Hardwood Hard-on

I saw him the first time at Lowes. He was notable enough to take a second look. About Kent’s height so a few inches over six feet; very dark hair and plenty of it covering his head, tanned hands and arms, protruding from his open collar, and five o’clock shadow; great shape; a handsome, friendly, and inviting face even so he wasn’t smiling as he intently listened to another employee who apparently had a lot to say. I couldn't tell if the stud was interested, just being polite, or doing his job. He finally noticed me (staring) and immediately turned his attention to me.

“Hey Felix, I need to help this customer,” he said and took a step away from the other employee and toward me. “Can I help you sir?”

Oh man could he ever! But the “sir” thing because I’m twenty-some years his senior helped me tamp-down my raging libido. At least he didn’t call me “daddy.” I really didn’t actually need the help of a Lowes lumber employee; what I was in the store to buy was nowhere near where I stood and I knew it. I like the smell of fresh wood (yup lumber and the male kind) and enjoyed the walk down to that part of the store. I did it every time unless I was running tight on time; I would have made time for this stud.

“I was looking for some wood.” Lame and I wasn’t; I was looking at a stud and imagining his wood and mine … throbbing, slick, pounding into ...

Then he smiled and the entire section of the store brightened. “You came to the right place!” he said obviously making fun of me. Then he made a point of glancing at my carry basket instead of a cart or lumber trolley. His smirk said he knew I wasn't there for lumber; he knew I couldn't resist a hard stud though. “I’m shopping; probably not ready to buy yet.” Probably that part was true; I don't play without my husband and Kent was home working.

There was a definite scent to him; a strong masculine soap was pervasive but also his own sweat was there too just not as strong. Yet. I wondered if the balance would shift by the end of his work-day. My dick perked-up thinking about inhaling him then.

“What is it you will use the wood for?” he asked.

I very nearly told him exactly what I would use his wood for. “I was thinking of some shelves maybe.” It was all I could think of.

“Then you’ll be looking for some hardwood.” My dick was definitely attentive and rising to the occasion. “I can show you the hardwood.”  Oh how I wished he would do just that.

I couldn’t stop myself; I looked down obviously at his crotch. I caught myself sizing him up based on the estimable bulge he was sporting. He might not be packing as much as my husband but the studies showed ninety-nine percent of men weren't; this one could be in the ninety-something percentile though based on the promise of his jeans crotch.

“Would you like me to?” he asked and looked me up and down with a bigger smile.

“Oh yes!” I looked back up and he was grinning. "Yes I would. Like you to show me your hard wood."

He paused for long enough to hold my eyes and to make my dick throb. “This way.”

He turned and walked toward another aisle and my eyes were caught by the second most perfect set of butt-mounds under his jeans that I’d seen that day; when I was telling my husband about it when I got home and launched my wanting body at him I assured Kent that his ass is still the best. Still my dick throbbed and made a spectacle of me in my shorts and made the point to me in case I missed it that Kent wasn’t there right then and this comely stud was.

When the young buck employee turned after we’d arrived at an aisle lined with bins full of standing planks it was his turn to obviously stare at my crotch. He looked back up at me with a smirk. “Looks like we’re in the right section; hard wood.”

I yanked my carry-along basket in front of me; I only drew more attention by doing it. He chuckled.

“Doesn’t look like you have a thing to be ashamed of their sir,” he said with another smirk and then turned serious. “But why don’t I show you the wood I can help you with?”

He immediately caught himself and blushed; his tanned face was glowing. “I messed that one up a little didn’t I?”

“Only if you consider my disappointment when you don’t COME through.”

He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “I can assure you sir that I would would definitely COME.“

He adjusted himself with his right hand and let it linger there as we eyed each other. I enjoyed the knowledge I got from watching him that he was boned-up too. Quite a compliment!

“Why don’t I give you my digits and we’ll hook-up later?” he asked in an even softer and more conspiratorial tone. His brown bedroom eyes seemed to glow like a tractor beam.

I mentally gave myself a shake. “For one reason I’m married.” I held my hand up and showed him the ring as proof.

“Then dude you really need it!” he said.

I immediately clarified. “I can give you assurance that he takes excellent care of my needs. And since we're on the subject I do my part to keep him happy too.”

“Ohhhhhhh,” he said and removed his hand from his prominent bulge like he'd been caught; he even took a step back.

“You only like straight men?” I asked him. I knew plenty of guys like him who did; young guys.

“Oh, no way dude; you’ve got me all wrong. I’ll suck or bend over for any hot straight married guy who needs guy-on-guy attention; but no way I’ll get between two guys in a relationship … unless of course they both want me to.” That smirk was back again. And that bulge hadn’t gone down.

