A Hot Fucking Day

Our story opens with James Oliver McKenzie in the front yard of his home. He is on his knees weeding neglected flowerbeds from the previous owner. It is a hot June afternoon, and he is stripped down to the waist, his T-shirt tossed on the ground, and he is still sweating profusely. He closed on the house just three weeks prior after getting his much-anticipated raise at the shipping company where he works as their accountant.

Another glance to his left, he looks once again at the Navarro Blue Metallic Audi RS 5 Coupe sitting in his drive, another recent purchase made possible by the raise. It sits all shiny and new, the concrete drive still wet where he washed the car before tackling the flowerbeds. He smiles at his good fortune, finding the job after college and after working there for seven years, is now the main company accountant with the retirement of Bill Harris. Then he can’t help but frown just a bit. Six months ago, he had his life all planned out. The house, the new car, and a boyfriend to share his life. The only problem was Shane wanted something else. A new boyfriend in a new city, and therefore broke up with him four months ago to move away with some guy he met at the college during his senior year.

Oliver had wondered what he had done wrong, then became self-conscious about his looks, going to the gym every day for a month before realizing from the stares of others he was just as pleasing to the eye, just as attractive as any other guy with a good body. He thought of his appearance, how he was five foot ten, a muscular one hundred sixty-one pounds, hairy chest and legs, goatee, brown hair kept long on top and short on the sides, and vivid blue eyes, the thing most guys commented on first when they first met. And he had a nice seven-inch-thick cock that fit in his hand way too good and far too often over the last few months. He had come to understand the problem hadn’t anything to do with him. Shane had just grown bored with him and wanted something new. In a moment of care for his ex, he wondered if Shane would ever be happy.

Turning back to the task at hand, Oliver tugged up more crabgrass and bermudagrass, shaking the roots to free the soil clinging to them. He wiped sweat from his brow and pulled more grass from the bed. Slowly, he worked his way across the front of his house until he came to the hose bibb with the garden hose coiled up on the ground beneath it. He wiped sweat from his brow again looking at the hose. He reached between the shrubs, turned the water on, then pulled the house out as he took a few steps back to get clear of the flowerbed and the yard right along the edge of it, and he turned the hose over his head letting the cool water run over it, cascade down his torso, soak his cargo shorts, then run down each leg. It took his breath the shock of the cold water, then it was refreshing in its coolness.

The rumble of an old V-8 coming up the street, and Oliver looked over to the baby blue and white Ford truck ride by. The driver smiled at him, then waved as he passed. It was the son of the Moore’s that lived three houses down. The husband was a mechanic at one of the Ford dealerships, and sitting in their garage was a 1968 Mustang he and his son were rebuilding. Helen Moore had been the first neighbor he met, and soon after he met Jonathan and the son, Tyler. Samuel Tyle Moore had a stare that simply unnerved him, and he wondered if others felt it. He watched the old Ford High Boy turn into the drive of the Moore place, then Tyler climbed out. A look back his way, another wave, then the tall lanky boy went into the garage. Oliver tried not to think of it, since Samuel Tyler Moore had been the object of his sexual fantasies after their first meeting. But damn it was hard. Tyler wasn’t muscular, made more pronounced by his six-foot three height. But he was boyishly attractive with thick wavy black hair, dark brown eyes, and a smooth lean body he had seen a couple of times as Tyler mowed their yard, shirtless and in worn frayed gym shorts.

How did he know this about Tyler? It embarrassed him to think of it, how he looked the boy up online, finding his social media profile. He had just graduated from high school. Among the images was one of the basketball team with stats, and how Tyler was considered the class flirt despite not one image of him with a girlfriend, not even one from his prom. Only an image of Tyler with two other boys, the three of them at a table smiling for the camera. He used this information to create an image of Tyler. A persona he dared to create for his own amusements.

Oliver had looked at the photos Tyler had loaded up, using them for his masturbatory fantasies. The tall lean body, the hands with long fingers he imagined wrapped around his cock. He imagined the boy beneath him, those long legs over his shoulders. For a few days, images of Tyler had been better than porn, but soon he was back to porn videos watching guys fuck, and suck, knowing Tyler was out of reach. Nothing in the profile or in their encounters gave any indication Tyler was anything but straight. Oliver came to believe Tyler was one of those guys who went through high school a lone wolf, just waiting to graduate before really dating, and he had no illusions the boy was a virgin for anyone that attractive and mischievous in personality as he had been when they met, probably had secret rendezvous no one knew about.

