, oh what pleasure had he found for me. I wanted him to keep going, push his tongue all the way in, his nose, his face his head, I would let him do anything, I was in a pleasure palace all of my own. But, alas, he removed his tongue, but then I felt him slap some liquid or grease on my ass, and felt his fingers slide inside me, first one, then two and then three. My ass was hurting like hell, and I wanted them out, but I said nothing, wanting him also to violate me in any way he wanted too. This gorgeous hunk of a man, this demi-god, this rapist, I had to have him inside me now.

  He left his 3 fingers inside me for several minutes, still and gentle, waiting for my ass to stop its spasm, and settle down, accepting the violation of its inner sanctum. When I eventually relaxed, he started to massage my prostrate, and my cock started to stiffen once again, and I could feel it wanting to cum, but concentrated again in holding it back. Joe played with me for several minutes, and I was comfortable with his fingers in my ass, when suddenly he removed them, and then quickly shoved his cock head in the rectum. I gasped loudly, not expecting the pain and pressure. It felt like a red-hot steel rod had just been shoved up my ass, but Joe did not push it any further, holding the cock head till my rectum relaxed once again. It took only a few minutes to settle, and I could feel Joe gently sliding his cock into my ass a bit at a time, sliding it out, then in again, only a little more each time. It started to feel good, and I started to moan that satisfied moan, when you anticipate pleasure and pain, and wanting both.

  He finally pushed all the way in. his cock was big, but he was gentle at first, and I became comfortable with him in me. The warmth of his cock inside me: The feeling of being bonded; being one. I felt his huge ball sac slap gently on my ass cheeks, as he slowly started to work his cock inside me, slowly and deliberately, building his rhythm, driving his cock further and further inside me till his rhythm was with mine; my hips moving to his, my thoughts only of this beautiful man inside me. I had dreamt of this many times; pulled myself off to the pictures in the ‘Muscle’ magazine; wanting those muscular men to drag me down and rape me. His pace became more insistent, and rougher, his rough grease stained workman hands rubbing all over my groin and cock, over my belly and chest, then back to my cock. I could feel his body tensing, small muscles in his groin and thighs stiffen then start to tremble, and then realised my own cock was going to explode, but I cared no more, and allowed myself to pour out my juices as he started to cum inside me. His breathing was heavy and I could smell his sex all over me, as his body poured his sweat out all over my back and buttocks. We were both a lather of sweat, causing a squelching sound between our bodies, as Joe continued to pump every last drop of sperm into my ass. His body slowed, and his head lowered onto my shoulder. He laid his head there for a while, before whispering in my ear

  “You’d better come work for me lad, ‘cause this ass now belongs to me. I’ve marked my territory and you belong to me for the next 4 years, lock stock and tight little ass.” He remained in my ass, holding me tight, head on my shoulder, his cock still hard and warm inside me. Being my first anal penetration, I noticed some blood on the floor, just small drops, but enough to worry me, but I did not want him to pull out eithe
r. The warmth of his cock inside me, his body up close, his heavy breathing on my neck, was all in my fantasy man; my masturbation fantasy. I felt his cock begin to soften, and he then pulled out. He grabbed some rags from the bin under the basin, and threw them to me.

  “Wipe yourself down lad, and while you’re at it, clean my cock.” I wiped my ass and cock, and went to wipe his cock with the rag too. “Not with the rag” he bellowed, “With you tongue slave” I looked at him, not knowing what to do. I had never sucked a cock, let alone one that had been up my ass.

