A Plumber ASSists The Marine And The Judge During Sequestration

Guys, everyone makes their own decisions. Most of us think we’re informed and intelligent. We don’t advocate anyone’s behavior but our own, particularly breaking isolation during this time of COVID-19, and fucking bareback. What we do is ours, and we hope you enjoy our sexcapades vicariously here.;

I haven’t posted in quite a while – having a teenage son and my company expanding wildly, both seem to have squeezed out writing up our sexcapades. We haven't lacked for FUN when we could fit it in, but writing those sex adventures up never seems to make the top of the priorities. But regardless of my lack of time to write, I’ve been enjoying all of those of you who contribute here very much. And having said that, we’ll remind you that our gratification here is neither without cost nor without effort, and Bjorn deserves props for keeping this going for us. Support GayDemon, and also give Bjorn some love!

We came back from the Mall yesterday to an ear piercing squeal when we got out of the car. Okay, not ear piercing, not exactly, but the pump that circulates water through the pipes in the house was making a terrible noise. We shut it off, and we pondered what to do.

Sure, we have plumbers, but we don’t want “outsiders” in now, in this time of isolation, particularly when we’ve not only got our boy home from school, but two of his friends who are “refugees” (their parents are in Spain for work) with him. But I also don’t want to waste tons of water running it until the hot water gets there, and we’re all washing our hands constantly. Funny that we’re washing our hands compulsively, when we’ve only been cooped up together. But we are.

I devised an entry through the outdoor basement door, a disinfecting protocol for after the plumber left, and we called. The owner of the company — whom we know . . . in the biblical sense, as he was once a playmate of ours — was the one who returned the call. He surprised us when he said his business is slammed, as a lot of others weren’t working, and he was feeling the extra need with his guys. So we were prepared for disappointment. But then he got to business, asked the model of the pump, some questions about the electrical specs, and magically he said he had the pump in stock. Then he surprised us even further by offering to do the job himself.

It was a strange moment. All of a sudden, it was do we let someone in our house after weeks of restriction and all the debate we’d had about just waiting to have the pump fixed. We’d even talked about juryrigging one of the pumps from the guesthouse or poolhouse as a compromise, but we knew those were tiny by comparison and would probably burn out or not do the job throughout this big old place my extravagant husband had thought necessary to build.

Robert, the plumbing contractor, waited during our muted conversation and deliberation that had gone far longer than we’d intended and asked if he’d lost us. We sort of snapped out of it and told him we were there. He said he was two thirds finished working out at home, would finish, shower and go by his shop to pick up the replacement pump. Jim and I both told him not to bother showering unless he had somewhere else to go — he was going to get dirty anyway, doing the work. And we wouldn’t be down there, in the basement equipment room, so who cared? Robert mistook the comment and said, “And I don’t think even if I had been around anyone in the past two weeks, which I’ve avoided like we’re talking here, and even if I was carrying the virus, which I’m not, I’m pretty sure you two inhaling my sweat after I’m gone and doing whatever it inspires you to do wouldn’t put anyone at risk!”

We laughed at his assumption. Hell, why didn’t we think of it? And we were set. We let the boys in on the plan, reminded them if they went to the basement to the gym to stay on that end of the house, and that was that.

About an hour later Robert was there and at work. Almost immediately he called from the basement, probably not knowing he was calling to the other end of the basement, as we were working out. There was a problem with the fitting — something about a joint and the valve, and that had probably caused the pump to fail over time, as it was causing resistance in the flow. Okay, whatever. He was snapping pics and sending them, which wasn’t necessary anyway, but he’s conscientious and thorough that way. Unfortunately he’s a terrible photographer . . . and he doesn’t have an iPhone, so FaceTime wasn’t an immediate option. I finally confirmed he hadn’t been around anyone, restated that we’d been holed up, too, and we left our home gym and went through the basement to where he was, in the equipment room.

