Dryer Tumble

Most of us have had the fantasy of the good-looking repairman coming in, fixing the broken appliance and then fucking our brains out. Yeah. Sure. Nice dream, but it’s just that. A fantasy. Or is it?

* * *

The mountain of dirty vacation clothes crept ever higher and threatened to consume the bedroom floor. The late winter get-away had been a nice respite from the cold, but the accumulation of sweatshirts and speedos and dirty underwear represented most of my wardrobe.

I pulled the load of underwear out of the old dryer I had bought from my mom. Shit, they were hot. I loaded the wet sweats in to take their place. “Maybe I should turn the heat down a notch.” I chuckled. “Don’t want to burn up all my good sweats.”

I turned the heat dial down and punched ‘start’. The old box clicked, lights flashed…and nothing. I switched it off, back on and tried again. Click, lights, nothing. One more time, like I thought some miracle was going to happen. Off, on, click, lights, nothing.

“Shit.” I shook my head and muttered to myself. “At least I work from home. I guess I can live in boxer briefs until I can get a repairman out here. I just hope it can be fixed. I really can’t afford a new dryer right now.”

I found the number on a magnet ad on the fridge. “A-1 Appliance Service. Service with a smile.”

Yeah, I remembered their service. An old man with a front tooth missing had come out to fix the ice maker. Not much of a smile, but he did a good job at a reasonable price.

The scheduler was sympathetic but not very encouraging.

“Two days?” I sighed. “Well, I guess I’ll have to live in my underwear for a couple of days. Everything I own is filthy dirty.”

He paused before he replied. “Well, I do have one guy who could probably work you in, late this afternoon. Not sure about the time, though. It will depend on how his other appointments go.”

I jumped at the chance. “Hey, man. That would be great. I work from home, so I’ll be here.”

“OK. His name’s John. It’ll probably be around five. I’ll get you on the schedule.”

My despair turned to a sigh of relief. I just hoped “John” could fix whatever was broken.

* * *

I scratched my sweaty balls through the damp cotton of my boxer-briefs. I stared at the computer screen in front of me. The article for “Adventure Vacations” was not coming as easily as I had hoped.

I rubbed my crotch again. Shit, it was hot for March. I thought about turning on the air conditioner, but the temps were supposed to drop into the 40’s tomorrow. Sweat and bear it.

I wrote another paragraph, but my mind wandered. The Florida vacation with my married friends had been a nice get away, but the day I had taken for myself had been my personal highlight. A drive down to the nude beach in Miami.

I leaned back in my desk chair and let my mind wander.

* * *

Damn. Nothing like lying in the warm sun, shaved dick and balls soaking up the warmth to the mutual admiration of the studs on the beach. I hadn’t gone down for a hookup, just a little free time to myself. But eye candy is always appreciated.

Then there was Alex. The guy was unbelievable. Flirting with me every time his partner’s head was turned. Built like a little brick shithouse. I figured a couple inches shorter than my 5’9”, with a fair-sized cock between his legs and bubble butt begging to be squeezed. I had to roll over on my stomach to hide my engorging manhood.

Then his partner headed for the bathroom. Alex got up, rubbed his already rising cock and walked right by me. He smiled, winked, and nodded toward the water. Jeez. What’s a guy to do? I got up and followed him into the rather cold water.

As we proceeded to play in the waist deep ocean, we talked a bit. We exchanged first names. He and his partner were down from Boston.  I asked him about his friend. He just shrugged and informed me that his partner was headed for the restrooms to do a bit of cruising.

As if that didn’t shock me enough, he dove under the water and began to suck me. My cold, rather shrunk-up cock jumped to life. When he came up for air, he hugged me. We kissed like two horny teenagers, tongues fighting to dive-bomb the other’s throat.

Being a guy who tries never to pass up an adventure or a challenge, I took a deep breath and plunged under water. I grabbed his butt cheeks for stability and swallowed his throbbing cock. A little salty from the sea water, but delicious.

