The hunky roofing contractor man-spread in the chair opposite me and his relaxed thighs fooled me; they were actually rock-hard muscle that could crack your skull. As I found out. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
A flirty painter stud had recommended the roofer; he’d fully disclosed that his “bud” Kit was just starting his own business but assured me he’d been doing roofing for over ten years, was highly capable, was well-recommended, and was responsible. Why would I give credence to a paint estimator I didn’t really know? Well his own sinewy, furry, ginger bod and his long fat-headed cock that sprang from his thick fiery bush was one reason; seeing as how he’d blown me a day earlier in the same room as I know lusted after his bud in. An estimate couldn’t hurt either way.
When we bought the house we knew the roof would have to be replaced soon enough; Florida’s very tough as far as homeowners’ insurance and roofs. We passed a roof inspection five years ago by our insurance company but knew the ten-year-plus age and a big storm could change that in an eye-blink. May had been the hail storm; we’d been procrastinating on getting it checked-out for five months.
Kent was out in our yard with our puppy Nigel when the roof guy drove into our driveway; I’d been engrossed either in a contract I was reviewing for my consulting gig or porn at the time; not sure which. When we are in our rear yard or pool area unless we chose to be in directly at one of the gates the hedging and other shrubs and trees completely conceal us from the outside; we don’t wear clothes in the house and don’t bother to when we go outside unless it was cold or raining. Today was eighty and sunny; the joys of north Florida’s end of autumn.
I heard Nigel in the kitchen eating his “lunch cookie;” an ill-conceived compromise when he’d graduated from two meals a day as a very young puppy to one. The whole big-dog dog biscuit meant a floor full of crumbs left-over. Kent appeared at the door to my study. Oh now I remember; I’d read the contract and segued to porn to wake me back up. “Working HARD I see,” Kent said with a laugh looking at my hard-on.
He came into the room, dropped to his knees, and licked a up from my big hairy balls to my tip. He sucked my tip for too short a time and I whimpered when he fell back on his haunches and smacked his lips. “That’s to remind you the difference between porn and what Daniel or I always have waiting for you.”
“Daniel’s at work; and you were in your own world of technical specs and making them consumable for that Irish conglomerate that pays you so well to work naked an ocean away.”
I was in my easy chair; a suede recliner that doesn’t look like one. I had my laptop on the arm as I often do; not entirely so that my hard-on wasn’t impeded by it if I had it in my lap. He came up to his knees and bent over my jutting member and the edge of my laptop screen. I could vaguely smell my pre-cum apart from the mint of his breath when his lips were close enough to mine to make my balls tingle more than they already were when he was licking me. I thought he was going to kiss me; to distract me from the porn with his muscle and talent and leave me breathless, sore, and blissful like he did every time. Instead he told me, “Roof contractor is here. And he doesn’t mind nudity. ‘We’re guys; used to it in the gym,’ he said in an exaggerated bro-voice. Then he slapped my big fat hard-on. “Wonder how many of those gym bros pack this kind of heat,” he said with a smirk. “I let him in through the side gate: he’s on the roof. He’ll ring the bell when he’s done inspecting.” He took a few steps out and then turned outside the doorway with a very evil smirk on his face. “I double-dog dare ya to bag this bro.”
And Kent was gone. My dick still throbbed and my eyes reminded me that his hairy back-side is better than most any I see on screen; at minimum as good as any porn actor-model. And I knew what he’d dared me to do.
I decided that I too would remain unclothed; but I also decided that a less direct approach would be better. I closed the porn and went back to formatting my notes from my review of my client’s contract with their manufacturer; the correlation to operating reports and inventories was mind-numbing enough for my hard-on to deflate in no time.
The chime of the front walk alarm startled me; I heard heavy footfalls approaching the front door through the foyer outside my study. He had the slightest smirk when he looked me head to toe through the front door glass when we met there at the same time. Like our yard the hedges and shrubbery completely impair any view from the street or neighbors. I swung the door open and it was all eye contact. “The other Mister Sherbourne?” He asked with his muscular arm and meaty hand out to shake. The hand-shake was as firm as his body; and like a well-trained young man the eye contact was maintained. “Your husband said you’re the one to talk to.” Among other things to do, I thought remembering Kent’s challenge.
