Downing Tools
by David Heulfryn


I could hardly tell that the sun was creeping over the horizon as the huge floodlights cocooned us in our own little world and blinded us to anywhere where they didn’t shine. The only sign that our shift was coming to an end was the growing number of restless workmen and the beep of my digital watch.

Our small group of men was just a very tiny part of a considerable motorway widening scheme, it started six months ago and wasn’t due to be finished for another 12 months. Traffic congestion may be a significant problem, but it gave me guaranteed work for at least another year.

The motorway was a major commuter route. Some of the work had to be done at night, to prevent as much disruption as possible. Today we were coming to the end of the first week of the night works.

Going from days to nights really fucked up my body clock. And then there was the hour-long drive to the site. It seemed that I was fucking tired all day and all night, and I always found it difficult to sleep during the day – too much fucking noise and too fucking light.

I downed tools, let out a massive and loud yawn and looked around for Mark and Neil. Mark was the one who had a works van, and as all three of us lived in the same area, he was designated to pick us up and drop us off. Mark was also effectively our boss, supervisor or whatever you want to call him. He told us what to do on our bit of road and when. Neil and I were fresh out of our apprenticeship, eager to please and not to mention, loud and lairy.

Brushing the dust off my hands, I heard Mark shouting. “Get the fuck over here. I told ya I need to get ‘om quick.”

I jogged over to him. “Soz, mate.” And carried on jogging to the big red van where Neil waited, his head resting against the glass of the side door, his eyes closed and his hands in the large pockets of his loose, dirty, ripped and stained sweatpants.

“Ya look like I feel,” I said to him, but he just seemed to grunt a response.

Despite his eagerness to get going, Mark seemed to just dawdle over to us. He raised his arm and pointed his key fob at the van, the locks clicked open, and Neil staggered in. I climbed in after him.

“Budge up, get on yer own seat.” He straddled the two passenger seat and left little room for me.

Mark got in and started the van. “Hold on to yer seats and get strapped in.” He was not the kindest of drivers and jolted off, swerving to-and-fro avoiding the machinery and piles of rubble as he made his way to leave the site and join the motorway.

“Steady on, mate. We’re being jerked about summat chronic.” I held on to the door handle, and Neil just let his limp body flounder and bump against me and the seat.

Finally, we were on the motorway, and Mark just floored the pedal. Neil and I were thrown back into our seats, and he cruised at a steady 70mph.

Resting my head against the cold window, I closed my eyes. I knew I wouldn’t sleep, I never could sleep in a car. I was one of those strange creatures that could only sleep in their bed, no matter how tired I got. The radio was on low, and Mark hummed the occasional tune, somewhat tunelessly, but I tried to ignore it.

I felt Neil slump against me, and his head lolled onto my shoulder. In the cool morning air, his body felt warm, and his hot breath brushed across my neck. My own breath was leaving condensation trails down the window. I let Neil stay against me as I enjoyed the warmth from his body.

“Hey, Andy!” Mark whispered to me, urgently. “I know you ain’t asleep.”

“What,” I whispered back, not opening my eyes.

“Don’t be a twat and look alive.”

Lifting my head, I prised my eyelids apart and looked at Mark. His head darted from looking at me to looking at the road, and I sensed his foot ease off the accelerator pedal, and the van slow down a little.

“Look at this horny fucker.” Mark nodded towards Neil’s crotch.

Shifting in my chair, Neil stirred, his head coming off my shoulder and resting backwards while he slouched further down in the seat. Neil’s face was pointing the van’s roof, his neck fully exposed with his adam’s apple obscenely protruding outwards like the tip of a large, sharp knife. His position made his breathing louder, punctuated by an occasional snore, but he was still asleep.

Tired and lethargic, my head and eyes deliberately rotated to see where Mark was looking. What I saw got me excited and woke me up.

“Fucking hell. He’s one horny bastard. And it looks fucking huge.”

“Well, you’ve seen the way it just swings beneath his legs when he works, he must wear the loosest boxers he can find.”