 

Water shut off and hose coiled back beneath the hose bibb, Oliver got on his knees to finish the last six feet or so of the flowerbed. The sun felt hotter, more intense, and he was soon wet with sweat again. He wiped his brow, then reached for another clump of crabgrass. A shadow fell over him and he turned to see Tyler standing behind him.

“You need some help?”

A yellow tank top that contrasted nicely with the skin tone, and cargo shorts that hung nearly to the knees but left the smooth calves exposed. He couldn’t help it, for he let his eyes move up and down the tall body right before him. Then he looked up at the face in shadow with the sun behind him and a ballcap pulled low over the brow.

“I…huh…I’m almost done.”

“You look like you’re going to have a heat stroke. You do know it is ninety-four degrees?”

“No, no I didn’t know.”

Tyler laughed, then stepped closer, “Damn Oliver, you should pay more attention to what’s happening around you.”

The way it was said, a suggestion of an insinuation, and Oliver found his eyes going down over the loose tank top, down to the bulging cargo shorts. If only it were true, he thought. He turned back to the flowerbed and suddenly felt it. The heat that made every breath feel like he inhaled it from an oven. How is body felt almost feverish, so hot he wasn’t thinking straight. He looked at the crabgrass, Bermudagrass, and assorted weeds and rolled to his ass. He rested his arms over his raised knees and looked over his shoulder at Tyler.

“You’re right. This is insane.”

“Why don’t you go get cleaned up then take me for a ride in that new sports car.”

Oliver nodded in agreement, then rolled to his hands and knees and got to his feet.

“Yeah, a cold shower sounds good. Gimme about thirty minutes to take a shower and get dressed then come back.”

“Oh hell, Oliver, I can wait inside. It’s not a problem.”

Tyler had just invited himself inside and in a manner that it would seem rude or like he was hiding something to not let him inside. He had no intention of letting the eighteen-year-old get under his skin, but he felt an anxiousness not felt since he was an eighteen-year-old freshman in the dorm with a bunch of other guys.

“Sure…okay.”

 

Tyler followed him through the back door into the small mudroom, through the kitchen into the living room. He stopped at the entrance to the hall and looked back to see Tyler taking a seat on the sofa that sat in the center of the room facing the large flat screen.

“I’ll be a bit for I have to stay in the shower until I cool down.”

“Take your time,” Tyler replied. He looked at Oliver with raised eyebrows and a goofy smile, and Oliver smiled back despite warnings going off the boy was too close.

Oliver looked away and headed to the bathroom.

He stripped and stepped in the lukewarm shower and as he adjusted to it, he kept lowering the temperature until the faucet was cranked to its coldest position, nothing but cold water washing over him. He held his head under it, then turned and let it wash over his shoulders. How long he was in the shower, he had no idea, but he finally felt the heat of the day evaporate from his body.

Towel around his waist, he came out of the bathroom heading to his bedroom telling himself the first remodel project was a bathroom off his bedroom. He took a couple of steps reaching out for the door handle to his bedroom when he heard it. It was unmistakable for he had heard it last night when he was watching porn. The sound of a bottom crying out over the sound of bodies coming together in a hard fuck.

“Shit!” Oliver uttered and he rushed to the end of the hall until he was standing at the edge of the living room. “Fuck,” he whispered as he watched a hand move down a long cock. A cock at least nine inches long, maybe longer. The hand moved back up and over the wide flared head and he followed the hand with his eyes, then up higher looking at the naked body then the boyish face of Tyler staring back. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I found you search history and must admit it is better than my own. Jesus, you like the physical fucks,” Tyler replied as he continued to slow stroke his cock.