We were both shirtless and sweat-soaked, carrying towels. We’ve been hitting the home gym doubly hard during the sequestration — for our physical health during a time of confinement, but for our mental health, too. When we got into the equipment room and rounded to where the plumbing area is, Rob started to explain and turned at the same time. He stopped mid sentence. “FUCK! Tease a starving man with steak, why dontcha?” he said, his eyes devouring us hungrily.

“We were just working out,” I offered lamely, because what else would two sweaty men in workout trunks and sneakers have been doing?!

“Why has it been so long since you men used me?” Rob asked, surprising both of us as he idly rubbed his fat basket in his jeans.

“Are we talking fucking here or our pump?” I asked, leaving that door WIDE open, though unintentionally . . . I think.

“I’d much better like it if you two studs pumped me!” Rob asserted unashamedly, unbuttoning the button on his jeans and putting his fingers on his zipper.

“WAIT!” Jim shouted, and Rob’s head snapped to face him.

When Jim didn’t say anything else, Rob proceeded to unzip as he spoke again. “You guys are lucky bastards to have eachother,” he said, opening his fly. His lush blond pubes, now apparent below the hem of his long sleeved tshirt, made it apparent he was commando. “I haven’t been with anyone since January,” he continued, fishing out his hardening cock and balls all in one motion.

“You’re still on PrEP?” I asked. Jimmy’s head snapped toward me.

“Tell me you don’t want to, and we’re outta here,” I said to him, but I also gestured with my eyes and head to his shorts, which were noticeably tighter in front than they had been.

“I, uh . . . “

Rob continued the argument by shimmying out of his jeans and pushing them down over his very well developed bubble butt, turned and bent over. “Clean as a whistle and sweaty as hell. Just like you like it, sirs!“

I put my hand on Jimmy’s hot, hairy ass, letting my finger go up his trunks leg and pushed at his own sweaty hole. He moved back into my probing digit, and I knew I had him. “This is going to have to be a spitjob — no lube down here!” I told the plumber.

His eyes rolled back a little. “Fuuuuck yes!” he growled and then recovered and started kicking off his shoes and getting his jeans off while I shut the equipment room door and bolted it.

The advantage of the equipment room is it’s always very warm in there from the heat the equipment generates. In the summer the exhaust fans kick in when and if it gets too hot, but that’s way hotter than the usual semi-sauna temp it was in there today.

I suppose I should describe Rob. First, and most importantly, he’s a former SEAL. He’s a hero of epic proportion, despite being of small proportion in his stature. At about 5’7”, he’s got a gymnast’s build, with exceptionally wide shoulders, a very muscular, hairy torso that tapers to about a 28” waist. His quads strain his jeans, and his corded arms and huge bi’s, tri’s and melon shoulders all match. Rob’s blond — very blond, unlike yours truly’s dirty blond. He keeps his head still in a high and tight, and he trims The fine, translucent hair all over his torso enough to almost be able to tell. And his eyes are an almost Daniel Craig blue, very intense.

“C’mon, men, I really need it!” he moaned, having shucked his shirt and now in nothing but his thick work socks on the concrete tile floor. He stood rubbing his by then rock hard cock — close to if not 7” very thick inches and cut, but not butchered — with his big, hairy bag swaying with his strokes.

Apparently Jim had made his decision. Without any encouragement required, he took the few steps toward Rob. “Take his shorts off!” I ordered.

Rob complied, though with his own approach. He grabbed his jeans, wadded them in front of Jimmy and knelt on them carefully. I recognized the signs of a knee problem — have wrestled with my own most of the past ten years. He leaned forward and put his hands on Jim’s own enviable and desirable ass — which gave me a moment’s pause! — and then leant in and rubbed his face into Jimmy’s bulging crotch. “Mmmmmm,” he moaned as he rubbed his face slowly against the long length of him.

