Chuck

Sometimes I feel like I live in Wal-Mart. I'm always there picking up odds and ends, whether I really need them or not. A couple of nights ago I was there to have some keys made, and could not find anyone on the floor to help me, in spite of the fact that the store was practically empty. I walked around for what seemed like an eternity before I finally spotted someone...him. His name is Chuck, but we'll get to that in a second. His royal blue short-sleeved shirt (part of the Wal-Mart uniform) was half tucked into form-fitting, khaki pants. The first thing that caught my eye about him was his physique. He's at least 6'1", maybe 6'2", and sturdily built. He was several feet away at the end of the isle and walking away from me, and I couldn't help but stare at his beefy ass as he went. I yelled a timid "Hey," which he didn't seem to hear, because he kept going in the opposite direction. I hastened my steps a bit to catch up to him, and when I was within earshot of him, I said, "Excuse me. I was wondering if you could help me with something."

He turned, and I just about lost control of my footing. Striking blue eyes and a gorgeous smile greeted me as he turned to acknowledge me. His hair, dark and thick, was slightly mussed from what I assumed had been a long day of work, and his face was covered with just the slightest bit of stubble. "How may I be of service?" he asked, his voice penetratingly deep yet animated and inviting.

"I need a key made, and...I didn't see anyone back by the machine..."

"Ahh, yes...the ever-empty key-grinding station. For some reason people just don't like to hang around that thing!" I was taken by his sense of humor, and even more taken by his burly chest that heaved as he spoke. Two or three buttons were undone on his shirt, allowing tufts of thick, dark hair to peek through. It was apparent he wasn't wearing an undershirt because his nipples were nearly ready to pierce through the cotton fabric. "Follow me."

I followed him, alright. I watched every inch of his strong, strapping body as we made our way towards the back of the store. He carefully tucked his shirt all the way in as he moved, which made the shape of his ass all the more visible. We approached the key-grinding machine and I could barely remember what I was there for.

"How many would you like made?" he asked.

"Just two. You never know when you might need a spare."

"True," he said. "I always get at least three keys made because I'm notorious in losing them." Just then he bent over to plug something up behind the machine, giving me a full-moon shot of his glorious ass, and I was beginning to think that he was trying to tell me a little something. He crouched even further on the floor, which made his ass go up even higher, and I suddenly felt my cock jump in my pants.

"There," he said, exhaling as he stood back up. "Somebody left it unplugged. So, you said two, right?"

"Uh...yeah...just two." I could feel my face turning red as I handed him the key. His hand, big and strong, touched a few of my fingers in the exchange, which made me blush even more. He was without a nametag, and I knew that I could not walk away without at least getting his name, but I just didn't know when or how to bring it up to ask him. He placed the key into the machine, hit a few buttons, and as it slowly hummed to life, he hopped up onto the counter beside it while we waited. I nearly gasped at the sight of his thick, muscular thighs straining against the tight khaki material of his pants, and a little further north revealed a solid, thick, round bulge. I knew I had to say something before the drool started to drip from my mouth.

"Gee, the store's awfully empty for a Friday night, eh?" I said.

"Thank goodness," he sighed. "I've spent the last eight hours on my feet and these dogs are barking. Say, didn't I see you in here the other day carrying out some boxes or something?"

'Yes!' I thought to myself. 'He's seen me before, and better yet, remembers me!' This would be the conduit for me in asking his name.

"Probably," I said. "I'm in the process of moving, and a guy that works here gave me a bunch of boxes."

"Moving? In all this heat? That's gotta be hell, no pun intended."

"Hell is right. You don't know how much stuff you have until you move. And what's worse, my apartment building's on a street that inclines."

"Really? Where about do you live?"

"Catontown, just down the road." Okay, he asked me where I live. A few more seconds and I will have his name, damnit. 'Ask him, ask him!' I was screaming to myself.

"No kidding," he replied. "That's where I live. Chesterfield Apartments."

"Get out of here!" I'm in Chapel Hills, right across from Chesterfield."

"Small world," he said.

"Small indeed. Say, I don't think I caught your name." Phew, I asked...finally.

Just then the machine stopped, and he hopped off of the counter and quickly grabbed the keys from it. He walked over to me and, while handing me my items, said, "Charles. But everybody calls me Chuck."