Unintentionally, my fingers slid into his crack and grazed his pucker. My first thought was that I had gone too far. But rather than pull away, he fucked my throat, squeezing my fingers with his clenched cheeks.

Damn. I’m in heaven but I’m running out of air. My dick and my sex-starved brain were saying, “Stay a little longer. Just a little longer.” However, my lungs were screaming, “Get the fucking cock out of your mouth and come up for air!”

I pulled off his delicious rod. I thrust my head above the water, gasping for breath.

Alex stood there with a huge smile on his face. “That was frigging awesome,” he said, giggling like a schoolboy.

As he pulled me into another erotic kiss, I realized a small group of naked guys had begun to encircle us. All of them were either stroking themselves or the guy next to them.

Without breaking our kiss, Alex pulled my hands to his butt cheeks, driving our engorged cocks together. His arms locked behind my head, pulling us into an even tighter embrace.

I massaged the mounds of his butt, forcing our cocks to duel between us. The middle finger of each hand toyed with his pucker. Gently one finger slipped in.

He pulled out of our kiss. “You have anything willing to take the place of that finger?” he asked loud enough for our audience to here.

Not waiting for an answer, he again pulled us into an embrace, wrapping his legs around my waist. He settled his opening on my dickhead. My cock pierced his willing sphincter as our tongues dueled. He moaned as the full length of my manhood filled him.

I let the motion of the ocean waves set the rhythm of our fuck. Hell, what else could I do, fight against nature? The feeling and the scene were incredible. I’d fucked and sucked in a hot tub and swimming pool, but this was a completely new and fantastic experience.

But, as hot as it was to fuck in the ocean, it’s hard as hell to keep going against the waves.. He climbed off me and we saluted our cheering audience. We talked a bit more and wished the other safe travels. And I watched the luscious ass works its way back up the beach.

* * *

I shook my head to come back to reality. That story would have to wait for another time and another client. I wiped the precum from my excited cock, licked my fingers, and dried them with the hem of my torn, sleeveless T-shirt. I tried to refocus on the article in front of me.

A knock on the front door quickly deflated my engorged cock. I looked at the clock. Shit. 5:15 and I’m caught in my office with a sticky cock in sweaty boxers and a torn shirt.

Timidly, I opened the door. The guy standing before me wasn’t at all the toothless old man. Instead, he was about six foot, mid forties, a bit scruffy with at least a two to three day stubble. Not ugly, but not handsome, either. Somewhere between rough and rugged.

“Hi. I’m John. From A-1 Service.”

I stuttered. “Uh. I’m Rod. Uh. Come on in. Sorry, you caught me working in my office. I’ll go grab some pants.”

“Don’t bother. You’re fine. I don’t mind.”

I shrugged and showed him to the laundry room and explained the problem. As he began to get out some tools I asked, “Can I get you anything? Water? A beer?”

He smiled. “A water would be great, for now. Maybe that beer once I’m through here.”

That relieved the tension and I got him a bottle of water. “Sorry to make you work overtime. I really appreciate it.”

He chuckled. “No problem. A couple of beers…and a tip…will take care of it.” He held up his hands. “Sorry. Just joking. Besides, if you don’t mind giving me a hand, we can probably cut this short.”

“Hey. No problem.” I replied with a shrug.

As he began to dismantle the machine, we talked easily. He was relatively new in the area. Up from Houston. As he worked, I couldn’t help but notice his rough hands (and no wedding ring) and rather rough persona, yet a nice enough personality. Periodically I would hold his flashlight or steady the front panel while he worked to get all the screws out.

He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand after struggling with a pesky screw. “Damn, it’s gotten hot out today.”

“Yeah. Sorry. I haven’t turned on the air yet.”

“Hey. Not a problem.” He began to unbutton his shirt. “You mind?”

I laughed and shrugged. “Not at all. Hey. I’m standing here in my boxers.”