I led him into my study and motioned for him to sit in one of the empire chairs. That one is basically opposite my recliner and that’s where I settled, back one notch, with my legs splayed, and my heavy package on display between my hairy thighs. More than a moment’s break in eye contact to check me out again; then he settled in and man-spread himself.
He was all business until he wasn’t. At one point a bit frustrated with his technology and concentrating he finally got the estimate sent to my phone, told me it was finally there, adjusted himself and left his left hand hanging over his crotch. “Before you look at that know that I’ll do everything I can to make this a pleasure,” he said seriously. I looked pointedly at his crotch and then back with my eyebrows raised. “Wait, no, sir, I didn’t mean … “ he stammered flustered. He was cuter when he wasn’t being all professional; I grinned at him. “What I meant was I’ll walk you through the insurance claim to your homeowners’ company, so most of this will be covered.”
“I want to say that you can plainly see I don’t care much for being covered; but when it comes to money I do … a lot.” He had no poker face; I should invite him to our poker nights. He at first looked worried at my comment about being covered and sat up straighter and tense and brought his knees together; then he looked relieved when I’d finished and we were back on the topic of business and settled back again with his knees even wider apart.
“Look, Kit,” I said. “I wanna suck your cock.” His eyes widened but he didn’t react; or he did by freezing. “It has nothing to do with our business and everything to do with being a gay man and enjoying a hot stud. When was the last time you came?”
“I uh well I’m not usually into … I mean not that I’ve never … “ he stammered.
“I’m sure that it’s definitely not that you never cum,” I said with a chuckle.
He laughed nervously. “Sorry I didn’t mean … “ I kept quiet eyes on his; to his credit his on mine too. “I meant with dudes. I’m straight.”
“I didn’t say and don’t care one way or another Kit. You’re hot and you’re young and I’m betting have a dick and full balls under those flimsy work-out shorts. I have a mouth and talent.”
His turn to smirk. “I don’t get off from oral alone.”
I love a challenge. “I wonder … But either way I have a hole tighter than any pussy too. Is that another ‘not usually’?” I asked with air quotes.
His gaze was intense; the smirk lost. “I haven’t for a long time.”
And just like that his thin shorts were tenting appealingly. I flicked my eyes from the growing tent to his eyes. He adjusted himself. I’d won the bet already! Now to collect my winnings.
I raised my chair, got out of it and crawled to him. I let my hands come to rest on his warm fuzzy knees as my own knees made the last couple of moves to position me between them. He let out a long sigh.
I let my hands slide up his thighs, under his shorts, under his boxer briefs. His breath was louder his hands clenched on the arm of the chair. “Your husband; he won’t mind?”
I looked up at him and smirked again. Before I answered my fingers found his hot balls inside those briefs and he gasped as I took him in hand firmly. “My husband dared me that I couldn’t get you.”
I found his shaft with one hand then and he moaned as I gripped it and continued holding his balls. “Fuuuuuuuuck,” he said as my index finger found his wet foreskin.
“Uncut. Nice,” I said looking up.
“I might not be … I’ve been on three estimates since I showered at the gym this morning,” he warned.
I could smell him; just barely over a touch some masculine cologne that lingered and some deodorant or strong soap scent. I narrowed my eyes and bored into his. “I’m not some girl Kit. I like a man to smell and taste like a man.”
His eyes looked a bit panicked; but his thick veiny dick was twitching and pre-cum was flowing on my fingers. He surprised me when he moved his hands to his waist-band, raised his hips enough, and slipped them down just enough to free his junk with a slap to his polo shirt over his ab area.
My hands were still inside the shorts and boxer-briefs. As much as I didn’t want to let go I was going to have to. Before I did I leaned in, pulled his shaft away from his body by its root, and licked the tip and ran my tongue around under his foreskin once. “Awww FUCK!” he gasped.
I leaned back, pulled my arms free, pulled his shorts and boxer briefs down and off one ankle over his big sneakers, and licked my lips. “Mmmmmm,” I moaned lasciviously.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“OH YEAH,” I responded. And I dove back on and throated him in one gulp while I took hold of his sac again.
“Oh fuck man!” he gasped. “Nnnnnngggghhhhh,” he groaned as my tongue assaulted his shaft and head as I pumped up and down him over and over and massaged his big balls.