We both knew he wore underwear as the waistband was always visible above his sweatpants, and also his sweats had a ripped flap right on his backside so without underwear he round, firm arse could be seen. When I first saw it, I hoped he would go commando one day.

“You’d think he could wait until he got home,” I said.

“Well, I’m sure you get just as horny as he does, two young strapping lads. I remember when I was your age, I’d have a hardon most of the fucking day. It were embarrassing, and I had to knock the occasional one out in the portaloos just to get it down.”


“Don’t tell me you’ve never done it.” I opened my mouth to deny it when he just carried on. “And me mates all knew as well, well if you leave pools of cum on the floor what d’ya expect.”

“You didn’t!” I laughed.

“All the fucking time. I came like a fucking hose in them days.”

I suspected he was full of shit.

“Nowadays, I’m lucky to get it up once a week and when I do the missus never wants any part of it.”

I didn’t know whether to feel sorry for him or not, especially if his wife wasn’t putting out.

“So I have to get my jollies another way.”

“Yeah, how’s that?”

“Let’s just say that the ladies like a bit of rough sometimes. And some guys too.”

“What, you fuck guys!”

“Don’t be a twat, I ain’t queer. But I let them suck me off. Some of them are so desperate, and some just like to suck off straight guys.”

I was shocked that this middle-aged bloke, who was nothing but hetero, had guys lips around his old and gnarled cock. It winced at the thought, never wanting to think about him getting a blow job.

Hearing Neil snore louder, we both looked at his face and then down at his crotch. It was still hard and tenting his sweatpants.

Mark began to get excited, his head darting from the road ahead to Neil’s bulge. “Christ, that is distracting. You’re going to have to do something about what.”

“What the fuck can I do?” I shrugged.

Mark smiled. “You know how to wank, don’t you?”

“No fucking way!”

Mark tried to persuade me for five minutes, steering clear of the whole gay aspect of what he wanted me to do, but instead, it was a lark. There was always a lot of banter between us and practical jokes. I remembered when Neil smeared warm tar over the handle of a shovel I was told to get. My hands were covered, and in trying to get the stuff off, I ruined a perfectly good pair of jeans; they were old but still good for work.

So this was not some gay thing, it was a prank, and Neil would wake up mortified. I had often wondered what swung between Neil’s legs and tossing him off held some deep-seated fantasy for me, but as far as Mark was concerned, I was only doing this to play with Neil’s head and to get back at him for the tar gag.

The very early morning traffic was few and far between, and Mark slowed down further so that he could watch.

I didn’t know where to begin as I had not done anything like this before, not wanking, I was an expert at that, but not wanking someone else. I extended my arm and placed my hand on top of the tent in Neil’s sweatpants.

“It’s fucking rock hard, and wet.”

“Get on with it before he wakes up.” Mark chided.

With both my hands, I gripped the elastic of his sweatpants and boxer shorts. The elastic was so old and worn that it gave way very easily. I wondered how he managed to keep them up. I pulled them out as far as they would go and then I tucked them underneath his balls. Neil’s dick flicked up when it was free from his clothes and rested against his dusty tee-shirt that covered his belly.

For a moment I just stared at his dick, it must have been about seven inches long, and his reddened knob was half exposed above his foreskin, it was moist, and I could see small amounts of clear liquid seep from his slit. Breathing in, I smelled his crotch. It smelt musky and musty; he definitely needed a shower.

“That’s a fucking dick and a half,” Mark commented, still keeping one eye on the road.

I went straight for the kill and wrapped my hand around his cock.

“It’s fucking sticky.” I squirmed, and Neil grunted through his snoring.

“Get on with it,” Mark whispered, trying not to wake him.

Slowly, my hand stroked Neil’s dick which started to leak like a tap. His pre-cum slid down his cock and onto my hand. I rubbed it into his cock, which made my hand slide up and down easier.

While stroking Neil, my other hand lifted his balls. “Fucking large balls, Mark. And heavy.”

