Bend Over, Pretty Twink

The garage door was down and the radio was on for the neighbours, not for them.

Mal was thirty-three, overalls open, cock already out. Joe was thirty-eight, still in his work boots, and had been hard since Mal texted bay three, door down, I want your mouth and then your arse. They had been doing this on Fridays for two months. The rule was simple. Ask. Hear yes. Then be filthy.

"Yes?" Mal said.

"Yes. On my knees first."

Joe went down on the concrete and took Mal's cock in his mouth, hungry, spit on his chin. Mal held his hair and fucked his throat until Joe gagged and tapped, and Mal eased off, and Joe pulled him back in. When Mal was close he pulled out.

"Bench. Trousers down. I want in you."

Joe bent over the workbench. Mal opened him with oiled fingers, then pushed in, slow and then not. Joe swore into his arm. Mal fucked him hard, a hand on his hip, the other stroking his cock. Joe came across the bench. Mal came inside him, groaning, forehead on his shoulder.

"Same time next Friday," Joe said, wrecked.

"Bring the boots," Mal said. "Leave them on."

They did not stop at one. Mal zipped nothing. He put Joe on his back on the bench and sucked his cock until Joe was hard again, then fucked him with his boots still on the concrete, the radio covering the slap of it. Joe stroked himself and came on his own stomach. Mal came in him and kissed him after, grease and spit. "Friday," Joe said. "Boots on. Mouth first." Mal nodded. In the car Joe was sore and smiling. He texted still yes. Mal replied bay three. The neighbours got the radio. They got the rest.

Friday Joe arrived in the boots and nothing else under the overalls. Mal put him on his knees on the concrete and fucked his mouth until spit ran onto the floor, then bent him over the bench and took his arse hard, a hand on his cock. Joe came on the wood. Mal came in him and stayed there, radio loud, both of them grinning. They did it again on the bonnet of the car that was not theirs to dent, careful and filthy. Joe sucked him clean after. Mal kissed him with grease on his thumb. Bay three stayed booked. The boots stayed on. The neighbours got a song. They got each other.

Mal kept the radio on and Joe's boots on and fucked him over the bench until Joe was begging and coming on the wood. Then Mal put him in the car, door still down, and had his mouth in the driver's seat, coming down his throat. Joe swallowed and grinned with spit on his chin. They kissed like men who had a Friday. The next week Joe arrived early and sucked Mal before the overalls were off, then took him on the bonnet, boots planted, voice low. Mal came in him and said pretty twink like a compliment and a claim. Joe said say it again. Mal did. The neighbours changed the station. It did not matter.

Joe started leaving the boots at the garage. Mal liked that. On Friday he had Joe suck him in the office chair, then bent him over the desk and fucked him with the radio up and the door down. Joe came in his fist. Mal came in him and called him pretty while he did it. They ate chips on the bonnet after, trousers open, unbothered. Joe said the word boyfriend like a test. Mal said yes, and also bend over. Joe laughed and did, once more, quick, before the chips were cold. The bay stayed theirs on Fridays. The rest of the week was just waiting.

The overalls stopped being a costume and became the signal. Joe walked in, boots on, and Mal had him on his knees before the radio warmed up. Mouth, then bench, then the car seat with the door down. Joe came twice. Mal came in him and on his tongue and called him pretty twink until the word was theirs. They ate chips. They kissed. Friday stayed sacred. Joe said boyfriend again, easier. Mal said yes, and also next week I want you face up so I can watch you take it. Joe said yes. The concrete remembered their knees. They did not mind.

Joe texted boots on from the bus. Mal replied door down. They were early. The radio never stood a chance.