  “Get down slave and suck that cock.” His tone made me drop to my knees instantly, and I placed my mouth over his cock. I could smell and taste my ass and his cum, but I was so scared of him at that moment, I never even considered saying no, and just sucked the cock. I found I actually liked it after a while, and started to lick the head, then the shaft, moving down to the balls and sac. “Clean it good slave, I don’t want any of your shit on my dick when you’re finished, you got that?” I nodded in the affirmative, not able to speak having my mouth full of this wondrous cock. I was enjoying it now, the smell of my ass and his cum was actually pleasant and exciting, and I found my cock starting to quiver with excitement again. But it was short lived, as he placed his steel-toed boot on my balls that were hanging on the concrete floor of the washroom while I was sucking his cock. The pain was excruciating, and I began to scream, but he shouted out for me to close my mouth and continue to clean his cock. I was more scared of him than the pain I was feeling, so obeyed instantly, and found my cock had softened. He then pulled my head off his cock, pulled me up, and started to kiss me again. This time less passionately, but still with a bond we had developed that day. But his kiss also said that he controlled me, not the other way, and I was now his to do with as he wished, and I knew now this was what I wanted and what I had been missing all my adolescent life.

  My apprenticeship begins

  Joe had some apprentice application forms in his office; a left over from another guy who decided Joe was not the employer he wanted. We filled them out, and I said I would take them over to the Apprenticeship Board, and the TAFE. Joe decided I was to start work the next day, even though my motor mechanics course would not start for 2 months. I said I would see him the next day, and he leaned over and kissed me before I got up from the office desk and left the workshop for my car. Now I had to go shopping all over again, only I had no money, so I rang mum, and she said she would get dressed and I was to pick her up at home, and they would look for some work clothes for me. All the way home, I wondered if mum would smell the sex on me. The smell of Joe, the grease and fuel, the ass juice and body odour from the torrid sex I had just had. I should have known mum would smell it, for as soon as I walked in the house she started into me.

  “Did you have a shower this morning? You smell of body odour. Get upstairs and have a shower. You are not going out shopping for clothes smelling like a pole cat.” I quickly raced up stairs, sorry that I had to wash away the smell of Joe on me; sorry I had to wash the odours of our sex. It was something I will always remember; the smell of my first sexual encounter, and the thought sent my senses into overdrive. I had to pull myself off in the shower, just thinking of the sex I had encountered. I was happy; real happy for the first time I could remember as an adult; an adult gay man, sexually driven to sex with men; burly, husky, odorous men. Hairy, muscular, callused-handed workmen; something I hoped and wanted to be myself one day. I was a gay man, yes; but not feminine. I was a man in every respect. A man’s man: A man who loved man for his strength, his love and his ability to please another man. I wanted to be that man, and was determined to be such a man, and Joe would show me how.

  Showered and dressed in casual easy to remove clothes and shoes, mum and I headed off to one of the many retailers of work clothing. As the climate in Cairns was tropical, shorts, short sleeve shirts, steel capped boots and good strong work socks were the order of the day; along with navy singlets for coolness. Combination overalls would also have to be bought, as these were required while attending the TAFE (Technical and Further Education) classes. We bought 5 pairs of navy shorts, and shirts, same in socks, heavy steel capped work boots and 2 pair of overalls. Mum also decided I needed a set of wet weather gear for the tropical downpours we received each wet season. Underwear was also purchased, navy coloured jocks and singlets. The singlets help soak up the sweat when working hard which this trade did every day. Motor mechanics trade was a heavy trade, and heavy lifting was a constant part of the days work. When mum signed the credit card slip, I saw the amount was just over $700, and I nearly fell flat. I would never have been able to pay for that by myself. I loaded up the boot of the car with our purchases, and mum decided we needed a good strong cup of coffee, so we headed for Cairns Central and parked this time in the covered area, and entered on the ground floor, heading for Gloria Jeans Coffee Shop. They have a nice outdoor area where we could feel the cooling breezes instead of the chilled air-conditioned air of the centre, and also I could have a cigarette. I did not smoke a lot, about 5 a day at this stage, but the day seamed to warrant it, especially since I had not had my after-sex fag, or so I determined. Mum knew I smoked, and although did not condone it, was tolerant of it, and allowed me to light up without comment. Dad would never allow me to smoke in front of him, but knew also that I smoked when out at night.