Oliver finally brought his focus back, took in the whole image before him. Sitting dead fuck center of the sofa completely naked, Tyler was slowly masturbating. The lean body was slid down on the seat cushion, legs spread wide apart concealing nothing. The loose sac with the large nuts resting on the cushion. The long cock, thick enough to fill the long-fingered hand, with a head that flared wide, and he knew it would hurt when punching through a tight ass. The sparse fan of pubic hair, then the long smooth torso with nickel size nipples. Oliver took it in, every detail, eyes going higher as they looked at the prominent collar bone, the small indention below the long neck with its prominent Adam’s apple. Then he was looking at the face. Heart shaped with a strong jaw and a nose large enough to anchor the face. The lips were thin but curved with a seductive smile. Then he was looking into the dark brown eyes and knew they saw him, truly saw him. The lust he felt for Tyler, the desire for his body and that cock Tyler was stroking.

The coffee table was moving, pushing away from the sofa, and Oliver realized Tyler was using his long legs to slide it away.

“You want to help me out?” asked Tyler, playful and seductive.

It was such a temptation. The want for another, the desire to feel their bodies, to touch them, on their lips, their necks, down their chest and finally their cocks. He wanted what was laid out before him. He saw Tyler’s arousal with the hard cock and nipples with their hard little nubs protruding out.

“Oliver.”

His name was spoken like it was a spell. Some magic that made him move around the coffee table until he was standing before Tyler right between the spread legs. He wondered if Tyler would suck his cock. He wondered if Tyler would let him fuck his ass. He wondered if Tyler would get him to suck cock and take it in the ass. Shane was always his bottom, but as he looked down at the long torso, the hard cock, then back up into the dark brown eyes, he knew it didn’t matter. He’d do what Tyler wanted.

“Suck me,” Tyler uttered in a low commanding voice.

Towel dropped to the floor revealing his own growing erection, Oliver went to his knees. He ran his hands up the smooth thighs until he had the cock and sac between his thumbs and index fingers. He squeezed them tight around the cock and sac hearing Tyler moan and the cock flex with his arousal. Using his right hand, he circled just the sac and tugged it until the nuts were tight in the bottom and it turned an angry red. With his left, he held the cock at the base feeling how it filled his hand, thicker than he first imagined. Then he leaned forward and sank as much of it into his mouth as he could take.

Oliver worked his mouth on it. Up and down, he moved his head keeping lips tight around it. He tongued the head, dragged it up and down every inch of that cock, then over the tightening sac. He worked the nuts around, licked thighs, the area below the sac, then up along side it, dragging is tongue up and over the abdomen as his cheek rubbed along the cock. Then he licked the drooling head capturing the sweetness of it, then sank his mouth back over the head and down the shaft. He moved his mouth up and down it, taking a bit more each time until it pushed into his throat cutting off his air. Then he sucked just the head, tonguing it and working his lips around its flared form.

A hand combed through his wet hair, then closed into a fist holding his head on the cock.

“Jesus, fuck, suck me,” uttered Tyler.

The hand pushed Oliver’s head down, sinking cock deep into his mouth, then it pulled his head up, roughly, tugging at his hair. Over and over, until his drool coated the cock and ran down his chin.

The hand let go and Tyler sat back, reaching over his shoulders until clutching the back of the sofa. Stretched out, he began to work his hips, pumping cock through Oliver’s lips. “Fuck. Take me.”

Oliver looked up at the stretched-out torso, how the skin was so smooth and tight over the flexing muscle. Then he closed his eyes and let Tyler continue to fuck his mouth.

“OH, Fuck!” Tyler exclaimed.

Oliver felt the cock swell thicker, the flared head bang against the roof of his mouth, then push back to his throat, then blast wad after wad down it.

 

“Stop, stop,” Tyler cried out, and Oliver realized he was still nursing the spent cock. It remained rock hard, filling his mouth as he tried to draw out just one more drop of cum. Tyler pushed his head off it then stood in front of him forcing him to lean back. Hands grabbed him underneath each arm and he was shocked at the strength that was jerking him to his feet then manhandling him to get on the sofa. He was on his knees, turned to face the right side. With hands on the arm of it, Tyler pushed him over and kicked his legs apart getting between them.