We stood there more than a moment.

“Or I could just show you the wood. Wait I meant … “ The smirk evolved into a full-blown evil grin and he adjusted himself again.

“Look,” I told him. “I really did have a thought about building shelves. And not for nothing but I’m seriously flattered. But maybe I should get on my way for today.”

“Of course, sir,” he said in a more impersonal tone. “But if you decide you want that wood you know where to find me. I’m Nicky,” he told me and put out his hand. A glance told me his name-tag said, “Nick.” The familiarity he showed me gave my balls another buzz of excitement.

I shook his big warm hand and his grip was strong. I let my thought wander to that hand on me warm and touching … “Al,” I told him as my mind wandered.

“Nice to meet you Al.” His eyes bored into me again.

We held the handshake another long time until we were interrupted by a guy looking around the end of the aisle and then rushing up.

Nicky recovered immediately and straightened. “So if you’ll give me your number sir I’ll follow-up with you when your hard wood can be in.”

It was all I could do to not guffaw; luckily the guy who’d rushed up was not waiting for us to finish before he rudely burst in. “We need help two aisles down!” he insisted behind me.

The interruption and the thought of what the living F could be so urgent in the lumber aisles helped tame the rampant hard-on I was sporting from Nicky’s flirting. I turned and looked to find a Gen Z-er who was obviously agitated. Figures. And then I had to take back my uncharitable thoughts.

“A guy hit himself with a board and is bleeding pretty bad,” the Gen Z-er continued. "We need help!"

Nick reacted at once and started moving, making his apology to me. I stood and just told him, “Go!”

My last view of him was that beautiful set of bouncing mounds as he powered away with athletic grace. Which gave me another jolt of excitement when I thought about burying my tongue between those butt-cheeks and tasting him, feeling his butt-hair tickle my nose and tongue. I had to rush getting home to my very appealing husband.

—— about an hour later ——

Kent panted as he kissed me; now more tenderly than earlier when I’d arrived home and had gone straight to him to maul at him and grind my hard dick against him until he tore himself away from his work and took me. The first round was rough and demanding; it was exactly what I needed. In truth the pain of his ram-rodding me with his huge dick and just spit and sweat for lube served as a pay-back in my mind for my flirting with “the hardwood guy” as we referred to him later.

After Kent had fucked one load out of me and one load into me he’d flopped onto the leather sofa he’d thrown me over in his office in our house and asked me what had gotten me all riled-up. My usual answer was that it was just him; it was really the thought of having a younger stud for a husband who knew just how to get me off. I’d taken the opportunity to settle down on the sofa with him between his sprawled legs after that first round and lay against him for warmth in the air conditioning while I told him of my “hardwood adventure.”

Kent’s arms were wrapped around me as our bodies sweated skin to skin with my back to his ripped chest and abs and his back no doubt sweated on the leather; he rubbed my exposed front with his hands against the ambient chill. As I told the story with great details about the young stud’s attributes and attentions Kent’s fingers rubbed and pinched my nipples and teased my again-hard cock and recharging balls.

It wasn’t a long story but long enough to give him time to really work me up for a second round; his throbbing “hard wood” against my back left no doubt that he was cocked and loaded himself.

That time we went to our bedroom. Quickly; we didn't even bother to dress as we crossed the front of our glass-fronted house and didn't care what neighbors passed. 

We started out like we might take this one slow and easy but two horny men more often than not can’t hold back. We didn’t; unless you count him soothing my my sore hole by eating it until I executed and scored a takedown in the form of a reversal that threw him down. I impaled myself on his massive pole and rode until he returned the favor and manhandled me onto my back, devoured my mouth as he invaded me again, and pile-drove me until I blew another wad all over myself.

Kent was proud of that; so was I. At my age I may be the beneficiary of Kent’s assessment that I’m a “hot daddy” but physiology (and heart meds) being what they are often make one my limit. My husband’s macho self-satisfaction drove him to drive me doggy-style that time until he howled and I felt his even harder and even thicker cock unload in me a second time that afternoon.

Thus he fell off me with that obscenely big meat of his swinging about; he was sweating onto the bed-covers and pulled me down on top of his heaving torso and kissed me. It was long and sensual and a counter-point to both of the animalistic couplings we’d just shared.

“So what’s your plan to get his number since you didn’t today?” he asked me and jolted my thoughts away from how I ended-up being the luckiest man on earth to have a younger stud like him be my husband.

