God, I hated this two-bit town. But if I wanted to get anywhere with the bank I worked for, I'd have to stick it out here for at least two years. If I could make it as manager of this small branch in this small town, then in two years I could expect a transfer to the managership of a larger branch in a larger center. This was my start up the ladder.

But why here, in this tiny prairie town on the Trans-Canada, a place that people only stopped in to fill up on gas for the next leg of their journey? The gas station on the highway was always busy, but that was the only place that was. But it had no mechanics actually working on a Sunday, unless I wanted to pay call-in - and double time for a Sunday.

Instead I drove round to the only other gas station in town, a small, one-pump station, with a small convenience store, and with two car bays at the rear for the mechanic, who was also the owner's only son. He had come in do do a little business at the bank just a few days before.

A sign in the window said CLOSED, but I noticed the mechanic heading for the rear of the building.

I leaned out the window of my pickup.

"Hey, Fred!" I called, to attract his attention.

He turned and saw me, recognized me. He came back to where I was idling the pickup under the pump awning. He stood by my truck.

I turned off the engine and got out.

"Hey, Mr. Burns," Fred greeted.

"Tom," I told him. "I'm your customer now, not your bank manager."

He grinned, "OK, Tom. What's up?"

"My truck's running the shits," I told him. "It ran fine all the way from Toronto, but now it's not doing so well."

"Well, we're closed on Sunday's, but it you want to start her up, I'll give it a listen. Pop the hood."

I climbed back in, turned the engine over, and popped the hod as instructed. Fred raised the hood and stuck his head in for a bit, listening. Then he closed it again. He came to the car side window.

"Yeah, it sure is rough," he agreed, "but I don't think it's anything serious. Swing it round the back and we'll get it into one of the bays." He headed toward the store door, digging the keys out of his pocket as he did so. I watched him walk away. Fred was in his thirties, maybe close to forty. His mother was Italian, and his heritage showed in his dark skin and hair. He was only wearing greasy blue work-pants and boots. It was a hot day, and he was shirtless. He had a nice straight back with broad shoulders. I wondered what it would be like to fuck that nice firm ass.

He disappeared into the storefront, and I drove round to the back of the building. Fred was already rolling up one of the bay doors, and he motioned me to drive inside. When the truck was in and I cut the engine, Fred closed the bay door behind me.

"Don't want other customers to think I'm giving you special treatment," he explained. "Or my mother. She'd want to charge you. This is a freebie - on me!"

"No, no," I objected. "I want to pay, I insist."

"Well, we'l come to some arrangement," he grinned. "Now start that engine and release the hood again."

I leaned into the truck, pulled the hood release, and turned the key in the engine lock. It came to life, but coughed and spluttered than ran unevenly racing, then dying, racing then dying.

Fred had lifted the hood by m now and was head first into the engine well, listening and fiddling.

I walked around to the front of the pickup, behind Fred. Man! I almost has a heart attack and got an instant hard-on. Fred was leaning right into the engine, over the front grille. His work jeans had slipped down below his waist, almost right off his buttocks, exposing his crack and a glimpse of silky black underwear. I felt like closing in behind him, pulling his pants further down, and shoving my cock in there!

"How long since you've done a full service on this?" Fred asked me, still tinkering under the hood.

I had to think for quite a bit. "Well, it was before I left Toronto, and that was six months ago. I had a complete tune-up for the trip."

"And the trip was a couple of thousand kilometres or more," he mused, "through all sorts of conditions."

"Yeah, and I've driven there and back again twice since," I admitted.

"Well, your air filter is plugged right up with prairie dust and bugs. So is your radiator. Your oil filter probably also needs replacing, because your oil is like tar. And it needs a little tuning. I can do all that for you this afternoon."

He had moved away from my truck by now, and was fiddling with something under the hood of the other vehicle in the shop. His low-hanging pants has slipped even further, showing a broad section of his black underwear.

"And what am I going to owe you?" I asked.

At this point Fred dropped all pretence - and his pants. They slipped down his legs to the floor, leaving him standing there in just his black undies.

"How does a blow-job sound?" he asked, with a big grin on his face.

"Sounds like a real bargain to me," I replied.

Fred's grin got wider as he shucked off his boots, and kicked off his undies and pants. His dick was standing free and hard, a thick, uncut chunk of meat. Great for a Sunday snack!

I followed his lead, and soon my clothes were draped over the sides of my truck. I moved in on him and grabbed his thick pole. I squatted before him, and pulled him toward me. I opened my mouth and took as much as his cock into it as I could. As I said, it was a thick cock, and I had to open really wide to get much of it in.