I was enjoying the show. Jimmy looked at me and grinned, which made a fireball flash through me. Then he mouthed, “I fuckn love you!” and blew me a kiss. I admit it — this man owns my heart and every part of me, and he can ignite and melt me just like that.

“Get my husband’s fucking shorts off, NOW!” I barked at the bitch who was wallowing a bit too long in my trough! “You’re here to get PUMPed and take our loads, nothing more.”

“Sir, yes sir!” he barked back reflexively. He had Jim’s shorts off, and over Jim’s big sneakers in a flash. He paused, gazing longingly at Jimmy’s filthy jockstrap, which was distended maximally over his protruding cockhead. I nodded the permission he sought. “Thank you, sir!” he replied enthusiastically, and he leant in close enough to take a DEEP whiff, his eyes rolling back and closing as he pulled the strap off my husband. “OH FUCK! You smell so manly and goooooooooooooood!”

“He’s first in that filthy cunt of yours, so get that knob good and slimy . . . or don’t, if you’re in the mood to have that slutty hole of yours ripped open.

Rob didn’t hesitate. “SIR, YES SIR!” he very nearly shouted and dove on Jimmy’s huge knob and long shaft.

Jim reached up and took hold of a conduit run for balance, never breaking eye contact with me. For his part, the bitch was looking up at Jimmy’s distracted eyes as he dutifully worked about two thirds of his big rod into his mouth and throat. When he reached up and grabbed Jim’s oversized balls, Jimmy moaned, “Oh YEAH!” he reached with one hand, clamped it on Rob’s head and began to skullfuck him.

My husband has a bit over 10”. Even at 6’7” it looks as huge as it is. Straight as an arrow, with a nicely flanged helmet head and big nuts swinging below, he’s an impressive hunk of manhood everywhere, but especially there.

As Jim skullfucked our plumber bitch and held my gaze I realized that I could watch him forever. Early on when we were together — I think it was our third year — he confessed that he fantasized about me fucking other men. I was taken aback, and I was stupidly afraid that it meant what I’d always feared would happen, that my movie star handsome, hung, rich and well heeled husband was figuring out that he could do so much better than a poor, dumb jarhead. After the very first time, though, when he showed me afterward exactly HOW much he’d enjoyed it — and nearly broke my cock in the process — I let go of that doubt. But it still took this dumb jarhead a LONG time to really GET the pleasure he got from watching me. I finally figured it out when I watched him for not the first time. The OH DUH moment is far from foreign to me, but that one hit me like an especially large ton of bricks.

Jimmy’s ripped quads and glutes rippled, as did his arms and ‘bliques as he pumped into that bitch. Rob was sputtering and gagging but hadn’t tapped out even for a moment’s breath. He just yanked on Jim’s bag, which just served to stoke him more.

And I watched and grinned back at my husband as he enjoyed himself with me. I hadn’t even taken my cock out, despite its painful confinement in my very tight trunks and jock. I hadn’t thought about it until Jim glanced down and then back up and licked his lips and waggled his eyebrows. The glint in his eye, the cock of his head, I could have shot off then if I’d let myself.

”ENOUGH lube! Get that cunt in the air!” I commanded, stalking over to the two of them.

I grabbed Jimmy’s neck roughly and slammed my lips against his. We moaned together as we devoured eachother and ground into eachother. “I want you to tear this bitch’s hole open!” I told him, slurred because we were lips to lips.

“Oh FUCK YEAH!” Rob shouted, now bent over, with his hands holding his hairy melon checks apart.

“For you, babe,” Jimmy said into my mouth, and we finished off our kiss.

I went over to Rob, bent over and swiped my tongue up his sweaty crack. When I got to his tight pucker, I pushed in hard until my tongue was inside, earning a long yowl from him. That was it — all I’d wanted was a taste, and after getting my tongue as far in as I could and a few swirls and stabs, I was out. “Fuck that’s a tasty fuckhole, Rob!” I commended him. Then I spit on his hole and moved aside. “There, that’s for starters.”

“Oh man I need this! No matter what I say or do, don’t stop. Just fuck the shit out of me!”

“You act like you have a choice, BITCH!” I said, the “bitch” coinciding with a HARD slap dead on his left buttcheek.

The bitch started as the smack and yelped, but he held position, ready and wanting.

Jim got behind him and spit a big wad onto his exposed rosebud. He started to put his finger there to work the bitch’s cunt open, but our plumber had other ideas. “PLEASE, just fuck it into me. I need it SO fuckn bad!”

I don’t know what got into me – maybe it’s all the being shut in that was coming to the forefront, but I laughed . . . like seriously, a guffaw into a heads-back roaring laugh. And it’s not like I’ve never seen a bitch desperate for cock before – shit, that just happens when two horny men get together, they want eachother at that primal level. But I was suddenly laughing my ass off, standing there with my cock hard as steel, straining the seams of my workout shorts and the filthy pouch of the stinking jockstrap underneath.

Jimmy looked at me with an amused but what the fuck look. “The bitch—“ I had to stop because I was laughing too hard. I took a breath, but it was difficult to think of anything other than Jim’s huge, blunt, flared cockhead smeared in his own snot as it grazed the hairy pucker in front of him. I could also see that Rob was doing his best to look back without moving his body away from his near impalement on my husband’s cock.

I took a breath. I got behind Jimmy and smacked his ass to cover up my laughs. “JUST FUCK HIM!” I barked.

I stepped aside and saw Jim plant his hands on the bitch’s hips and SHOVED in.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! OHHOLYFUCKNSHIT!” Rob yelled, and he threw his hands out and braced himself on the non recirculating pipes, clutching at open ends where he’d removed the pump . . . and found the valve blockage that brought us in here.

I couldn’t help but laugh again – the bitch’s pipes wouldn’t be blocked after Jimmy got through railing him. And railing him he was, Jim’s groin and quads slapping loudly against the bitch’s bountiful ass. Maybe it was just the acoustics . . . but no, it wasn’t when I gazed at his glutes flexing as he drove in again and again, the moans going to yells and back to moans again as he pulled out of Rob’s cunt, before he SLAMMED IN again.

Suddenly I wasn’t laughing. My nuts had revved my brain, at least the lizard part of it. I stalked around Jim’s pistoning ass and roughly yanked Rob’s hands off the plumbing and freed my cock and balls. I shoved his head down toward his target.

“OH FUCK – I – forgot how – mmmmmph – fuckn BIG that – ooommmph – fuckn thing was.” I shoved his neck down, and he dutifully took my engorged cockhead in. Suddenly his grunts and moans were all muffled around him struggling with my cock. I pushed harder, until he was choking and gasping, his teeth scraping my shaft and head. “FUCK!” he yelled, having yanked back after I smacked his face HARD, with a loud SLAP. “WHAT THE FUCK, DUDE?!?!”

I shoved him roughly back onto my cock, used both hands to hold his head and began shoving harder and harder, farther and farther until I couldn’t any more. The upturn on my fat hog and him bent over taking my husband’s pounding made it virtually impossible for me to force my fat fuckrod down his throat. ALMOST.

I took a firm grip on the cocksucker bitch’s head and moved it enough that I could SHOVE myself past his point of resistance and POP into his throat. He was trying to scream, and his face was contorted, even though he wasn’t in distress yet. But I knew how to manage a cocksucker and waited until he was getting frantic and then pulled HARD to get my knob past the opening to his throat and pulled all the way out.

He gasped hard and long and then panted while still grunting with every determined thrust from my husband behind him. “FUCK! GGGGRRRRRRRRRMMMPPPPPHHHHHH! DUDE!” he exclaimed, still redfaced. “Do that again?” Jimmy smirked at me

“Get on my fuckn cock,” I answered, shoving him onto me again. “And this time, you fuckn take it yourself! Don’t make me force you.”