“This was my plan.” Clarifying I kissed him and ground my slimy torso and groin into his hard-muscled bod. “Why go to the work of hunting hamburger when I have porterhouse right here?”

Kent’s handsome face grinned with the look he gives me sometimes when he wants to call me on blarney but knows it’s really the truth. “Maybe to share the hamburger with the steak?” He gave me a look that said he knew that didn’t quite work and we laughed. But I knew what he meant and it was an opening as he often gave.

When we're talking softly and laughing after the grunts, howls, moans, oaths, pleas, and cries of release is the cue to our faithful companion Sasha to return for his share of attention. And on that cue he bounded in and made his demands known by planting his two front legs up on the bed and presenting himself. 

That was the last we spoke directly of Nicky for some time except as a private joke by reference to “going to visit Nicky?”or something like it if I was headed out on an errand; or the occasional reference to “hard wood” in conversation.

—— about a month later ——

We were having iced coffees (decaf for both of us) in the outdoor Starbucks on the beach during the intermission of a bike ride this past Thursday. We were enjoying it having cooled-down some; which for where we live means going from mid-nineties and high stifling humidity down to high eighties and quixotic humidity. That day was on the lower side for humidity and was a balmy eighty-seven as we took our breather and enjoyed the sound of the surf, the shade, and the shirtless beach traffic.

“Al?” a not-immediately familiar voice called. I turned my head to see a dark-furred beauty with an exposed sculpted torso and then worked my eyes up to a familiar face. He was dripping in sweat and bouncing on his feet; obviously not quite finished with a run.

I awkwardly stood up abruptly; I almost upset the table. Kent now tells it as it being the hard-on I sprung instantly at the sight of “Mister Hardwood” nearly capsizing the cafe table.

“Nicky!” I greeted him and shook his hand. It was every bit as strong and warm and sexually charged with his speckled light brown eyes piercing mine as it was the first time. And I was right about the appeal of his scent when he was sweat-soaked. 

It MAY have been a long hand-hold when we shook; but no way was it “infinite minutes of gazing longingly into each other’s eyes” as Kent tells it now. He was gracious enough to admit that he enjoyed that first sight of Nicky and appreciated the SLIGHTLY longer than necessary stall during the hand-shake.

Nicky turned to Kent. “Ah now it all becomes clear. You must be Al's husband. How could I compete for Al’s hard wood when he has all the stud a man could need right here?” It wasn’t blarney; Kent IS all that and a bag of chips. “I’m Nick,” the Lowes stud said in a deeper voice and I caught the clip of his name as he intro’d himself to a closer generational peer and was in an Alpha-to-Alpha mode.

Kent stood with the grace of an acrobat, made it clear he was taller, and took Nick(y)’s out-stretched hand. “Kent. The husband. I feel like I already know you Nicky,” he said and emphasized the ee he re-added to Nicky's name.

The smell and sight of Nicky shirtless and in well-fitted board-shorts was already enough to stoke my sac; but two young Alphas sizing each other up had my dick hardening embarrassingly in my bike shorts. “Maybe you should sit down Al,” Nicky said looking at my tented crotch with no small amount of cheek. In for a penny he went on and turned back to Kent. “You’re a lucky man to have one who’s in a ready state so often and so easily.”

Kent laughed. “Why do you think I married this stud?”

Not to be left out I adjusted myself and piped in and snarkily said to Nicky. “Maybe you just want me to sit down so you have something to sit on.” My hand lingered on my hard-on.

“Get a room boys!” came from a grizzled beach guy a table over. We all laughed.

“Sit with us?” Kent offered.

“To be honest unless that’s an offer that’s going to end-up with us three bare-butt nekkid, I don’t have time now as much as I’d like you two to use me until there's nothing left of me to use. But I have to be at work at three today.”

Kent snapped back. “And if we were going to have your END up and bare-butt naked? Certainly you don’t expect we would be be that quick with you that you'd make it to work on-time?”

Nicky blushed even more than he’d done in the store; now it was descending past his collar bone under his pelt and heavily-tanned skin making it glow. Kent turned to me. “You described perfectly how hot he is when he blushes .”

“Guys I’m right here!” Nicky protested.

“But not for long,” my husband reminded the hot young stud whose board-shorts were tenting. He didn’t seem to mind it being obvious at all.

“Yeah I really have to get back to my condo or I won’t have time to shower before time to get to work.”

“Hmmmm. Too bad. I’m sure you’d earn far more tips if you didn’t shower based on what my husband told me about your scent and is now confirmed." Nicky self-consciously raised his right arm, turned his head, sniffed, and flinched. Kent continued. "I know you CAME close to getting a big one from him that day.”