  I met Paul that night at the Coffee Club on the Esplanade, and we sat and talked over our steaming hot Latte’s. I told him about Joe, and how we had got on well, and I was starting the next day.

  “I knew you two would hit it off. Joe is a great guy, but needs to be in charge. He will teach you a great deal, both in your trade and in your sex life. But I will teach you how to enjoy being gay in this great city of ours. Just leave it to me lol; Pauly here knows all the good spots, and all the delicious men to go with it. There is a veritable smorgasbord out there, and it is all free if you know where to go. Stick with me babe, and we’ll fuck and suck this town together.” We both began to peel with laughter, and I really felt comfortable in his company.

  He was the type of guy you liked instantly, his 5’10” frame slim, but firm in the right places, his fair hair long to his shoulders and parted in the middle, tended to fall over his gorgeous deep hazel eyes, and the eyes had a mischievous twinkle that gave him a roguish appeal. Although Paul admitted he was always a bottom, he was not over feminine in his ways, more in the middle in his mannerisms. Being gay to him was a life style, something he always knew he was, and always accepted without reservation. His parents knew from an early age he was not going to be the man they had always wanted, when his actions with his playmates caused them concern from the start of 1st grade; his first cock suck on one of his classmates. But they accepted him for what he was, and loved him unreservedly, and he always took his latest boyfriend home for dinner. Sometimes they only saw the boy once, occasionally they would see them several times before Paul would tire of them and go looking for the next love in his life.

  Trix night club was in the heart of the city, in Spence Street, nothing outwardly different to any other night club, bouncer at the door, only this bouncer was in drag. Tall about 6’2”, blonde wig done high and curly, a black evening dress held up by thin shoulder straps, and of course the obligatory high healed shoes. Built like a brick shithouse, even though he, or should I say she, was not someone you would like to tangle with. Linda Lovalot was her drag name, and I was sure she could live up to her name. Inside was again typical club scene; only here was a mixture of guys with guys, girls with girls and guys with girls. All mixed comfortably with the drinks flowing, voices roaring and the music deafening. Paul dragged me over to the bar, and ordered 2 Hahn Light beers.

  “Don’t want to get too drunk just yet, got to suss out the competition first, and see the lie of the land. Come on, let’s grab a quick dance and see who is hot tonight.” We downed our beers, and headed for the dance floor. It felt like it was a meter square, and had a thousand people danc
ing, but it was of course the usual size; but it was packed. As we started to dance, we constantly bumped into people, and Paul would apologize, and then realize it was an acquaintance or friend. After this happened several times, I realised Paul was doing it deliberately to make sure other gays knew he had arrived at the club. It was a deliberate act to get others interested in his body for a night of casual sex. He seldom introduced me, but I got several really quizzical looks, and a few winks and crutch rubs. This place was rocking, and I really felt a part of the scene. Why hadn’t I braved this before now? Paul constantly disappeared for ten or fifteen minutes at a time, and reappeared dishevelled and sweating. After the second or third time I realised he was heading to the toilets, so decided to follow him in, and sure enough, there he was unzipping a guys jeans, and getting ready to suck him off. I was about to leave the toilet, when a guy about 5’7” came in, black hair cropped short, but his body looked muscular and had certainly been well looked after. He wore leather pants, Johnny Reb boots, a leather waistcoat, and several gold chains around his neck. His chest hair was thick and curly, going all the way to his neck to where he had shaved. He also had a thick moustache, running down the sides of the mouth. He looked great, and my groin was starting to react. He looked at me, and then at Paul. He beckoned me over to the other side of the toilet near the urinals. He did not say a word, but unzipped his leather jeans, pulled me too him, and forced my head down to his crutch. He was wearing an athletic supporter in black leather, and I could smell the animal smell of leather and male musk mixed together. My cock was sending me urgent signals by now, and would loved for this guy to suck me off, but it looked like I was the one going to do the sucking.