#2 - When the Delivery Guy Asked Me to Rub His Legs
A few days had passed since that first heavy delivery. I kept ordering random stuff online like always. Not because I needed it but because the afternoon deliveries had suddenly become the best part of my day. Trent showed up right on schedule most afternoons now. Sometimes with a package. Sometimes he just rolled up anyway after a long shift and knocked like we had already started some kind of routine.
Today, he dropped a small box on the porch then gave me that easy grin through the screen door.
“Mind if I sit for five minutes?" he asked. “These legs are toast after twenty miles in this heat.”
I told him of course and stepped aside to let him in.
He walked straight to the couch and dropped down heavy. His thick thighs spread wide the second he sat. Those black cycling shorts rode up high again showing off every inch of tanned muscle. The fabric stretched so tight across his quads it looked like it might rip if he flexed too hard.
He stretched his legs out long and groaned. “Man these things are killing me today,” he said , slapping one quad so the sound cracked loud in the room. I laughed and sat across from him trying to keep it casual.
“You always ride that far?" I asked.
Trent nodded and wiped sweat from his forehead with the bottom of his shirt.
“Every damn day,” he said. “But I love it. Love training legs. The burn feels good. Heat can be a pain in the ass though.” He laughed low and deep like it was the funniest thing.
The conversation stayed light and bantery. I told him about staring at my screen all morning trying to finish some code and he shook his head. “No way I could sit still that long," he said. “I would lose my mind. You got the easy job.”
I joked back that at least I did not have to dodge crazy drivers and he grinned wider. We talked about his route and some hill that nearly smoked him earlier. All the while my eyes kept drifting down to those massive quads. They looked even thicker today. Veins popped under the skin from the ride. Sweat made the muscle shine under the thin fabric.
Then he casually offered me a feel as if he knew that I had been staring at his legs all this time.
“Here check this out” he said “After twenty miles these get solid as rock.” He flexed his right quad right there on the couch. The muscle jumped and hardened pushing the shorts even tighter. I reached over slow trying to act like it was no big deal between dudes. My fingers pressed into the warm hard muscle through the thin fabric.
“Fuck man these are insane” I said before I could stop myself. The quad felt like warm stone under my palm. Dense and powerful. Trent flexed again when I squeezed and the muscle bulged bigger swelling against my hand.
“See what I mean,” he laughed. “Rock hard right.”
I kept my voice steady and gave it another appreciative squeeze. “Yeah these are no joke," I told him. “You really put in the work.”
The scent of sweat and effort filled the room. Clean masculine heat from hours on the bike mixed with something deeper that made my pulse race. I could feel the heat of his skin coming right through the shorts. My own body felt small next to all that power but the sight of those thighs up close was doing things to me I could not ignore.
Trent laughed it off easy. “I love training legs," he said again. “Love cycling. The heat sucks sometimes but the results speak for themselves.” He let me keep my hand there a few seconds longer while we kept talking about nothing important. Then he finally stood up and stretched those quads one last time. “Gotta finish the deliveries” he told me. “But I will swing by again if that’s cool.”
I nodded and gave him a fist bump on the way out. The door closed behind him and I sat there for a long minute replaying the feel of that warm quad under my hand. The way it flexed. The way it strained against the fabric. The scent that still lingered in the air. I knew these stops were going to happen more often now and the thought made my cock twitch before I could even stand up.
A few days later, Trent knocked like usual but this time he looked beat. He dropped onto the couch heavier than normal and let out a low whimper.
“Aah aah fuck. These things are wrecked,” he groaned, stretching his legs out long. The black cycling shorts pulled tight across his massive quads and I could see every deep cut of muscle straining against the fabric.
I felt the spark hit me hard and the words were out before I could stop myself. “I can work on them if you want," I said, trying to sound casual.
Trent looked at me and his face lit up. “Fuck man you serious? Thanks bro. You are a fucking savior” he said.
He leaned back and spread those thick thighs wider. The fabric strained hard around the meat of his legs. I dropped to my knees in front of the couch so I was eye level with the muscle. My hands went straight to his right quad first. The skin was warm and damp with leftover sweat from the ride. I pressed my thumbs and fingers deep into the thick meat working out the knots with slow firm strokes.
Trent let out a subtle moan right away. “Shit fuck bro right there,” he said when I hit a tight spot.
“Press harder.”
I dug in deeper and the quad jumped under my touch. The muscle was so dense it felt like it could crush stone. I watched his face as I worked him. His eyes half closed his mouth parted just a little exactly like the expression guys get when their dick is getting sucked good and slow. I worked both hands up and down the full length feeling every ridge and swell.
Trent moaned again low and deep. “Yeah just like that, dude” he breathed. “Harder.”
The conversation stayed light and bro-like between us. He joked about how dudes help each other out all the time.
“Thanks man,” he said. “I owe you one.”
I joked back that I did not mind at all and I looked up at him with a little mischief in my eyes while my hands kept working higher on his thigh.
My hands roamed higher each time. The fabric strain became impossible to ignore. The shorts were stretched to the absolute limit now. Every press made the muscle twitch and bulge bigger under my palms. Trent shifted on the couch and I noticed the bulge in front starting to thicken fast. His cock was getting hard from the touch. The outline pushed against the thin material thick and obvious.
I felt the first real rush of filthy temptation flood through me. My own cock was rock hard in my shorts. The words slipped out before I could think twice.
“Want me to help you with that?”
The question hung in the air between us.
Trent moaned again when I hit another knot but then he blinked hard like he had just snapped back to reality.
“Uh it’s cool man," he said, his voice a little rougher now.
He sat up abruptly and fast.
“I’ve gotta finish the rest of the deliveries,” he said but the words came out quickly like he was trying to convince himself more than me.
I pulled my hands back slowly. “Sorry about that," I said.
“Nah bro” he replied. “I really do have to finish the deliveries.”
I got up and looked at him. “You sure I did not uh say too much?”
Trent smiled that easy grin again. “I am sure,” he said.
The bulge in his shorts was still there straining hard. He adjusted quickly and headed for the door.
Then he stopped in the doorway and turned back.
“How about I swing by after I finish my deliveries?" he asked. “Maybe like after seven?”
I grinned wide. “Oh for sure,” I told him.
“I’ll be free. Just drop by when you are done.”
Trent nodded, smiled and walked out to his bike. I stood at the window and watched him swing one thick leg over the frame. Those massive quads flexed hard as he pushed off and started pedaling down the street. My mind was already spinning with filthy thoughts for the evening.
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