He glanced at me and raised his eyebrows. I wasn’t sure, but there seemed to be a bit of an aggressive look cross his face. He stripped out of his work shirt, leaving him in an army green “wife-beater” undershirt. Strong arms. Thick, hairy chest. Solid abs. The manly scent of sweat permeated the small room.

I bit my lip and adjusted my chubing manhood. I wasn’t sure what was happening. This guy was not at all my type. Yet, for whatever reason, he was turning me on.

I was holding the main control board out of his way, when his hairy arm brushed my outer thigh. Purely an accident, I was sure. Moments later, he reached between my legs, resting his arm on my inner thigh as he worked to loosen a wire. That was no accident. Neither of us said anything, but held steady for what seemed like a minute, but I was sure only a matter of seconds.

He cleared his throat to break the tension. He held up a small connection. “I think this is the culprit. Usually is, on this type of dryer.” He tested it. “Yep. Dead as a doornail. I’ll get this replaced and we should be in business.”

Sure enough, once he replaced the part, put the machine back together, plugged it in, and hit the start button, it sprang to life like the old reliable machine it had always been.

“Fantastic! Now, while you clean up, how about that beer?”

He nodded in agreement. “I’ll take it.”

When I returned, he was leaning back against the sink. He wiped his face with the front of his undershirt revealing the matted hair of his chest and the thick trail over his abs and disappearing into the unseen reaches beyond his belt. As he lowered his shirt, he ran his hands over his chest and stomach and over his crotch. The bulge below his belt had more than doubled in size.

I handed him the beer. “To a job well done.”

He popped the tab. “We try to please.” In short order, the can was drained.

I smiled. “How about another one.” He nodded in agreement.

He was kneeling at his toolbox as I set the beer on the counter. “How do you know what parts to bring with you to a particular job?”

He reached under the top tray and pulled out a small packet. He laid it on the counter as he picked up the beer. “I always come prepared.”

My heart skipped a beat. My hands shook as I popped the tab. Oh, shit. The packet was a condom!

The sensible part of my brain screamed, “Pay the bill and get him out of here.”

The raging hardon tenting my shorts yelled, “Let me at him.”

My quivering ass pucker begged, “Let him at Me.”

I took a long drink. I stood tall and cocked my head to one side. My mouth whispered, with much more confidence than I felt, “So I see.”

A mischievous grin spread across his face. Slowly, he pulled the wife beater over his head and tossed it to one side. He flexed his biceps and fluttered his pecs, then ever so slowly ran those rough hands over his chest and abs and crotch, stopping at his thighs, his outstretched fingers outlining his now very full bulge.

Through closed teeth he snarled, “I never force anyone to do anything they don’t want. I’m also never gentle.” He closed his fingers around his bulge. “You sure you want this?”

With renewed confidence, I replied, “I promised a couple of beers…and a tip.”

I took a step forward, then dropped to my knees. I unbuckled his belt and opened his fly. The smell of crotch sweat, piss and his heady musk was intoxicating. I pulled his jeans down to his knees. I began to lick and suck and chew his full cock through the reeking cloth of his boxers.

He pushed my face deeper into his crotch. With one motion, he ripped my ragged shirt in two. “Take off my shoes.” I complied. “And the socks.” They joined his shoes, his shirt, and the remains of my shirt in the corner of the small room. He pulled the belt out of the loops before stepping out of his jeans and kicking them aside.

Oh, shit. I didn’t like the looks of that. Again, the sensible part of my brain kept saying over and over, “Get off your knees and get the fuck out of here.” Instead, I pulled his shorts down. For the first time, I got a glimpse of the ramrod that awaited me.

It was, in a word, massive. Not particularly long. About six inches. Maybe a bit more. But every bit as thick, with a nice sized, pink head and a shaft that got bigger and darker as it went.

I licked up the under side and around the corona, then back down. I licked and sucked the sweat from each low hanging nut, then back up the shaft. With no little difficulty, I sucked the head and as much of his shaft as I could.

Abruptly, he pulled out and slapped me with it on each cheek. “Come on, cocksucker. You’ve been eyeing this ever since I got here.” He forced the head between my lips. “Open up and swallow it.”

