Christmas At The K-Mart By Vince Fitzpatrick Art by Moktar I'm not ashamed to admit it — I am an unabashed ass lover. Nothing gets me up so fast or so hard as rimming some hunky dude's asshole. I know that for other guys, rimming their partners' rosebuds is merely a tasty prelude to shoving in their cocks. But not for me. For me, rimming is the end-all, be-all of my sexual encounters. I never expected to find any tantalizing tail at the K-Mart. This K-Mart was on the turnpike just outside the city. I went down there looking for a seasonal job during Christmas, and they hired me as a clerk in the stock room. After the crates were carried in by the loading platform crew, it was my job to stock the items on the shelves. It wasn't much of a job, but I needed the bread. One day during lunch break. I went into the head to piss. Gary, a salesclerk about my age, stood at the next urinal. He leered at me. ' 'It'll be worth your while to go out on the loading platform,'' he said. "What the hell should I go out there for? It's cold enough in the stock room," I grumbled. "Go out there and you'll see," he leered again. Gary and I had seen each other in the gay bars around town, so there was no reason to pretend we were not gay. At first, I didn't get his drift, telling me to go out to the loading platform. Then I reasoned he meant there was a great looking hunk out there who was a real turn-on. "I'll go," I told Gary as I zipped up, "but I just hope he's cute!" I still had fifteen minutes left on my lunch break. I stepped out onto the loading dock at the back of the store. Gray clouds scudded across the sky, pushed by a cold wind, and a little snow was flying on the wind. I looked around, but I didn't see anyone. The platform crew must have been on lunch break. There were some semi-heavies backed up to the platform, but only one of them had its big double doors open. I heard footfalls echoing around inside the trailer. A hunk appeared at the back doors, hefting a crate over his right shoulder. He was blond as a chrysanthemum is blond, with a bushy beard and curly hair. He must have hulked

six-foot-three in his boots, and was packed into a pair of faded Levi's. In spite of the cold, he wore only a vest and a flannel shin. No wonder Gary wanted me to take a look. The guy was a turn-on! "Grab this crate, fella!" he barked at me. "I don't work platform," I told him. "Shiiit..." he drawled, as he walked out of the truck. He stomped across to the other side of the dock and began grappling with other crates he had already piled up. I couldn't take my eyes off him. He was an ass man's dream come true — two heavy male boulders bouncing around under his faded denims. As be went on stacking up crates, his deep, long asscrack sucked the cloth into its depths. My eyes locked in orbit around each meaty globe, prowled into the long crevice between, and got glued there. Visions of his enchanting rosebud went dancing around in my head. My prod shot up full mast. I hung there, leaning against the wall, pretending I was just killing time. But he must have caught me looking at him out of the corner of his eye. He grinned back at me showing pearly white teeth. "Ever since I pulled up here this morning, you wimps inside have been coming out to eyeball me." I wasn't exactly a wimp, but there was no use denying I was eyeballing him. "You got our number, man." He stopped stacking the crates, and looked over at me. There was a frisky look in his eyes. "Bet you like to suck pipe." "Ummmmm.. .maybe." I shrugged. "Bet you like ass, too?" ' 'If you don't want guys looking at your ass, you shouldn't wear your 501's so tight." "Whatta ya think I wear 'em so tight for?" he leered. I wasn't sure if this was an invitation or not, but I sure as hell wasn't going to let his innuendo slip past me. 1 strode boldly over to him. All he could do was fist me in the teeth, or accept the offer I was about to make him. I felt my palms sweating, my heart pounding. "You want your asshole rimmed, man?" I asked, standing before him, hoping he would say "yes," rather than shove my teeth down my throat.

Then, I noticed, he was going on hard — a slow rising bulge in his pants. He searched my face with his piercing blue eyes while he seemed to think it over. "Yeah..." he said after a moment. "Yeah.. .1 guess I could go for a good rim job. Are you any good rootin' for poot?" "The best." "Okay, I knock off this dog labor at four o'clock. I'll park my rig at the edge of the parking lot, and wait. You meet me there." "I'll be there."