Oliver tried to imagine it, he the one on bottom, the one about to get fucked. It hadn’t happened since he was a freshman in college, always the top since then. But the fucking eighteen-year-old was about to fuck him, and with a cock he knew would be a painful stretch to take. He felt it rake up and down his ass then across it. Tyler playfully smacked his ass with it, the left cheek, then the right. Then Tyler laid it between the cheeks and pumped his hips sliding the cock back and forth until Oliver felt himself pushing back, for he wanted it, wanted it so badly his own cock hovered under his stomach so achingly hard he would do anything for Tyler.

“Yeah, I knew you’d want it. Don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me. Tell me what you want.”

“I want…I want you to fuck me,” Oliver confessed, admitted with such desire he reached back and spread his cheeks for Tyler, showing him his ass. “Do it, do it, stick me.”

Tyler chuckled, and Oliver felt fingers touching him, rubbing over his tight opening, then breaching it, slipping one finger, then two, and finally three fingers into his ass, twisting and turning until he loosened to the penetration.

“Yeah, you’re ready,” Tyler uttered in a near whisper.

But Oliver wasn’t ready. He shuddered and cried out with the penetration. The stretch had been shocking, how the flared head seemed to almost rip him open. Then the initial pain subsided and all he felt was the fullness of the penetration as Tyler pushed inch after inch into his depths. Hands held his waist, the long fingers digging into his sides, as cock pummeled his insides. Tyler fucked with a steady rhythm, then slowly ground his cock into Oliver pushing hard against his ass. He tugged outward until his cock hovered between them, flexing up and down, then he shoved forward breaching the opening as it tried to close and sank all they way into Oliver’s depths. He held the waist with a death grip and hammered Oliver’s insides until the sound of hips banging against ass echoed in the room.

“Goddamn you hot bastard, take me,” exclaimed Tyler as he fucked until covered in sweat.

Oliver was breathing like a bull, huffing, and puffing for every breath as his own cock flopped heavily between his thighs. Tyler kept up a brutal pace, smacking against Oliver’s ass with such frequency, it was a staccato of sound, rapid, physical, and he looked down to see his own cock drooling its slick.

Then his hole was empty, completely empty. “NO,” he cried out, and heard Tyler chuckle, then start manhandling him again.

“Roll over, bitch, I’m not near done fucking you.”

Oliver was on his back, legs held up, submissive in a way he had never been before. He watched Tyler move close with a grin on his face and a hard cock ready to keep fucking. The hands slid down his calves until holding them behind the knees. He knew the position it would afford Tyler and he laid his head back as Tyler pushed forward then down, pressing his thick muscular thighs against his chest as cock breached his tight opening again. Tyler didn’t’ hesitate for a second; just shoved every thick inch into his depths. Tyler had him pinned down with cock buried in his ass. Then Tyler was fucking. Fucking hard. Pumping cock inside him so fast and furious he didn’t know the tug outward versus the push inward. Just the movement of thick cock inside him. It seemed to last forever, the long lanky body hovering over him raining sweat down on his own sweaty body. The pumping of cock into his depths, and his breathless utterances that should have embarrassed him, but only fueled his arousal.

Tyle rose up to his knees with Oliver’s legs held to his chest. He held tightly to them as he began to work his hips again, thrusting into Oliver’s depths over and over and over.

Oliver wanted to cum. Wanted to cum like never before as cock pummeled his insides. He took his wet drooling cock in hand and stroked with the same furious pace of Tyler’s fuck. After only a minute or so, he just could not take another stroke. Not any more stimulation. He raised his head and looked up at Tyler.

“I’m going to cum.”

“Do it. Do it, mother fucker. Let me see it. Go on…shoot it,” Tyler commanded him, and it was like squeezing a trigger. He came. He arched his back and shuddered and jerked and shoved his ass down on Tyler’s cock as his own erupted. Thick wads hit him in the face, the neck, then roped up his chest.

“Jesus,” Tyler uttered, then shoved into his depths, and with hips tight to his ass, shuddered with his own release.

 

This time the shower ran warm, soothing to tired exhausted muscles. Oliver ran his hands over the taller body, feeling the impossibly smooth skin and the tightness of it. He felt the muscles of the abdomen, the legs, the arms, then he felt the flaccid cock, felt it stir again, begin to thicken.

“If you get me hard, I’m fucking you right here in the shower,” uttered Tyler.

“You promise.”