The Hot Exterminator, A Palm Springs Story

Author's Note:  This is another partially true story.  I have changed the names and location but much of this happened.  Hope you enjoy!

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I had taken the plunge and bought a mid-century “butterfly” style home in Palm Springs.  I know, the typical gay man’s fantasy house.  I plead guilty.  I love that sleek modern look.  The only contingency was for inspections, of which there were several.  I had gone over to the house in The Movie Colony neighborhood early on a June morning to meet the seller’s realtor and await the termite inspector.  California, it turns out, is a haven for these pests.  It was already 95 degrees at 8:30 a.m., and I wore a tight fitting gray tank top and black gym shorts.  I was already glistening with sweat.

I stood 6’1” and weighed 185 pounds and was very fit in my early-50s.  I had shortish blonde hair with a little silver mixed in and blue eyes.  My goatee was closely trimmed and almost all silver.  My defined pecs were 46”.  My upper body was naturally hairless except for the trimmed dirty blonde hair in my pits and treasure trail leading down over my washboard abs to my crotch.  I kept my pubic region neatly trimmed.  My 7” cut cock was better than average and thick.

The attractive female realtor met me at the front gate with an appraising smile.  She couldn’t have been more than 28 or 29.  She introduced herself as Julie.  Fortunately, she had turned on the A/C before my arrival.  A few minutes after I got there, the gate buzzed.  I went back outside into the front courtyard and opened the gate.  What I found was a super hot masculine guy, wearing a tight blue polo shirt, with “Whittaker’s Pest Control” over his left pec in white letters.  He looked down at a clipboard in his right hand, checking something—maybe my address.  He had beige shorts and wore a utility belt around his mid-section.  He stood about 6’2” and probably weighed 200 pounds.  It was all deeply tanned muscle from what I could see.  His tattoo-covered biceps and forearms were pumped up, possibly from an early morning lifting session.  He had wavy black hair, hazel green eyes, a Roman nose and black stubble.  “Hey,” I blurted, “you’re the termite inspector?”  Sort of a dumb question but I didn’t want him to think I was mesmerized by his jacked body.  “That’s me,” he replied, “Tom’s my name.”  His demeanor was business-like.  No stares or winks.  Oh well, I thought to myself.  At least he would be easy on my eyes.

“Nice to meet ya,” I responded, “I’m Vinny.”  I beckoned for him to follow me into the house.  He saw the solarium off the main living area with its glass walls above wood paneling and suggested we start there.  Now it was my turn to follow, which I did while watching the imprint of his bubble butt and ass crack in what appeared to be stretchy fabric.  It didn’t look like he was wearing any briefs.  Maybe a jock strap, I thought to myself.  My cock perked up and I was semi-hard within seconds.  Before he turned back to me, I quickly adjusted the misbehaving member.

“Oh boy,” he blurted out by the window sill.  “What…what?” I stuttered.  He was shaking his head with mild disgust.  He said “I’ve seen this so many times.  They think they can fool us inspectors.”  “See what?” I asked.  He pointed at the sill, “Fresh caulking.  They just applied it.  It’s still wet.”  I looked more closely and saw the wet putty running along the top of the sill.  “Huh,” I said.  Tom took a screwdriver from his utility belt and began poking it into the caulking.  He punctured several holes then stopped.  “Watch this,” he said.  Sure enough, a few seconds later, an insect darted through the opening, followed by several more.  “Holy shit!” I exclaimed.  “Yeah, they knew they had termites and they think us inspectors were born yesterday.”  Julie the realtor popped her head into the solarium.  “Did you find something?” she asked, with a hint of concern in her voice.  “You could say that,” Tom said pointing at the termites.  “Oh!” she said and disappeared back into main living area.  I could hear her punching up numbers on her device.