"Okay, Chuck. So what's my damage?"

"Shhh...," he said playfully, putting a thick finger up to his lips. "It's on the house."

"No, seriously..."

"On the house. I know what moving's like, and, well, I feel like it'd be adding insult to injury if I charged you. Besides, with us being neighbors and all..."

"Well, what can I say? Thank you so much." I was grinning ear to ear and so was Chuck, and, as we stood there in the back of the nearly empty air-conditioned store, I could feel a little heat brewing between me and the hunky Wal-Mart guy.

"What time do you knock off?" I asked, slightly surprised at my bluntness.

"Actually, I was just leaving about ten minutes ago."

"You mean, I stopped you from leaving...?"

Suddenly Chuck burst into laughter, and said, "No worries! The longer I stay on the clock the more money I make...so..."

"Well, since we're neighbors and all, how would you like a lift? Do you drive?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. However, my car's in the shop, so I've been getting here on my trusty 10-speed. Just let me tie up a few odds and ends up front, and I'll meet you outside."

"Sure thing. I drive a dark blue Honda Civic. I'll pull right up."

Chuck walked ahead of me with a little spring in his step, and I was glad because if he had stayed a little longer he would've surely seen the full wood I was sporting.

**

I pulled up to the front of the store, wound the front windows down and cut the engine. My heart was beating fast, and my mouth was dry. 'Damn it, don't be nervous now!' I scolded myself. 'Maybe all he really wants is just a ride home.' I kept telling myself not to get too worked up--that I could be reading a little more into this than what was actually there. And then I thought about him again. Chuck. All 6 foot something, 190 some-odd pounds of him. On the many occasions I'd gone into that store I had never seen him. Ever. And then tonight, close to closing time, I walk in and suddenly there he was.

If this was going to turn out like I hoped, then it was certainly a long time coming. It'd been close to two months since I'd had sex, and the drought was quickly becoming a barren desert wasteland. I was becoming too good a friend with my right hand, and it would be nice to have a flesh and blood person to get intimate with, even if it did only entail a quick fuck at my place or his.

I started to laugh. "Oh, boy, what are you getting yourself into?" I said out loud, glancing at my reflection in the rearview mirror. I'm a pretty good-looking guy myself. 5'10", brown hair that just touches my shoulders, nicely-trimmed facial hair, brown eyes, a toned physique (thanks to a gym membership that I'm just starting to make really good use of). This poor, unsuspecting guy has no idea that I want to take him home and screw him until he forgets his own name. Or does he? Could it be that that's exactly what he has in mind as well? If the vibes I was getting back by the key-grinding machine were any indication, then he was certainly feeling the same way as me. I watched a few people straggling out of the store with their purchases, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel in anticipation. Five, maybe ten minutes passed before I finally saw Chuck emerge from the store. He moved briskly to the side of the building to unchain his bike, then began to glance around, looking for me.

"Over here!" I yelled out the open window. He walked quickly to the car, motioning for me to open the back door.

"I hope you don't mind," he said.

"Not at all. I just hope it fits in the backseat."

"We'll see." He opened the back door and, after a moment or two of maneuvering, slid his bicycle in with ease.

"Whaddaya know...a perfect fit!"

I chuckled as he opened the passenger side door and got in. The smell of his cologne--faint but still present--tickled my nostrils, and that smile that greeted me just minutes ago inside the store was now smack dab in my face.

"By the way, what exactly is your name?" Chuck asked.

"I guess it is only fair that you know mine since I know yours, right? It's Sam."

"Nice to meet ya, Sam," he said, extending his hand as if we'd just met for the first time. I shook it, and was transfixed by his strong grasp.

"Well, I guess we're off," I said, starting the car and pulling away from the curb. "So, how long have you worked at Wal-Mart?"

"I started just this past Christmas as a seasonal thing to make some extra cash, and they decided to keep me on part time. My real job is in medical insurance."

"Really?" I said. "So if I break my toe and have to go to the ER you'll pay the claim for me?"

Chuck laughed and said, "Well, it's not that simple, but yeah. Something like that."