I started over, working inch by inch of the thick rod toward my throat. I’ve always prided myself on being able to deep throat every cock that came my way, but this was going to be a challenge.

However, he didn’t give me a chance to back down. He grabbed the back of my head and pushed. I took a deep breath, opened my throat and he slipped in. He held me there until I thought I would pass out, then pulled out enough for me to breathe. Then began a major face fuck, driving into my throat with his balls slapping my chin with each thrust. My salvation was the length of it. Any longer and he would have given me a tonsillectomy.

He pulled out and lifted my chin so that he could look me in the eye. He wiped the tears from my cheeks. “I told you I wasn’t gentle. You wanna stop?”

I grabbed his balls and squeezed as I used them to help me stand. I thought he was going to hit me, but instead, he just grinned. I reached for the condom and ripped the packet open with my teeth. Not gently, I rolled it down his shaft, then lubed it and my pucker with soap from the dispenser at the sink.

He spun me around and pushed me over the dryer. “You better hang on. You’re going for a ride…or a tumble in this case,” as he laughed a rather evil laugh and patted the side of the dryer.

I grabbed the back of the machine, waiting for what I wasn’t sure.

His rough hands kneaded my shoulders, then traced each side of my spine. The slap on my right cheek startled me. Then a slap on the left. Again, from my shoulders to my ass. Slap. Slap. A third time. By the fourth, I was gripping the back of the machine for all I was worth, my face buried in my arms. By the tenth, my ass was at fever pitch. I was sure my cheeks were bright red.

Then, I felt the cool leather of his belt trace my spine where his fingers had gone. I looked back over my shoulder. “Fuck, not the belt too!”

He grinned a sadistic grin. He worked his cock up my crack and teased my hole with its head. “We can stop any time.”

“Fucker,” I mumbled and buried my face back in my arms. I raised my ass for whatever might come.

He pulled my throbbing dick and balls down between my legs. “Pull your cheeks apart,” he growled.

“What?”

“You heard me. Pull your cheeks apart and don’t let go.”

I grabbed a beach towel from the clothes basket and spread it out on top the dryer. I buried my face in it as I reached behind me and pulled by ass cheeks apart, opening the pucker to the world.

The leather slapped across my exposed pucker, balls and dick.

“Shit!” I screamed.

“Shut up and keep those cheeks spread.”

Ten whacks had my whole lower body pulsing. I heard water running. Then a cool hand was rubbing my fevered ass and balls and dick. He kissed me between the shoulder blades. “Pain and pleasure are so very closely related. And a hot ass feels no pain, just pleasure.”

Gently he worked a finger through my portal into my aching cavity. Soon another and then a third worked their way deep inside me, opening me and caressing my prostrate.

I felt the bulbous head of his cock slip past my outer muscles. Inch by inch he stretched my hole until his balls rested against mine. Then began a slow fuck. All the way out except the head. Back in. Out. In. slowly gaining speed and thrust until he was pounding me into the front of the dryer.

We were both panting and moaning. I could hold back no long. “Fuck. I’m cumming.”

That’s all it took. With one last thrust, he drove deep inside me. With a yell, I knew he was filling the sheath deep within me.

We lay on the cool tile of the laundry room floor, sweaty bodies wrapped together. The afternoon sun had faded to twilight and finally evening. I got him a towel and wash cloth to clean up. As he slipped out the door, he turned. “Thanks for the beer…and the tip.”

“Any time.”

He turned, stroked his chin and then his crotch. “I’m thinking maybe it might be a good idea to check how well your dryers working. Maybe swing by about this time next week?

I smiled as I rubbed my aching butt. I think that might be a great idea.

He smirked and nodded. “I’ll put in a work order for a ‘dryer tumble’ for next week. And, by the way,” he added. “don’t have anything on but those boxer shorts.”

As he drove away, my phone dinged. “Please rate our service provided.”

I smiled and replied. “A-1 Service. Service with a smile.”

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