I thought after the military, I’d get a good job in the electronics industry. Nope, wasn’t happening. Evidently no one needs a guy who can fix telemeters in army tanks.
So, I took a job in a mine as an ordinary laborer. From what I could tell, things hadn’t changed in 100 years, at least not in my mine. I did a late shift, and we all came out of the mine dusty and dirty at 2 in the morning. But one thing was certainly different: We had showers. We didn’t have to go home dirty. I figured out right away to keep a separate change of work clothes for the mine, and my clean street clothes in a locker.
Now, this shower was not like what you might imagine. In fact, my first day was absolutely shocking. In the showers, although the guys were tired, and I was especially tired from not being used to the work, I was amused to see all the guys carrying on, telling jokes, laughing, just good old buddies having a great time. But after a couple of minutes, I began to notice the really crazy part. Some of the guys were soaping up each others backs, lower legs, and even their butts. My first thought was that was just way too gay for me. But the shocking part was just beginning, as I saw one guy turn around, and he had a full erection as his coworker was soaping up his upper thighs. Seeing that, I had a surprising little tingle in my own lower stomach, and lower down, too, if you know what I mean.
And then, his buddy started soaping up his hard penis. I mean, he was literally stroking the guy with a soapy hand! As I looked around, even though the large, open shower room was kind of dark, I was amazed to see similar things happening through the room. In one case, a big heavyset miner was on his knees giving a short skinny guy a blow job. Really!
I was under a corner shower head, and no one came near me. I was glad. First, I had this notion, drilled into me in the army as much as marching had been drilled in, that anything remotely like ‘gay’ was just wrong. I had wondered about that in a way, intellectually, but went with the flow. I mean, really, what’s wrong with gay, and for that matter, where do you draw the line? My dad kisses me on the cheek sometimes. That’s not gay, right? I saw a couple of European guys who were holding hands, and it sickened me, until I noticed that their wives and kids were walking right along with them, and the two women were holding hands too. You go to the doctor. He feels your balls looking for lumps. Your dick puffs up a bit. Is that gay? I certainly hope not.
So, I sure as hell didn’t want any part of the shenanigans going on in that shower room. I even wondered if I’d have to quit that job because it was just too weird. But then, too, I was dog-tired from my first day. I wouldn’t have had the energy to do anything. Hey, what was I thinking? I wouldn’t want to do any of that stuff, right?
I’ll bet you know where this is going. You are correct! I kept the job. I needed the money. I talked with the guys. Most were older than me. So far as I could tell, I was the only one who wasn’t married, and evidently they were not only married, but happily so. I got to know some of them as friends. I laughed at their jokes. We were all for the same sports teams.
The days turned into weeks. The scene in the shower after our shift was always the same. Soaping each others backs. Mild masturbation. I mean, most of them didn’t go so far as to ejaculate, but I did see that, too, from time to time. And, the occasional blow job. I saw some guys joking around about anal intercourse, but they seemed to be pretending. I never saw any kissing. The situation started to normalize. I didn’t think of any of them as gay. In a short while, I quit thinking of this shower activity as gay. It just was what it was. I didn’t participate. I kept to my corner shower, and everyone was respectful. They seemed to just know not to bother me with their silliness.
Then one day, Mikey, tall, black-bearded like a pirate, standing under the shower head next to me, and who I was starting to think of as a good friend, started soaping up the back of my neck and shoulders. At first, I didn’t really notice. When I did notice, his big warm hands felt good, but also alarming. I wanted to flinch, back away, and, I sadly admit, I wanted to yell and claim that I was not gay. I wanted that understood. Fortunately, I’m not an idiot, and kept my mouth shut. Instead, I figured, “When in Rome…” and let him keep doing that. It did feel good. He kept it up for a good two minutes, working his way down my back, and to the top of my butt. He then knelt on the floor, and soaped up my legs, both hands one each leg, in long strokes up from my ankles to my upper thighs. Damn, that felt good.
Suddenly, to my horror, I realized I had grown an erection! I wanted to run out of there. But I couldn’t. I’d have to squeeze between a couple dozen tightly spaced wet guys. And, I figured making a fuss would be more embarrassing even than my current situation.
Mikey saw it and asked very simply? “OK?” I knew what he meant, and couldn’t speak. My throat was in a knot. My body was shivering, even though the water was warm. My knees were weak. All I could do was nod.
He came around in front of me, cupping my balls in one warm paw, and stroking my soapy hard penis with the other. I came in an instant, and nearly fell over. It was one of the strongest orgasms of my life. After a moment, he quietly asked, “Are you doing OK Kent?”
I assured him that I was not only OK, but entirely blissed out. I reached over to return the favor, but Mikey backed away, saying, “No need, maybe next time.”
I had a lot to think about when I got home. My date with Emily, my new girlfriend, who also worked a late shift, but in an assembly plant, wasn’t until 6am. We were going to walk in the park together at daylight. As I reviewed what had happened, I became terribly horny, and just had to jerk off, coming a second time in a single day. Later, I had a bit of trouble getting hard for Emily. I told her what had happened in the shower, and all she said was, “I know.”
I was surprised. She said all the wives quietly tell the young women they just have to accept it. It’s part of the miner’s culture. Emily encouraged me to continue the activities with the guys, saying she wouldn’t mind, as long as I told her all about it.
There we were in bed, and I started telling her the details of what had happened, and the funny thing is, I started getting fully erect again. Emily, too, became juicy hearing the juicy details – pardon the pun.
Well, that was a year ago. Emily and I are an item. I think she may be pregnant. If she is, I will marry her. Hell, I’ll marry her either way, and I’m sure she’s in favor of that too. I’m one of the guys in the mine in every sense, participating in the showers with all the other men. I know that many people hate their work, and I probably would too, except I put in my eight hours enjoyably, just thinking about what’s going to happen at the end of almost every shift. I so look forward to it that I miss working on the weekends.
[My client, who is still working as a miner, is also studying to start his own coaching business. He let me take a picture for inclusion. The picture is the very dick that got soaped up by his coworker Mikey, and which has been the source of great joy in the group shower room on hundreds of occasions.]