As I drove, the two of us made small talk with ease, and I couldn't help but notice his hands resting on his massive thighs. Every once in a while he'd rub his hands over his thighs as he spoke, which I assumed was just a subconscious thing on his part. Whatever it was, it was turning me on--big time. Up close his bulge looked even bigger than it did in the store, and, I don't know if it was my mind playing tricks on me or what, but, I swore I could make out the head of his cock. Needless to say, I tried to avoid looking at it too much because I could feel the tent beginning to form in my pants again.

Before long we were nearing the street we both lived on, him on one side, me on the other. It was then that Chuck spoke up.

"So, what were you gonna do tonight?" he asked.

"I dunno, maybe unpack a little more. Drink some wine. Watch a movie until I fall asleep."

"You want some help?"

My heart did leaps in my chest as I fought back the urge to scream YES! Instead, I played it casual and said, "Sure. I could use all the help I can get at this point."

I turned onto our street and pulled into the lot of my apartment building, quickly nabbing a parking space. Chuck got out first to grab his bike from the backseat, and, silly as it was, I quickly rubbed my hand over the seat he'd just been sitting in, relishing the warmth his ass left on it. When I got out of the car, we both made our way to my building, and Chuck pointed out to me where he lived.

"See, just over there behind those pine trees you can see my building," he said.

"I see. Now I'll know where to come if ever I need a cup of sugar." We both laughed and Chuck moved to place his bike in a hidden nook under the stairs that lead to my apartment. I reassured him that it'd be safe there and we both began to climb the stairs. I fumbled for my keys and opened to door to my apartment, which was dark and cool (thankfully, I'd left the air conditioning on). With a flip of the light switch, the entire living room became flooded with light, revealing a mess of boxes, strewn papers and what-not over furniture.

"Please excuse the mess," I said.

"Are you kidding? This is neat compared to the way my place looked when I first moved in."

"Well, I don't feel so bad now," I joked. "You like white wine?"

"Sure do."

I watched him plop down onto my long couch and walked into the kitchen, grabbing two wine flutes (thank God they weren't packed away) and the corkscrew from the drawer. Making quick work of opening the bottle and pouring it, I walked back into the living room and caught Chuck unabashedly adjusting himself. Pretending not to notice, I handed him his glass and settled onto the love seat across the room.

"Good," he said after sipping his wine. "You mind if I take off my shoes?"

"No, not at all," I responded. I wanted to tell him to take off more, but, that was to come. "So this is it. Home sweet home."

"Nice. Spacious. You got one bedroom?"

"Two. The other one I'm thinking of turning into a den or an office or something. Maybe use it as a spare bedroom for guests."

"Spare bedrooms are always good. You never know who's gonna drop in when you least expect it."

"Very true. So, what do you like to do for fun, Chuck?"

"I'm an outdoorsy kind of person. I'm actually enjoying riding my bike back and forth to the store because it allows me to get in more exercise than just going to the gym every other day. It's giving me some real definition in my legs and everything."

"I can tell," I blurted out, and immediately wanted to kick myself for saying it. "I mean..."

"No, it's okay," Chuck laughed. "I'm glad somebody can tell. It let's me know I'm doing something right." I felt a little embarrassed for a moment, but the wine was helping in subsiding that. I began to space out a bit, and I think Chuck could tell. "What are you thinking about?" he asked.

"I was just thinking about how it feels like I've known you for a long time even though we just met a little more than an hour ago."

"Funny, I feel the same way. Although technically, I knew you before you knew me."

"I know, you saw me carting out those boxes the other day," I said.

We both laughed and there was a bit of a silence between us before Chuck spoke again.

"What are you sitting over there for?"

"Because I didn't want this couch to feel left out," I joked. The wine was really getting to me at this point, lightweight that I am. He raised his finger and, with a serious look on his face, beckoned for me to come over to his couch. Without saying a word I did just that, and settled in inches from him, close enough to hear him breathe. His chest heaved as he took in a deep breath and spoke.

"Can I be honest with you?"

"Honesty is always best," I said.

"Earlier, when you came up to me in the store...if you were just anybody, I probably would've told you I was about to knock off and gotten somebody else to help you. But, I instantly remembered you from the other day and..."

"What?"

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since then. When I saw you again tonight, I was beside myself. I mean, how often does something like that happen? With all the people who come in and out of that store, I felt the odds of me seeing you again were pretty slim. And then to find out that you live right across the street..."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that if I don't kiss you right now, I'm going to go out of my mind."

