"I'm telling you it's true," Eddie insisted. We were sitting over beers at the bar.
"I don't believe it," I replied. "You haven't even seen him with your own eyes."
We continued to argue amid the smoke and hubbub.
"C'mon, Eddie, you've got to admit it's a little hard to believe," I said, as we headed out into the night some time later. "I've heard of cruising the bars, the baths and the tearooms, but--a car wash?"
"Look, if you go down there you'll see it's the perfect setup. It's in that new strip that they're just starting to develop between the Business-I and the Interstate. They put in the road for condos but they haven't gone up yet. This car wash is there, sitting by itself, woods all around. And it's twenty-four/seven.
"Anyway, supposedly this guy drives in late at night on weekends and washes his car in the far stall wearing only cutoffs or Speedos. If he sees anyone giving him the eye he gets naked. Pretty obvious what he's after."
"Guess so, if it's true," I conceded.
"Later, buddy," Eddie said, getting into his car.
"You don't want to come back with me?" I said, but he was already pulling out.
I watched him go, horny and frustrated.
Eddie's story was worth checking out, at least. I went one afternoon later that week after work, driving down the access road by the interstate, then swinging off onto the newly paved spur. As yet it led mostly to nowhere. The car wash was on a small plot of land on the right, about a quarter of a mile in, halfway between the access road and the business thoroughfare. The sign on the pole was electric blue and white, out of place standing in the middle what until recently had been woody, undeveloped land.
The car wash was ugly and utilitarian. There were eight stalls made of cinder blocks set in the middle of a large paved lot, with the detergent dispensers, power hoses and other equipment installed on the left wall of each. A couple of giant vacuum cleaners were set up in back, against the wooden fence that went around the entire property, except for the entrance in front.
That made this wash different from others I'd seen. From the street you couldn't tell whether a stall was occupied. You had to drive into the lot to see.
What Eddie was describing to me could actually happen here.
I didn't see him Friday night when I went by the bar. Some of my other friends were there but hadn't seen him either. I left early, a little after eleven, and stood in the street. Finally I gave in to my baser self and drove toward the interstate.
The harsh fluorescent lights of the car wash glared at the side of the otherwise dark road. I pulled into the lot and saw that, contrary to what I had thought, this wasn't a totally unpopular time to wash a car. Three of the stalls had cars in them. All of the occupants were fully clothed.
This was sure turning out to be a dull Friday night, but I wasn't quite ready to give up and go home. My own little Honda was grimy. I drove into an empty stall and dug into the ashtray for loose change. I dropped it in the slot and went to work. Soon I was busy soaping, rinsing and scrubbing, trying to keep ahead of the numbers on the digital timer counting down the seconds. I really had to move, and barely managed to finish rinsing everything off before the machine shut down.
I stood, holding the dripping hose, panting from my exertions. Though the night air was cool, I was sweating. There were wet patches on my shirt from accidentally hitting myself with the spray from the hose. Washing the car naked wasn't such a bad idea.
The thought made me remember why I had come out here. Hanging up the hose on the wall hook, I walked to the end of the stall I was in and looked out to both sides. I was in the fifth furthest stall away from the entrance. I strolled down past the first four--they were now empty.
My ear caught the sound of spraying water and other activity at the far end. Someone was in the very last stall. If you were going to cruise the car wash, that was the best place--plenty of time to hear another car coming into the lot.
A grassy strip went all the way around between the asphalt and the tall wooden fence. I began to walk down the row of stalls toward the end, staying on the grass. Here the lights were not quite so penetrating and there were pools of shadow.
I kept walking forward until the last stall and its occupant came into view. The vehicle was parked so that its front was facing me. It was a large car, a late-model gas guzzler from the seventies, shiny and well-maintained.
The man washing it didn't see me at first. He was tall and slender, his chest and stomach hard and smooth. He was wearing a baseball cap, thongs on his feet and a pair of denim cutoffs, and that was it.
I looked more closely and saw an appetizing sight. The dark tip of his cock was peeking out of one leg of his shorts.
At that moment the man raised his head and caught sight of me standing in the shadows. He gave me a long, frank stare. I felt the heat rise in my own body and travel down to my crotch. My own cock stiffened in my pants and I cupped it in my hand.
The man continued rinsing the soap off his car, every so often casting another glance in my direction. I stood, rubbing myself, letting him know I was interested and waiting.
Finally, the timer beeped and the stream from the hose dribbled to a halt. The man in the stall hung it up and turned toward the driver side of his car. He opened the door as if to get in, and my heart sank. Was he just another cockteaser?
Just then, the driver turned to face me, his body partially hidden by the open door, his feet visible underneath. A smile slowly spread across his face. His shorts dropped to the ground around his ankles.
No one else was around. I walked rapidly forward and around the open door of the car. He stood, naked, his cock rising from his dark blond bush. I closed my right fist around it, a satisfying handful, and looked him in the eye for the first time.
Neither of us said a word as I stroked him to full erection. I opened my mouth, letting him see the tip of my tongue, and he nodded. I knelt, grasped his thighs, and began to suck, hard and intensely, moving my head back and forth, tasting the salty precum flowing into my mouth.
I heard his breathing quicken and deepen. He grasped the sides of my head and began to fuck my face, the cock banging the back of my throat. Between thrusts I quickly gasped in air, trying not to choke on this faceful of sex flesh. My hands roved to his hard, narrow butt, the muscles working as he continued to thrust into my mouth.