"Ah, that's good," murmured Fred. "It's been a while. I don't get much action round here. But I figured you might be good for it when I came in about that loan recently. You kept looking at my crotch."

"I didn't think you'd notice," I mumbled, licking his dick. "You do have a nice basket for staring at."

"Thanks," he replied. "So do you. If I hadn't been there looking for a loan, I might have hit on you."

"Too bad you didn't," I told him. I always lock my office door when I have a customer. The staff know better than to interrupt me."

"Hmm, maybe next time … " Fred murmured as I resumed sucking on his mighty cock.

"Do you like getting rimmed," I asked him.

"Sure, when I'm about to get fucked," he said. "Loosens me up real great."

I turned him round and spread his cheeks. His tight hole was exposed to my tongue. I tried to lick him but he had bulbous butt cheeks and I couldn't access it very well. He put one foot up on the grille of the sedan he had been working on, and steadied himself with a hand on his roll-away tool box. That gave me plenty of access. I set to work chewing him out, and for variety I would pull down his dick and suck on that for a bit.

Fred was very vocal, and was constantly moaning, or cooing, or oohing and aahing, as I licked or sucked or chewed on his cock or his asshole. Soon, both his dick and his ass were soaking wet, from my spit, and his sweat, and pre-cum and ass juices.

"You wanna fuck me?" Fred asked, hopefully.

"Sure do," I told him. "Been thinking about it since I saw you outside."

"Good," he said. "I've been needing a good cock inside me, and yours is good!" Fred reached down and grasped my throbbing cock. It wasn't as thick as his own but it was a good seven inches. He left me long enough to gather a drop cloth from his work bench. I presume he used it to keep grease off customers' upholstery. He spread the cloth on the clean, but oily, cement floor.

"I've got plenty of lube here," he told me, opening his tool box. I thought for a moment he would hand me a grease gun, but he gave me a tube of silicone dick lube.

"I keep it here for when I'm working alone and feel like jerking off," he told me. "Now do me."

Fred dropped to all fours on the spread drop cloth. I slathered some of his cock lube on my rod and dropped to my knees between his spread legs. His buttocks with his sweet hole staring invitingly at me. I poked my oily finger into it. The lube did its job as it was intended. It slipped easily into him. Fred let out a great moan.

"Oh, man! I need a cock in me!" he moaned. "Ram it into me!"

I placed my throbbing knob at his doorway to heaven. I didn't have to push it in. Fred felt the pressure of my cock-head against his eager hole, and he pushed back steadily, to impale himself upon my sword. The muscles relaxed and stretched. They opened to engulf the tip of my cock, then wider to swallow more, and then more to allow my whole knob to slip inside me. There was a little more internal pressure, stopping my head from entering any further for a moment, then the bulb of my cock burst through, and my whole shaft slipped deep into him.

Fred gave a great gasp. "Oh, yes, I've needed this for weeks!"

Now I did push, and drove myself into his depths as hard as I could. Soon my groin was pushed hard against his buns. I was straining to reach deep into him, but this was the limit.

I wrapped my arms around his chest and forced myself into him. It was almost like a wrestling hold and a love hold in one.

I could feel him clenching and releasing his sphincter, trying to pull me yet deeper into himself.

"Feel good?" he asked.

"Does it ever!" I assented. His muscles were working on my dick like a greedy toothless mouth, chewing on my dick. "I'm not sure whether I'm fucking your ass, or your ass fucking my dick."

"Whatever it is, do it more, do it faster, cum in my ass."

I did as he asked, riding him, holding on to him, while he bucked beneath me as we fucked, me fucking him while he fucked my cock. Soon he got his wish. My juices began to flow. My cum rode up the hollows of my dick and shot out into his insides.

"I can feel you shooting," Fred told me. "Give it all to me."

Spent, I dropped off him onto my back on the drop-cloth. I lay on my back, panting, as my dick slowly went soft.

Fred got up and pulled on his socks and boots.

"You just relax," he told me. "I've got work to do on your truck." And that's what he did. He went back to working on my pickup - almost completely naked!

"Get your strength back," he told me. "When I've done with your truck, maybe we can do it again - and maybe I can do you."

And that's just what happened. Fred got my truck purring nicely, and made me promise to make sure it got regular service in future. Then we fucked again - first he did me; then I did him again.

I keep my promise and take my truck in to Fred regularly - always on a Sunday, when they are closed. And I always get an oil change, whether my truck needs one or not!

Your comments on this story will be appreciated: