Patrick and the Hunky Blonde Construction Worker
This is largely from Patrick’s perspective. It’s his side of this period of time between when he and Josh opened up the marriage to when everything changed
Patrick Ryan is in heaven. At home, he has a loving husband-Josh-who loves and trusts him enough to understand that after several years of Patrick being a monogamous total top the versatile guy had other itches he needed to scratch. Sometimes you need more than your right hand and porn. Josh understood this and suggested opening up the marriage with some very set ground rules. No repeats, never at home, never at someone else’s home. Had to be a hotel. Just an infrequent scratching of the itch. Both were allowed to play. But after a rough encounter with a handsome Persian guy, Josh quietly decided he wasn’t gonna pursue that openness. He didn’t need it. But he let his husband have his outlet. Hell, it actually worked out to Josh‘s benefit because when Patrick came back to him, he could always tell that he had had an encounter. His husband became a ravenous Hulk. Couldn’t get enough of Josh. Exactly the way Josh loved it. They’re sex, their lovemaking, was always a 10. But after one of these encounters, it became a hot 12. Unbelievable. Mind blowing. The reconnection and intimacy was off the charts. They didn’t discuss it, ever. Didn’t need to. Total trust between the Husbands. They would always come back to one another.
So this hulking Scot-Irish Viking Patrick is in the midst of being tossed around the bed by this gorgeous masculine hunk of a construction worker named Clint. Think Robert Redford in the '70s movie Jeremiah Johnson or Alan Ritchson of Reacher if he lost his razor for a few days. (Internet search for the very hot pics) A total God. Gorgeous, light blonde hair leading into a darker blonde beard. Hairy chest, arms and legs. He’s never heard of manscaping. Patrick loves that because neither has he. Real men don’t trim shit. Patrick is quietly happy that the trend seems to be ebbing. He even convinced his husband to stop trimming when they started dating, not that there was much there to begin with. But still, hairy or smooth just be natural.
After they hungrily 69 one another. Clint picks Patrick up, who is stunned at the construction worker's strength. He lays him on his back, puts his beefy paws on the Viking's hard pecs and pushes his head inside the Ginger’s ass. He doesn’t thrust, but he sure as hell doesn’t go slow. It is all forward motion with direct eye contact never breaking between the two Alpha men. When Clint finally bottoms out, Patrick is in fucking heaven. Patrick has to work to catch his breath when he realizes Clint has gotten past his second ring. And Clint could tell based on the full body shiver and wide-eyed, startled look the Viking gave him. Clint smiles that delicious, naughty smirk of his. Then he leans in and hungrily kisses his prize while he begins to fuck him slowly and methodically. Their hungry lips never break contact as the kiss grows rougher and more passionate. Clint begins to piston fuck Patrick. They break from the kiss because Patrick has to literally hang on to Clint’s shoulders to steady himself. His eyes roll back in his head from pleasure as Clint repeatedly hits his prostate. Even with the condom it feels so intimate. Like there was no barrier. Patrick starts to really shake and Clint understands the signs. Clearly this man, this sex machine, has made many men, and likely women, cum just from his fucking, without touching themselves at all. Patrick wasn’t touching himself either as he held on for dear fucking life. His eyes grow wide and his breath more wild. When Patrick finally begins to shoot, his ass tightens around Clint and Clint yells FUCK, and erupts with fury, filling the rubber to the brink. But if Patrick thought he was gonna get any relief from this deep dick down, he was mistaken. Clint keeps fucking him as their breathing starts to go back to normal. Clint fucks him slowly now, and he leans down, firmly holds his cheek— not like a gentle lover, but more like a man telling another man what a great job he did. The energy between them always masculine and alpha. The bottom doesn’t have to be a sub, which is not the dynamic Patrick wants, even when he bottoms. Clint seems to know that. That’s why the encounter was so fucking hot. The two men make out— deep and passionate, almost gratitude for what they’ve given one another. They both get up wordlessly. Just grunts here and there as they regain their composure. Stealing glances at one another. But never stopping from the business of getting cleaned up and their clothes on. Yet this encounter definitely lingers for both of them.
At home, Patrick showers, thinking about the epic fuck. Rubs his beefy, hairy body. Cleans every orifice. He needs to wash away the scent and any evidence of the gorgeous construction worker that just bent him over backwards, hung him up and put him away wet. He’s not trying to hide anything from Josh, but the respect and love he has for his husband has meant he will never ever throw it in his face. It’s just scratching an itch, right? Patrick puts on his big thick, white hotel, “daddy” robe, as Josh calls it, and sits in front of the fire on the couch, waiting for his husband to return. When Josh finally arrives, Patrick tells him a dinner plate is waiting for him if he wants it. Josh nonchalantly talks to his husband before looking at him. Mundane stuff about the day. Then he sees Patrick laying on the couch in that sexy robe. His ginger chest hair illuminated by the whiteness of the robe and the fire glow. Josh stops talking, puts down his briefcase, and walks over to his gorgeous husband. He stands there and takes off his clothes. No words are exchanged, just knowing smiles. Patrick opens his robe and the little spoon gets inside it with the big spoon, and they cuddle in front of the fire. They exchange soft kisses and caresses before Patrick starts to kiss his neck in earnest, with more urgency, rubbing his hardening cock against his husband's gorgeous ass. Josh says he should get the lube, but Patrick pulls some out of his robe pocket, smiling devilishly, slathers some on his hard cock and adds another generous amount to Josh’s jock swimmer ass. Patrick says he needs him. He needs his husband. Right now, right here. No foreplay. He’s not rough, but he’s not exactly gentle. He’s firm, direct, masculine. A man that knows what he wants and right now he wants his husband‘s ass. Josh revels in this energy. This is why he fell in love with the gorgeous Viking. Patrick breaks the first ring but, with the exception of a hitched breath, there’s no pain. After years of intimacy, Josh‘s body was made for Patrick. They know every bit of each other and his ass knows every single inch of Patrick’s dick. They fuck, Patrick hugging his husband’s back tight to his own chest, while he slowly slides in and out. It’s passionate but gentle, unhurried. A husband fucking another husband. No pain, all trust, all love. Patrick cums inside his husband, hugging Josh!s smooth back to his hairy, beefy chest. Having felt his release inside him- his favorite feeling in the world- Josh releases his own load onto the edge of the white daddy robe. Neither move, they just lay by the fire as Patrick’s dick slowly withdraws from his husband’s ass. Patrick nuzzles Josh's neck and like a good protector top, cleans his guy with the robe they both wear. Total contentment, total love, total connection. But there’s something else in Patrick’s eyes. Worry. He needed this reconnection, as he can’t get the feeling of Clint inside him out of his mind.
Patrick sticks to the rules. He avoids the entrance to his office by the construction site, going out of his way to use a back entrance. The rules are one time. No repeats. After a couple weeks, he starts to get the itch again. Goes online. But doesn’t find anybody that interests him. He’s been around the block enough to know that kind of connection is rare. Patrick figures there’s five, maybe 10 mediocre fucks for every great one when you’re trolling the apps. And it’s just not interested in the mediocre ones. If he’s gonna step outside the marriage, even with permission, he wants to fully scratch his itch and go back to his husband, a better, satisfied lover.
Over dinner, Josh gives Patrick the dates his brother Jon will visit, checking in again to make sure it works for Patrick—the visit and the date. Patrick says it’s fine. Both men are a little distracted. Patrick pent up over several weeks of not scratching that itch after the most monumental dick down he ever received (as a bottom, his sex with Josh as a top is still unsurpassed), and Josh with another matter. Normally, Patrick would pick up on the tension, but given his own state, he misses the signals.
Patrick leaves work one night to find Clint sitting on the tailgate of his Ford 250 work truck with a cooler of cold cheap beers. Clint's clearly a couple in. Patrick was distracted, looking at his phone as he approached his car and was mere feet away from Clint when he looked up. His breath hitches, eyes wide. He nods and grunts a greeting. Clint returns the grunt, but with a sly smirk and hunger in his eyes. They don’t break eye contact, as much as Patrick tries to. Patrick finally breaks the spell and starts for his key fob to open his car, but Clint is already up and deftly backs Patrick aggressively against the open tailgate. Lifts him up and sets him down in one smooth motion. Clint opens Patrick’s legs, fingers entwined in the back of his ginger hair and pulls him into a deep kiss. The two men haven’t even exchanged a word beyond the grunt. Patrick shivers, his resolve dissolving. Clint’s erection through his worn work jeans is evident to Patrick. Patrick reaches down to the construction workers ass, and pulls him towards him to grind deeper. The two men seem to want to engulf the other with their hungry kisses and strong bodies. Clint breaks away, but holds Patrick’s head firmly in both his hands. He moves his forehead to Patrick’s, whispers he got the hotel room. He needs him again. Nobody’s ever done that for him. With most bottoms he has to be gentle, like he could snap them in two. But not him. Clint growls at Patrick. Being with Patrick was fucking a real man. And he needs it again. Patrick is dizzy. Clint reaches for his mouth again and kisses him, less forcefully, but just as passionately. Then he rubs his a beard against Patrick’s ear and whispers he needs him. He needs to feel him again. Now, he growls, louder. Patrick trembled but allows Clint to lead him out the parking garage entrance to the street. Once at the hotel, Clint leads a zombie, Patrick directly to the room. Clearly Clint has already checked in and paid for it. He planned this but Patrick can’t even form a coherent thought let alone put that evidence together. Once in the room, Clint strips Patrick of his corporate lawyer suit right down to his designer boxer briefs. Clint smiles lasiviously and tears them off him with his bare hands. The fact that Patrick will be going home without underwear isn’t even a thought on his mind right now. Once Patrick is totally naked. Clint opens his own arms to allow Patrick access to his own body. Patrick understands and unbutton Clint’s sleeveless flannel work shirt, brushing his sexy dark blonde chest hair with his hands. He unhitches the tool belt and it drops to the floor. Unbuttons his Levi’s and slides them down. Clint doesn’t wear underwear. Of course he doesn’t. Once naked, Clint firmly pushes Patrick on the bed. Again, there’s no foreplay, there’s no time for it. Clint needs to be inside the Viking, stat. Patrick manages enough coherence to utter one word. Condom. Clint reaches for his pants, hiding his annoyance, but he doesn’t argue. In Patrick’s fevered state he doesn’t put any of the red flags together. He had been honest with Clint the first time they hooked up that he had a husband and, while they were open, this was a one time thing and always safe. He doesn’t put it together that Clint had a condom in his pocket, had already paid for the hotel room, and was prepared to fuck Patrick bare if Patrick had allowed it. Putting those threads together was for another time when Patrick wasn't so desperate for another shot at that fantasy alpha top. Clint slips it over his hard cock and returns to Patrick. Like last time, he enters him with all forward motion. He doesn’t pound right away, he knows you don’t want your bottom to seize up. But he doesn’t go slowly either, definitely not inch then pause then another inch and pause. Clint just goes. He steadies himself by gripping Patrick’s beefy pecs and enters until he bottoms out. Both men moan in unison. Clinton leans down and kisses Patrick again while he’s slowly begins in and out, thrusting. Not gentle but not hard either. Just direct and relentless. They start to heat up, breathing into one another’s mouth again as they catch their breath, the passion overwhelming both. Clint begins to piston fuck Patrick, his expression changing as the clenching on his cock increases. Patrick feels Clint slamming his prostate, past his second ring. He won’t last long. Like the first time, Patrick wraps his arms around Clint allowing him to take him completely, Clint’s controlling every movement. Patrick just hangs on, his willing vessel. Clint grunts, and Patrick knows he's close. This drives Patrick over the edge and he clenches his ass tight as his relief spews all over his lover's torso. Ropes of cum shoot everywhere, some even lands on Clint‘s forehead. This makes Clint eyes widen, almost animalistic, as his hands grip Patrick’s beefy pecs harder, twisting his nipples. With a feral grunt,Clint erupts inside his lover. Like the first time, they seem to have a rhythm already established. Clint thrust back-and-forth into Patrick, filling the condom to the brink. Eventually Clint slows down, but doesn’t withdraw. They allow their breath to return to normal, their mouths inches from the other's. They begin to kiss, not with the urgency of pre-ejaculation, but with a calming, powerful sense of accomplishment and release. Patrick still clings to the handsome construction worker. Their hairy chests smashing together, smearing Patrick’s cum between them. It acts like a glue, keeping the two together as they make out and continue to slow fuck the remnants of Clint's load. Patrick scoops the cum from over Clint’s eye with his finger, smiles and puts it Clint’s mouth. Clint growls, so turned on at the act, and opens his mouth to suck it off.
But this time when Patrick returns home, he tries to hide the indication that he’s just been a bottom. Unlike the first time when he waited for his husband so they could fuck each other and reconnect, he just showers and acts like it's any other night. Wracked with guilt as this was a repeat. Patrick’s a damned grown man, a successful lawyer who can argue with the best of them. He wins his cases. He makes his points. How could he have lost control like that? There's supposed to be no repeats. Josh is too important to him. His marriage is too important to him.Patrick determines he must stay away from that guy.
A month later, Patrick is a little stressed knowing that Josh‘s brother is due any day now. He’s only met him a couple times and they don’t really get on. Jon is a man of very few words and he doesn’t seem to care for his younger brother‘s choice of a partner. Not rude, but certainly not warm. Patrick is also wary because of Jon’s past. He was in reform school and even spent some time in prison after he turned 18. Well, Patrick doesn’t know the whole story because Josh is quiet, for the most part about much of their teen years together, Jon is definitely not the kind of element Patrick wants around his husband.