Tom said “Let’s look at the outside.”  He opened the door onto the backyard patio with an inviting swimming pool and spa.  I followed, a bit distressed by his discovery and wondering what it would all mean for my negotiation with the seller.  I had two problems now:  termites and a loss of trust in the seller’s integrity for trying to cover up the problem.  But I had confidence in Tom.  He sank to his knees by the wood panelling on the outside of the sun room and began to scrape along the shelf below the windows.  I stood behind him and was again momentarily distracted, this time by his broad, muscled back that pressed against his tight polo.  The wood crumbled from the scraping.  “Dry rot,” Tom explained, adding “These panels have been destroyed.”  “Shit,” I muttered.  “I could treat the base of the walls,” the inspector said, “But, honestly, you’re looking at a demolition and rebuild of this room.”  “Oh jeez,” I responded, raising my arms above my head, “I loved this solarium.”  Tom stood up to face me.  There were droplets of sweat on his forehead.  He gave me a serious look that turned into more of a stare at my defined biceps and exposed pits.  Despite the bad news, I guess I had struck that pose on purpose—seeing if I could get a reaction.  And I did.  Tom’s eyes drifted southward to my swelling bulge before returning to my face.

“I need to check out the entire perimeter,” the sexy inspector said, “Do you mind if I take off my shirt?  It’s headed towards 100 degrees.”  “Uh…no, of course not,” I answered.  He nodded, removed his utility belt and pulled off his shirt, exposing his sculpted upper torso.  His body was smooth except for cropped black armpit hair.  He had no tattoos on his chest or abs.  His pecs must have been close to 50” with large brown nipples.  His eight pack had perfectly formed ridges.  There was no treasure trail, which made me wonder about his pubic region.  It was my turn to stare at his chest, abs and then his package.  His cock was definitely semi-hard.  It pointed downward but its mushroom head was visible in the fabric.  I wanted to fall to my knees and unzip his shorts.  When my eyes returned to meet his, I was rewarded with a smirk.  The muscle hunk knew he was ripped and had wanted to show off.  Tom had taken off his shirt to prove he was a cocky alpha.  I resisted the temptation to double bi-flex at him and said “Impressive physique.  You a bodybuilder?”  “Nah,” he answered, “I just keep fit and get in my lifting sessions on a regular basis.  What you’re seeing is all natural.”  “Oh,” I said, adding “Especially impressive.  And good not to be on steroids.”  I paused then said “I’ll get out of your way now.”  But before walking away, I did flex my right bicep, making sure he got a look at my defined peak.

Tom grinned and began to walk around the back of the house.  I went over to one of the recliner lounge chairs by the pool and laid down.  Every now and then, I snuck a glance at the muscle stud as he searched for more evidence of termites.  He disappeared from view and I closed my eyes.  I found myself day-dreaming about his hot body and cut cock.  The imprint of the shaft had made it look quite fat.  Length was indeterminate.  I imagined us naked in the pool, wrestling for dominance until I forced him to submit to my Full Nelson near the shallow end.  After taunting that he was my beta bitch now, I’d push the formerly cocky alpha stud up against a pool wall, then order him to bend forward, rest on his forearms, and spread his muscled legs.  I’d line up my hard cock with his smooth ass crack and push my swollen head into his pucker, pressing forward until I penetrated his outer and inner rings.  The tanned stud would be moaning like a cat in heat as he gave up his alpha hole to his Daddy Dom in the pool.  I reached my hand inside my gym shorts and jock and felt my erect cock.  It was moist from pre-cum.  I began to stroke it.  

“Hey Vinny,” a voice said, waking me from my day-dream.  “Yeah,” I said, startled.  My cock was fully erect and tenting my gym shorts upwards.  Tom was staring right at it.  “Oh…sorry!” I said sheepishly.  He smirked as I withdrew my hand and sat upright on the lounge chair.  His upper body was drenched in sweat, and I wanted to lick it from top to bottom—every nook and cranny.  “There’s good news,” he said, “I found no other evidence of termites.  The bad news is you’ll need to demolish that solarium and rebuild it.  I’ll write up my report and have the office email it to you.”  “Okay,” I said, “I appreciate the inspection.  At least I know what I’m getting into if this deal goes ahead.”  “Well, good luck with that,” Tom said, “If you do close on the purchase, you’ll want to sign up for our quarterly termite inspection service.”  “Yeah, that sounds like a smart idea,” I replied.  “And,” he added with a wink, “I handle all of those service calls.”

(To be continued.)