Happy Meat E1 | My coworkers and I compared cock sizes at the back of the restaurant

Everyone is over the age of 18

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If we were to be honest, fast food joints are usually run by college-age people and maybe with an older manager. I say college-age because none of my coworkers are actually in college. If we were, we probably wouldn’t be here.

I would like to be studying instead, but I needed to help out at home and apparently making minimum wage flipping burgers is too much money to qualify for student financial aid. So, fuck me but I'm rich in burgers and poor in education. My only option is to keep working while saving up enough to quit. 

We do shifts at work, and a lot of new hires come and go, so it's not really worth trying to be friends with them. The two other guys that have been stable in the kitchen are Silas and Dante. Silas has been here longer than I have, and Dante was hired around the same time I was. 

Like I said, we don't always work the same shift, but this particular night we were. There was some concert happening, so everyone else took the night off to go. I didn't ask, but I imagined Silas and Dante took the shift for the same reasons as I did. 1) Needed the money. 2)Thought it was going to be an easy shift if everyone in town was at the concert. 

“We doing fuck all tonight,” Dante says, hanging up his apron as soon as the manager leaves. 

“You didn't come to work at all, man. Nobody comes to put a burger together in a white shirt,” Silas says with a laugh. He takes the ugly hat we’re supposed to wear and shakes out his dark locks. 

“Gotta show off the gains.” Dante flexes in the metallic refrigerator’s reflection. His black skin, in contrast to the white, hides none of the creases of the shirt hugging his arms. “I'm sick of that fuckass uniform. All my clothes smell like grease.” 

I agreed with Dante, but I knew that Silas was already aware of that. I can always tell when Silas was on the schedule because I can smell his cologne in the kitchen before I see him. When we do get off work together, he gives himself a couple of spritz before he leaves. He says it's the Latino in him. 

“If there's time to stand, there's time to clean.” That's the motto that our manager tries to drill in us all the time. To keep my hands busy, I half-heartedly sweep the floors while the two other guys sat in the customer seating. 

“Are you serious, man?” Dante puts his feet up on the table. “Oli, fuck this shit man, they pay us peanuts.” 

“I know,” I say. “I'm just not good at sitting still.” 

“Yeah, but you stressing me out,” Dante says and grabs the broom as I walk past. “You know what? Silas, cough up the goodies. We'll pay you back, you cheap ass fucker.” 

With my hand still on the broom, I watch Silas pull out a silver flask from his pocket. 

“Lock the doors, Oli.” I stumble back as Dante releases the broom and reaches for the flask. He unscrews the top and takes a whiff of its contents. “That's what I'm talking about!” 

I locked the front door, and then the three of us went to the back door, where we usually took our break. 

“Oh fuck.” Dante coughs after a small swig. “You Mexicans are wild.” 

“I'm from Colombia, asswipe,” Silas says as he takes the flask back and hands it to me. With the two pairs of eyes on me, I take a small sip. “And that's not how we do it in Colombia.” I tilt my head back and swallow more of what I think is straight vodka. “There we go!” A hand patting my chest in this position makes me cough some of it back up.

The embers in my chest grow as Silas drinks from the flask without problem. 

“You been buzzed every shift?” Dante asks from my right side. 

“Helps me forget that I'm in hell,” Silas says from my other side. “Makes dealing with the bitch customers easier too.”

“Some of them mad cute though.” Dante reaches over me for another drink. “I like em a little crazy.” 

“Nah, fuck that shit. I got my woman.” Silas reaches into his tight pants and pulls out his wallet. Whipping it open like it's a police badge, he flaunts the photo of his girlfriend to us. 

“DAMN PLAYA!” Dante nearly chokes again, reaching over me once again to hold the wallet in place. “She a baddie!” 

“Oh yeah,” my Latino coworker says. “She’s my heart.” 

“Gotta get through those puppies to get to her heart.” Dante holds two hands up his chest. “Damn. You're lucky you get to bang that every night.” 

“Nah, she's still in Colombia. Once I save up enough for a place for the two of us, she'll move over.” 

“The fuck?” Dante says. “When was the last time you saw her?” 

“A couple months ago. She's visiting in a couple of weeks though. That's why I asked Oli to take my shifts.” Silas knocks me on the shoulder and offers me the flask again. This time, it doesn't burn on the way down, but it stokes the warm flames inside me.

“Oh, it's going to get right down to the nasty then,” our black coworker chuckles. “Well, you gonna last 30 seconds flat.” 

“Hey motherfucker, we keep the respect around here, alright?” 

Dante holds his palms towards Silas. “No disrespect, man, I'm just saying if you haven't fucked in months, it's going to be fast.” 

“Whatever, man. I always cum fast the first time. Ain't no rule in the book saying that's the ending. I eat her out beforehand and make sure she finishes before I get mine.” 

“My man.” Dante shows his respect with a dap in front of me again, and I'm compelled to do the same thing. 

Ah fuck… that's not… okay. Silas looks at me funny as our fingers awkwardly intertwine for a second. 

“You finish on those big tits?” 

“Nah, always inside,” Silas says. “Fill her up good before she gets back on the plane, you know what I mean? Maybe have a little Silas by the time she comes back again.” 

“Let me see her again.” Dante whistles when Silas opens his wallet again. “Must be hell of a dick to make a woman like that stay.” 

“Small but mighty,” Silas says. “She love her some of that curve.” He humps upwards and his hips move in a way that's pretty convincing. “By the third load, I would've made her finish at least once.” 

“Three?! Fuck!” Dante shouts in my ear. “Shit, I don't even nut most of the time. Them bitches all say they want a big black cock until it's inside them.” 

“Blame your ancestors.” 

Dante shakes his fist jokingly at the sky, and then suddenly the two pairs of eyes land on me again. It feels just as hot as the vodka is bubbling inside me. 

“You've gotten your dick wet, right, Oli?” Dante asks.

“Oh, for sure. Skinny white guys like him always got a horse cock,” Silas says. “Probably bigger than yours.” 

“Um,” I say. 

Yeah I've had sex…

…but not with women. 

They wouldn't understand. 

“Man probably has bitches lining up to take his big pink sausage!” Silas jokes. 

“I'm telling you, women don't like a big one as much as you think they do,” Dante says, and his muscular arm wraps around my shoulder. “Isn't that right? How big is it? You got some black in you?”  

“Uh…it’s decent,” I start sweating. “I need to go piss.” 

I stood up, and I saw the lightning quick eye contact between Dante and Silas. I know that look because I've done pranks like this with my friends too. I just couldn't react fast enough. 

With two pairs of hands on either side of my uniform, my pants and underwear came down at a shocking speed. The cool breeze blew at my private area as if to add insult to injury. 

“HOLY FUCK!” Silas exclaims loudly. “DAMN!” 

“Damn,” Dante says approvingly, looking up at me with a nod of respect. 

“Skinny white boys, I'm telling ya. Jesus Christ. Is that hard or soft?” 

If you keep getting closer, you're about to find out. The natural response of blood flowing into my exposed junk makes it twitch and both my coworkers explode in cheers. 

“It looks like mine,” Dante says. “Like a raw pink version of it.” 

“Man, if Oli here has a bigger cock than you, that would be fucking wild.” 

It would be wild. Dante is a whole head taller than I am, and has more muscle mass in one arm than I do in my whole body. 

“Let's find out.”