Patrick has managed to avoid running into Clint. But as he exits the back of his building one day, the same entrance he started using to avoid Clint, Clint surprises him, standing just outside the entrance. Looking so sexy in his work clothes, that same cut off flannel, sexy dark blonde body hair erupting from the sleeves and collar. How many of those fuckers does he have? Patrick nods but continues on his way. Clint grabs his arm to stop him. Huskily, he wonders if they can talk? I really wanna see you again. Nobody does it like that for me. Patrick know what Clinton wants to do isn’t to talk. And he sets him straight. No. It was supposed to be a one off and he already broke the rules. He’s not going to do it again. His marriage means too much to him. He’s sorry. As hot as he is, and Clint should know Patrick thinks he’s a fucking God. If the circumstances were different. But not given his current situation. It can’t happen again, and Clint needs to respect that. The look In Clint's eyes is unreadable. Is it anger, sadness, lust, resentment? Or all of the above. Patrick doesn’t know, but he’s not going to find out.
It was after a particularly harried case that he and all his colleagues met at the hotel bar to celebrate their win. Patrick becomes well lubricated and wisely decides he cannot drive, so he calls a rideshare and waits outside. Unfortunately, not thinking, he’s next to the construction site where Clint and some workers are having after work beers on the backs of their pickup trucks. Clint checks his phone for the rideshare location. Dammit it’s still a few minutes out. He goes back inside the hotel lobby to wait, hoping Clint didn’t see him. But that doesn’t mean Patrick can’t secretly stare out the window watching the sexy Blonde construction worker.. He chugs down a beer, his Adam's Apple bobbing up and down so sexually. Dammit what this man does to him. Patrick checks his phone again and notes the car should be pulling up. He leaves the lobby and starts to walk out when he is grabbed from behind and pushed against the wall, partially hidden by shrubs. Clint leans in and kisses Patrick, holding the squirming man in place. He keeps kissing him, darting his tongue inside Patrick’s mouth. Owning him. Clint growls that he saw him watching him. His strong arms wrapped around him, not letting him escape. It only takes a minute or two, but Patrick relents. Lubricated from the after work drinks, he has no willpower to resist this man. Clint pulls away and leads him inside the hotel, wordlessly. At the elevator, Patrick tries to resist and turned back around, but Clint just ushered him inside the open doors. They go to the same room and begin the same dance, this now their third time. But Patrick is pretty drunk. Not only is his willpower gone, but his ability to cognitively think is impaired. Clint takes him again just as he did the other two times. It’s just as passionate, it’s just as fucking good. Maybe even better since in Patrick’s inebriated state he completely lets loose. Clint’s thick dark blonde pubes mixed with the ginger fur on Patrick’s ass, pre-cum and lube cover both. The fucking is maybe even hotter than ever. How was that possible when the other two times were so fucking good? This time when Patrick ejaculates, clenching his ass around Clint, and forcing Clint‘s own eruption he feels it. Holy fuck! Patrick get his answer now, he knows why this time is different. He can feel the ropes of Clint's cum filling his ass. There’s no barrier. There’s certainly no condom. Patrick pushes the Blonde construction worker off him. Somehow, this knowledge sobers him up immediately. What the fuck man? You knew my situation. Did you just fuck me raw? Clint tells him to relax, it was a heat of the moment. He forgot to pull a condom out, but it doesn’t matter, he’s clean. Patrick is disgusted. Who uses the word “clean” these days. Are you negative? Have you been tested for venereal disease diseases? When was the last time? Are you on prep? Clint's silence scares the fuck out of Patrick. Oh my fucking God. Patrick gathers his things and leaves. But he can’t go home, not right now, not like this. He rents his own hotel room and showers, trying to wipe all evidence of Clint off him. He takes the shower hose and puts it in his ass, giving himself an enema, trying to remove all the ejaculation that invaded his body without his knowledge. When he’s done, he texts Josh that he's with work colleagues and might just crash at the hotel near the office. He tells him he’s in bed, alone, if Josh wants to call. But he’s a little drunk. Josh texts back immediately, tells him not to be cheap and drink all the water and juice from the mini fridge to stem off any hangover in the morning. Tell him he loves him and will see him tomorrow.
But Patrick can’t sleep. He lays in bed and stares at the ceiling, his eyes filled with tears. Patrick tosses and turns but eventually sleep takes over. He’s awaken the next morning by a knock at the door. Not knowing who it could be Patrick freezes. It can’t be that fucking asshole, can it? Hope it isn’t Josh either, he’s not prepared to see him yet. Patrick’s fears are for naught because when he opens the door it’s just room service. Josh had ordered him a full breakfast, plenty of starch, eggs, bacon and strong Italian coffee. Trembling, Patrick takes the tray, fumbles for his wallet to tip the room service valet. He puts the tray down and stares at it. He starts to cry. His husband is perfect. He’s a fucking prize.What is he fucking done?
Chapter 3 coming soon
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