His earlier man-spread had given no indication of what was inside; those boxer-briefs held him tight and he was obviously a grower. But he was thick enough to draw attention from anyone seeing him at fighting stance and long enough that he was well down my throat when my nose was in his musky pubes at his root.
I savored his tang on my tongue and I inhaled deeply every time his bush was up my nose. I’d like to say he was a stallion and made me work for it but it was only a few minutes before he bellowed, “OH MAN I don’t f-f-f-fuckin’ believe … I’m gonna … You might wanna … “ He pushed my forehead but I resisted and sucked him harder and his hands slapped back to the chair’s arms.
He erupted in a series of, “AWWWW FUUUUUUCK MAN!” and “FUCK YEAH!” and repeated “FUCK!” as shot after shot went into my throat and back-filled my mouth as he pumped and pumped and his ass was raised off the chair.
His cum was just strong enough and thick as molasses; the taste of a man in his prime. I savored every drop and before I swallowed all of what was in my mouth I gave him a break from my tongue-work on his too-sensitive head. I pulled back and opened my mouth so he could see what I knew was a lot on my tongue still. His eyes met mine wide and dazed. Then I swallowed with exaggerated mouth movements clearly savoring the last as I swallowed again and opened my mouth again.
“FUCK MAN!” he exclaimed ineloquently.
“Another time,” I cracked but was serious. “I have a call in four minutes. Can I sign whatever and be on time?”
“Dude!” he just said breathlessly as I moved away to get my phone and see where we left off.
I completely read and electronically signed an estimate and an agreement that if the work proceeded I’d pay my (too healthy ‘wind and other perils’) deductible to Kit’s company. It wasn’t the best estimate; too many ways to get out of it; but I’m not a lawyer. Maybe if he came back for more I’d fix him up with ours if he didn’t have one of his own. “If you want to clean-up the bathroom is through there,” I said and pointed.
“Dude you didn’t leave anything on my cock!” he said and held his still turgid member as if I didn’t know I’d done a good job. With a laugh he said, “But I do need to piss.”
He went through and I finished the electronic signature and emailed myself the estimate. I was at my desk getting ready to click into the call when his heavy stream finished and I heard the sink. He came back into the study smelling more of the hand soap than his musk; too bad. “My call in one. You know the way out. And you have my number if you ever need more help. Otherwise I’ll let you know what USAA says about the claim.” And I turned around and took hold of the mouse again.
“Mr. Sherbourne?” he said tentatively.
“I think we can go with Al at this point,” I said with a smile back to him and I clicked the first of too many clicks it would take to get into the video-call.
“I just wanted to say that I really appreciate your business,” he said.
“You came highly recommended. I’m confident,” I said and clicked the second time.
“And I … “
“Of course you did,” I cut him off. “I’m confident in myself,” I told him throwing him a smirk and then putting my finger to my lips as the last click joined me into my business call.
Later on after I’d regaled Kent and Daniel with the entire replay and after we’d fucked energetically on the double lounge by the pool my watch pinged with a text. I hadn’t entered Kit’s contact and I didn’t recognize the number; it wasn’t the odd area code I’d seen when he called me initially after the referral the day before and when he was on his way this morning. I still intended to find out where that number was from. I clicked into the text and saw it was him; a different number. “The roofer,” I said simply.
“Let me guess,” my world-wise husband said smugly. “He wants more.”
Daniel laughed and hefted my sweaty balls and slimy dick. “Right that! Who wouldn’t?” I leaned his way and kissed our boy with genuine affection and appreciation for his compliment.
Kent chimed in. “I second that. Now don’t keep us in suspense.”
I read it out loud. “This is Kit, from this afternoon. This is my personal phone, the other is my work phone. I just wanted to say thanks I think? Like man, Al, that was the best I’ve ever had. But you were done and onto the next thing, and I’m no chick or anything, but just needed to say that was great. Thanks Al. If you were serious I may want to try more. Happy Thanksgiving by the way.”
Daniel said, “Sweet guy.”
Kent said, “His knob got treated better than it ever had before and now he wants more but also is afraid of what he now knows about himself. He knew exactly that a man a very sexy skilled one. Was getting him off and he just went with it. He has some processing to do.”
I said, “I wonder how far we’ll get him to go when he comes back for more.”
Kent leaned over Daniel and kissed me. “I love that you keep your eye on the prize.” We all laughed.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