In the silence of my living room I could hear the deafening sound of my heart beat pounding in my eardrums. We were face to face, both of our glasses of wine were finished, and before I knew what was happening Chuck had grabbed my face and was kissing me with the deepest, most passionate kiss that I had ever experienced. His tongue tasted warm and sweet in my mouth, and it was more than a few minutes before we broke away long enough to get a breath in.

Without saying a word he gazed into my eyes and took my hand, placing it on his burly chest. He guided it over the dark hairs that peeked from under the Wal-Mart shirt, and slowly led it down until it rested on his growing, pulsing member.

"I saw you looking at it in the store. I saw you looking at it in the car. I know you want it."

I literally could not speak. I think I may have tried to get out a few words, but Chuck placed his fingers up to my lips, lovingly forbidding me to say anything.

I began to move my hand over the length of his cock--a thick, cylindrically-shaped object encased in khaki pants that was pulsing and growing by the second (it had now grown to stretch over the entire length of his upper thigh). He let out a small moan and titled his head back as my movements became faster, and I went in to kiss his exposed Adam's apple and thick neck. His stubble pricked my face and mouth as I sucked, licked and kissed his warm flesh, savoring the salty taste of his manliness and the faint scent of his cologne.

"Oh, Sam..." he whispered breathlessly. "Please..."

"What is it?"

"Let me make love to you."

And with that, he quickly began to remove his shirt, revealing a massive, muscular chest with hard, pinkish nipples and tufts of dark hair. His shoulders were broad and flecked with sunburn--a telltale sign that he probably went shirtless a lot. I moved to take off my shirt as well, and before I could go to remove my pants he had me flat on my back on the couch, grinding his sturdy frame into my body with a lust that I had never dreamed possible. His breathing was coming harder and faster, and I could feel his rock-hard cock pressing down on my bare stomach through his pants.

"Take these off," I said, tugging at his belt and waistband. He pinned my arms over my head and kissed my neck for a little while longer before kneeling before me to un-do his pants.

"I don't usually do this," I said, wanting him to know that I wasn't necessarily easy, but not really caring one way or the other.

"Me either," he replied breathlessly. He was kneeling over me on the couch, and with one tug, his belt buckle was loosened. In a quick motion, he whipped it from around his waist and tossed it to the floor.

Chuck was gazing at me with serious lust in his eyes, and I the same at him. He teased me a bit, sliding his hands underneath the waistband of his pants and tugging them down just enough for me to see his upper pelvis. Oh, was he a sight to behold. His flat stomach, which contained a trail of hair that began on his chest, heaved and flexed as he continued to arouse himself (and me) by caressing his pubic area. Chuck licked his lips until they were saturated with saliva and closed his eyes, and in one move he shoved his pants down just below his meaty thighs (it was then that I noticed he wasn't wearing any underwear). His thick, swollen cock hit my stomach with a thud, and my mouth watered at the sight of it. His balls were big, hung low and were flecked with short brown hairs. That big dick seemed to have a mind of its own, as it jumped, bobbled and moved without him even touching it. I went to grab for it and his hands caught mine, quickly pinning them behind my head again.

"Uh uh...," he said. "Not yet." He made quick work of fully removing his pants and then went to remove mine. I helped him out by raising my ass a little so that he could tug them down, and he took them and my boxers off in one fell swoop, tossing them to the floor with his.

Chuck laid his body on mine again and continued the grinding motion he'd started just seconds before when we were clothed, but this time I could feel that bare rock hard cock of his on my pelvis. He panted and groaned in my ear as he drove his member into my mid-section with almost brute force, and I could feel the wetness of his precum smearing on my stomach as he went. Without fully lifting his body, he repositioned so that his dick was now pressing against mine, and it took everything within me to keep from exploding right then and there. He began to grind his hard cock into mine, and with each movement his moaning grew louder and louder. I, too, could hardly control the guttural sounds of pleasure escaping my own mouth, and Chuck silenced them quickly by ramming his tongue down my throat again. He now kissed me with such a passion that it seemed as though he wanted to swallow me whole. In the moment that he let go of my hands I seized the opportunity and reached around him, grabbing a hold of his big, muscular ass and forcing him down on me even harder. Not being able to control myself, I slid my index finger into his asshole, which was tight, warm and slightly hairy.