This time the blush was back and there was a smoldering quality to Nicky’s look. But he recovered and grinned. “If only I was allowed to TAKE tips at work!” he quipped back.

By that time I was puddling pre in my own bike-shorts. Watching my husband do anything is always stimulating much less seeing him flirt with another hot guy. Watching this sexy young buck in my hubby’s cross-hairs had me all revved-up.

“I might not make it home,” I told Kent; he knew exactly what I meant.

“There’s a restroom inside,” Nicky offered helpfully and totally missed my intent. “But I really have to get going. Let me give you my number this time.”

“No need,” Kent said decisively. Nicky’s smile fell-off immediately at the rebuke and Kent threw him a bone (but not the one he wanted!). “We know where to find you. And we will.”

Kent’s promise wasn’t hollow; wouldn't have said it if he didn’t mean it. But it also made me even hotter if that could even be possible with my nuts on full boil by then. I might blow my wad in my shorts any second.

“Okay then,” Nicky said reluctantly and took a step away. “I hope you do. Nice meeting you Kent. And nice seeing you Al.” He threw an obvious glance down to the outline of my boner obscenely displayed in my skin-tight bike shorts before he took off jogging up the beach-walk.

“About that restroom,” Kent said to me.

I shuddered with anticipation. “God I need you in me.”

“Fuck that!” Kent dismissed me; apparently he was full Alpha still. “I’ll let you blow me though.” He walked off without waiting for my reaction; he knew I'd follow.

“Yes sir!” I said redundantly under my breath and stumbled over a chair and bumped into the metal cafe table getting after him.

Kent and I went into the Starbucks restroom together without bothering to hide it. I was on my knees and pawing at his shorts to free his sweaty dick and sac in a split second. Kent laughed and taunted me. “Too impatient to lock the restroom door?”

He knew I was; the fucker! I had one hand gripping his cock as I licked the slick off his tip and let my head spin from the rich musk of his foreskin. My other hand was on my own throbbing hard-on which I had out and was stroking already spreading my own pre.

Kent reached over me and threw the lock. “Make it quick,” Kent ordered. And then he nonchalantly added, “Coffee makes guys piss. I don’t want to make whoever's waiting uncomfortable just because my cock-slut of a husband has to have my cock.” Yup; full alpha.

His Alpha taunting had the desired effect. I went at him with every trick I’ve learned in my half century of life. Wait I mean for the thirty or so of those years that I’ve been an adult; I don’t want to give anyone who reads this the wrong impression. Ha ha.

First I gently but insistently stroked his long thick bull-cock nearer the base while I swirled my tongue around his head inside his foreskin. He tasted just like a man should; earthy, musky, sweaty, and with a remnant of the strong Duke Cannon soap I’d bought us after that first day with Nicky. I recognized Nicky’s scent that day when I got to the register and smelled it on the impulse buy shelf; a display of Duke Cannon soaps and other men's grooming products. I hurriedly found the big bar that matched Nicky's scent and threw it in with my intended purchases. Kent had liked it when I presented it to him after he'd finished fucking me. 

Kent moaned his response and clutched my head unnecessarily; no way I was leaving his juicy rod. I had making him lose control in my mind. 

I sucked slow and fast, deep to his musky pubes then only a few inches, licked his head like an ice cream cone, and stroked him and swirled my tongue while I sucked him; all the ways that take him up that ladder. I throated his big monster again as I learned to love to do. As he got closer he began fucking my face and grunting; I was moaning around my over-filled mouthful of him. I had my hand gripping his balls and tightly pulling them like I know stokes him and with a long hiss and suppressed moan my husband began shuddering and then blasting hard with his groin grinding my nose and slamming into me hard enough to hurt.

That triggered my own release and I was shooting off with long jets that sprayed out between Kent’s widely-planted feet. I moaned like a bitch in heat around his still-throbbing cock and kept swallowing to get all his ample output.

Kent roughly pulled me up and I knew my cock was still dripping and oozing my seed and probably sliming his and my shorts. He kissed me even more roughly than he’d yanked me to my feet; my head was already spinning and his kiss made me grab him tighter to keep from falling. Then he pushed me off him and turned to the mirror. “God I taste strong. No wonder you are such a slut for my jizz!” Then he looked down. “Clean this up. I didn’t give you permission to cum; just to service me. You’ll pay for that when we get home.”

I did pay for it handsomely; but with pleasure.

—— note ——

In case you wonder this is a one-off story; we haven’t contacted Nicky the Lowes slut.

At least not yet.