Rob was a quick study. He cocked his head, so to speak, and, not so easily, got me into his throat again. And this time, he didn’t fight it until he through he couldn’t get himself off my, couldn’t get me past his opening again. I helped him out and pulled myself out of him, and we went through a similar gasping, panting session, before he attacked my cock again.

Once the bitch got more confident and got more aggressive with my cock, I looked back to Jimmy, who was beginning to grimace just a bit through his grin, watching us. I bent forward, reached out and found one of his nips – the left one, the one that is more sensitive – and his lips at the same time. I felt his building climax through the increased tension in his pecs and his breathing.

The bitch was grunting harder around my cock shoved in and out of his throat more and more as Jim’s thrusts became more frenzied. I was working both nips, and I knew I had him full throttle barreling toward the edge. As his entire musculature that wasn’t propelling his cock into Rob’s cunt tensed, I sucked his face and squeezed, pulled and rolled his nips harder and felt him moaning into my mouth as he finally shoved HARD into Rob and began to pump out his nuttload.

“AWWWWFUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK!” Rob yelled. “I CAN FUCKN FEEL IT! FUCK YEAH!”

I shoved him back onto my cock, and just as I did, I felt him spasm and felt a spray on my ankles. “Did you just fucking CUM?” I demanded, smaking his face again. He was too gone in the moment – as was my husband – to react to the slap, or to my admonishment. Jimmy was planted in him, his neck muscles finally relaxing just a bit, signaling the end of his delivery. ;

I shoved the bitch off my cock, and that got a reaction from him. “What the—“ I pulled him off Jim and whirled him around, shoved his head back down as I lined up and SHOVED HARD into his sloppy cunt. He was opened, after Jimmy’s fucking, but not opened enough for my fat knob. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” he shouted, just as I forced myself past his pucker, and the force of my incursion took me balls deep. “HOLYFUCKNHELLGODDAMN!” the bitch squealed.

He was squirming, but he was trying to get comfortable, not trying to get away. His exclamations went to begging and encouragement, and I went to high speed, just pumping him hard and fast, intent on adding my load to the two already spent.

“Let him suck you clean!” I ordered Jim.

Jimmy just laughed and shook his head. But then he positioned himself, and our bitch plumber gobbled his slimy cock hungrily, again muffling his cries and making them muffled grunts and moans.

Rob took the fucking I dished out and fucked back, all the while sucking Jim’s cock. But when it became obvious that I wasn’t nearing the payload, Jimmy got behind me and grabbed my swinging nuts and began yanking on them. He also bent forward and began kissing me behind my ear, which he’s often observed is as responsive on me as his p spot is in him.

That took me from cruising to overdrive, and I slammed Rob’s cunt in a frenzy. “OH FUCK THAT THING CAN’T GET MORE FUCKN HUGE. I’m gonna fuckn break apart!” Rob shouted, this time finding a shelf to grasp to keep himself from getting shoved through the wall.

My nuts were finally exploding. “FUCKN TAKE IT FUCKER!” I growled and planted my full 9 ½ inches inside him with one last, tailbone-slamming impact, and I began to blast my nutt.

“GOD I FUCKN FEEL IT FILLING ME, fuckn flooding my guts man!” he yelled. “OH FUCK GUYS, FUCK YEAH, MIX IT IN MY ASS!”

Jimmy was still kissing my neck when I got my wits, when I'd drained my nuts and pulled out of the plumber and took some long, deep breaths.

“Fix what you need to,” Jimmy told him. “We’re going to go shower.” And he led me toward the door and back toward the bathroom attached to our gym. A shower wasn’t all he wanted . . . but that’s another story for another day.

Remember, guys, this site doesn't support itself. Support Gaydemon, and send your thanks to our wonderful, sexy host, Bjorn. And don't hesitate to email us -- always love to hear from anyone.