The Little Guy

I had never been squeamish. At school, I had a friend who had lost his left eye in an accident as a child and had a prosthetic eye. Spooky as this was to some kids, it didn’t bother me. Another story I can relate concerns the life-partner of a friend of mine. He had lost his right hand in his youth when it got amputated after a snakebite. The missing hand also never fazed me. People with missing fingers and other unfortunate souls who had severe scars from burns and other disfigurements never made me feel uncomfortable. I always supposed that my mum, who had told me not to stare at people’s misfortunes, had played a vital role in my indifference to skittish superficiality.

At this point, however, I wish to make it clear that I have never had a warped or kinky penchant for deformity of any sort, and my entrenched motto in life was never to judge a book by its cover. Hopefully, I am not labouring the point, but for me, beauty was skin deep and needed no inhibitions. 

I was a salesman for a successful company selling all the products that anglers could require. I was not into fishing but had the gift of the gab. In fairness to myself, I also have to admit that in the redneck family I had grown up in, I got subjected to numerous fishing expeditions as a kid. As a result, I had picked up on many angling techniques from my dad and his hick buddies. In the speciality angling stores and outdoor retailers I supplied, thankfully, there was always a smartarse who knew it all and, therefore, I only had to tick the appropriate boxes on the order forms. Being a wizened salesman I had become, I learned the names of wives and kids, and any anecdotal bullshit about their ongoing mundane lives that I would refer to upon visits. This skill always impressed the shit out of the buyers and made them feel like I cared. A shameful yet effective tactic!

I had been in a gay relationship for about a year after my lover moved in with me. The house I had bought two years before had a fair-sized garden, and the two us had become keen gardeners.  Consequently, we were always visiting nurseries to enhance our newfound passion. It was this habit that led to the story I am about to relate to you.

On a Wednesday, as I was returning from a successful business trip slightly earlier than usual, I saw a sign that had eluded me on former visits. It was four-thirty in the afternoon when I saw a sign announcing a nursery up ahead. The spot was fairly remote, but I, nonetheless, decided to check it out. The visitor’s parking area was empty, and I wondered if they had already closed for the day. The front doors were open, however, and so I decided to check it out.  

Upon entering the large and neat structure, there was a yoking on his young man sitting at a desk, working on his computer. It was immediately apparent that he was a dwarf. He had a sweet cherubic face and was brimming with enthusiasm.

When he introduced himself as Noddy, I had to fight very hard not to laugh. Picking up on my bemused expression, he said, “Actually, my names’ Mark, but everyone just calls me Noddy.”

“What do you prefer?” I asked.

“Noddy is just fine,” he answered.

“Well, Noddy, my partner and I are keen gardeners, and I would like to around if I may.”

“Sure… What’s your partners’ name?” he asked with an air of anticipation.

“Peter. By the way, I’m Ken,” I replied.

My revelation acted like a green light for him. From here on, the look on Noddy’s face took on a distinct air of salaciousness as his eyes yo-yoed between my head and my crotch.

“Well, Ken, let me show you around,” he answered in a seductive voice laced with lust.

‘Christ, this is turning into an interesting afternoon,’ I intriguingly thought.

As Noddy waddled ahead of me down a wide aisle, he told me that the nursery belonged to his brother-in-law. As he walked and mentioned what was on offer in the passageways leading off from side to side, there was a suggestive husky growl to his tone.

“Anything, in particular, you’re after?” he asked seductively, as we continued on our journey.  

“Bulbs,” I answered.

“Oh, they are right at the end,” he informed me with a horny grin.

Once we had turned into the appropriate aisle, he pointed to a long table with all the varieties of bulbs they had on offer. Unlike most of the nursery that had double shelves, the prepacked bulbs were on a waist-high single-level table.

“Why don’t you lean in and have a look at what we have on offer?” Noddy suggested as he spread his arms wide, with his hands leaning on the edge of the table. As I bent over, my crotch was inches away from his right hand.

Maybe you should have a closer look,” Noddy provocatively stated.

By now, I was up to speed and horny. If this little fucker wanted it, I was going to give it to him, I thought.   

I very gently moved my hips forward, with my crotch lightly touching his fingers. Instantly, the knuckle of Noddy’s middle finger commenced rubbing against my semi-erect dick, which now got hard straight away.

As he began rubbed my crotch hard against his hand, I asked, “What do you want, Noddy?”

“I want to suck your cock,” Noddy blurted.

“Shouldn’t you lock the front door?” I inquired.

“It’s already too late for customers… But, okay, I suppose you’re right,” he answered before rushing off to do so.

During his absence, I removed my trousers and underpants. As he returned, his eyes lit up as he looked at my schlong. “You’ve got a nice big one,” he gushed.

“Then what are you waiting for, Noddy?... Get your mouth working,” I impatiently replied, bursting with horniness.

Noddy moved with the speed of a missile as he zeroed onto my dick. As my hands firmly took hold of his head, I began giving him a skull-fucking of dire proportions. To my amazement, Noddy was equal to the task, and as his stubby arms locked onto my hips, he gurgled and spluttered rapaciously. I could never remember ever before, getting such an enjoyable, proficient, or enthusiastic blowjob. Noddy certainly didn’t have choking issues and the most accommodating throat I had ever fucked.

After a few minutes, I felt his hands pushing my hips away. At first, I was afraid that I might have hurt him, but as I looked at his gorgeous eyes and gob-covered smiling face, I relaxed.

“Please, Ken, I want you to fuck my arse hard,” he pleaded.

Noddy now went into hyper-drive as his short arms worked like windscreen wipers as he pushed the bulbs to either side, before undressing and placing his shorts, underpants, and t-shirt over the table. Next, he jumped on the table before opening his legs and offering his backside to me.

“Don’t take it easy on me,” he said, before adding, “My brother-in-law, rough-fucks me all the time.”

As I looked at the sweetest and inviting arse I had seen in my life, and I couldn’t get over what was happening to me. I lost no time in parting the milky mounds before spitting on his pink pucker. Entranced, I watched my dick disappearing into his tiny hole to the sounds of excited whimpering.

As I commenced fucking him hard, Noddy’s head moved up and down and from side to side, as he grunted approvingly. The constriction of his sphincter was magical as it clamped onto my cock in a vicelike manner. This guy’s skills were endless.

Regrettably, I could not last more than a few minutes before my balls exploded in a delirious eruption.

Sad as I was about my early ejaculation when Noddy got off the table, I smiled when I saw the wet patch on his clothing.

As we walked to the front door, he asked, “Do you pass by this way often?”

“Every six weeks, “I answered.

“I hope you’ll call me next time,” he shyly asked.

“Noddy, you’ll be seeing me every six weeks,” I honestly answered.