“Full of cum, I bet.”

Neil groaned and slid his arse further down the seat, giving me greater access to his nuts. I rolled each one in my palm, they felt soft and smooth. For a brief moment, I wanted to see how one would feel in my mouth. But there was no room to try this, and I didn’t want to in front of Mark anyway.

Mark’s hand came over, and he pulled Neil’s tee-shirt up so that his belly was exposed. “That’s better; I can see all the goods now.”

He was right, Neil’s stomach was flat and toned, but his tee-shirt hid a thick and luxurious bush of pubic hair. It seemed to grow wild. It sprouted down the side of his dick and all the way up to his belly button. My hand left his balls and started to stroke his pubes; my fingers felt the wiry hair and tugged at the matted parts. I fiddled with the long hairs which sprouted at the side of his dick and twisted them in my fingers to make some form of pubic handlebar moustache. I chuckled to myself at the small horns of pubes which pointed outwards from his thighs.

Neil fidgeted some more, and I heard him smack his lips and make some guttural hum from the back of his throat. Both Mark and I looked at him, but Neil’s eyes remained closed, and he soon continued with his light snores.

I thought it time to end this and not push our luck for much longer. So I stopped playing with him and concentrated on pumping his thick dick. It leaked more and more, and my other hand held his balls so that I could work out when he was ready to cum. I watched as each stroke pulled his damp foreskin down, and his knob was fully exposed. It glistened in the dawning sun, and I had another urge, this time to feel his knob between my lips and taste him. But I had a job to do, and my eyes stayed glued to his dick as I carried on stroking him.

My other hand felt his balls twitch and lift up slightly. “I think he’s ready,” I whispered to Mark.

“Great!” He said as he slowed down even more so that he could see Neil erupt.

A few more pumps on his dick and Neil grunted loudly. I felt his dick thicken and a stream of cum spurted straight up, almost hitting the roof, before falling to land on Neil’s tee-shirt and bare stomach. His dick pulsed in my hand as he spewed more cum until it slowed to a feeble dribble which covered my hand. When the stream dried up, I left his dick alone.

“That was fucking awesome,” Mark commented. “Now pull his sweats back up but just leave the tip of his dick poking out the front.”

I did as he asked and looked at Neil. It looked like he’d got so hard his dick had freed itself, and he’d had a wet dream.

“My fucking hand is covered with his spunk.”

“Well, lick it clean.” Mark teased.

“Gross, man.” And I rubbed my hand dry on my own sweatpants.

“Time to wake sleeping beauty,” Mark said and then floored the van again, swerved and braked suddenly. “Get off the road you fucking cunt.” Mark shouted at the invisible car.

Neil grunted as he was jolted awake. “What the fuck.” He said.

“Fucking women can’t drive for toss.” He said as he looked at the road ahead.

Neil shifted in his seat and sat up. “What the fuck.” He said again as he saw his damp tee-shirt and the head of his dick looking at him. He quickly tucked it away, smearing cum over his hand.

“Looks like you had one hell of a dream,” Mark said.

“Yeah,” I butted in, “we didn’t want to disturb you as you were having such a good time.”

“Yeah, but then you nearly showered us with spunk.”

Neil went bright red. “Sorry, guys. I’ve not been getting much since my bird left me.”

“Well you could have a wank occasionally, then next time you may not cover the entire cab with your stuff.” Mark laughed.

Bowing his head in embarrassment, I noticed him look over at me and then my hand which rested on my leg. I looked down and could see his spunk still between my fingers like webbing. He’d noticed it too, and I sensed his smile.

Fuck, I’d been caught; at least I think I had.

As Mark dropped us off in the work’s yard, Neil turned to me and whispered out of Mark’s earshot. “Just give me a call next time you want to help me out. Without that cunt, Mark, next time. It’ll be more fun.”

I smiled and nodded at him as we left to make our own way home from the yard. I was horny as hell and couldn’t wait to get back and pound my dick within an inch of its life.


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