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At four o'clock, I punched out of the stock room, and walked across the sprawling parking lot. His rig was parked near the edge where the woods began, the tree branches all covered with snow. He was standing by the cab, rubbing his hands together from the cold, his booted feet pawing at the ground, like a stag in sexual tension. "Let's not waste time," he said. "I gotta pick up a load of TV'S after I leave here and haul 'em to Pittsburgh." "I'm Pete," I said. "I'm Spud." We shook hands. We scrambled into the trailer. He shut the double doors after us, and threw home the bolt lock. Then he switched on a small overhead bulb illuminating the now empty trailer. My cock was out of my zipper, and he let his 501's breeze down his legs — he wasn't wearing any shorts. His hard prod stood up a good eight inches, and his big balls hung low and down. His purplish cockhead was like a fat mushroom. I wanted to take it into my mouth and nibble on it, a tasty tidbit before the main course. I cupped his pleasure pole in my hand. He reached down and pushed my hand roughly away, and looked at me with hard, serious eyes. "I'll take care of my cock," he said. "You take care of my ass." "Right," I said. He lay belly down on the floor. I dropped on one knee behind him. I let my eyes feast on his scrumptious ass. Each meaty mound was frosted with a light blond down, and the long asscrack between was filled with blond fur. I straddled his thighs, bending forward,

and put my face up close to his fleecy crevice. When I got a whiff of his musk and sweat, the scent sent me into a frenzy of animal lust. Using my tongue like a trowel, I hungrily matted down his pelt. But there was so much fur, I still couldn't spy his manhole — I kept rooting around in his manly ravine, but his pink bud kept eluding my lascivious tongue. "Spread 'em a little," I husked. He spread-eagled his legs, widening the crack. Then I got my first look at what my mouth was watering for. There at the bottom of his hairy ass cave was a pink-colored circle of wondrous beauty. It unfolded like the petals of a rose, pink and silky under my lascivious gaze. When he twitched a little, it seemed to wink back at me like a living blossom. My tongue, like a maddened snake, darted for it. I was lost to everything but that tasty manhole. Grunting like a pig, I clamped my teeth to him. My fevered tongue swirled around and around, tasting him, teasing him, rimming him wildly. This was the best ass feast I had had in six months! My cock was all glazed over with pre-cum. ' 'Unhhhhhh...!" Spud sex-groaned as he thrashed around under me. "That feels so melon' good! Rim me more, man. Rim me more!" Needless to say, I needed no encouragement to press, or, shall we say, eat on? Curling my tongue into a pointed cylinder, I snaked past his asshole rim and up into his poot chute. The taste was delicious! Spud was moaning, yelling with pleasure, as I tongue-fucked his hole. But I was too crazed to hear his joyous cries. Down below my chin, his big, furry nuts were dancing a jig, as he pumped wildly with his pleasurepole. Suddenly, the hunk jackknifed onto his side; with my face still buried in his ass, I jackknifed with him. I felt my balls convulse and my shaft shoot out a thick cum-load of ecstasy into my hand. Spud was sexmoaning, too, pumping wildly at his prod, heading toward release. I felt his tremendous, shuddering orgasm. "Oh, Christ...!" he yelled, the echo bouncing crazily around the trailer. Rope after rope of hot jizz shot out of his pleasurepole, and splashed heavily against the opposite wall. He spasmed again, and drained out the last drop. Then we both flopped back on the cold floor, panting for breath. "Oh, man," he said after awhile, "that was the best rim job I've had in years! You got an experienced tongue." "I aim to please," I said. "You can please all right!" I got to my feet and zipped up; Spud snaked into his Levi's.

"Uh, listen, man.. .1 come around this way again in a couple of days...Maybe we could get together again and give my ass a replay of what you did today?" "I'll still be here," I told him, happily, thinking of another delicious feast on his handsome ass. We dropped out of the trailer, and Spud climbed up to the cab. He revved the motor, waved out at me, and rolled out of the lot. It was completely dark now with snow flying. I hunched my head against the wind, and started across to where my own car was parked. Working Christmas at the K-Mart wouldn't be so bad after all. *