The once luscious copse of trees outside my office window had been gone for months, replaced first by a muddy lot and then by the stark slab of concrete that would be the foundation of the new building. The tranquility had vanished, and with it, my ability to concentrate. Even lunch felt like a chore; the bench I usually sat on faced the empty space where the trees had stood, a constant reminder of what the bulldozers had ripped away. The silence they left behind was heavier than the noise they had made.
The day the crew arrived to erect the metal skeleton, a strange current hummed through the air, and my attitude shifted. A team of good-looking young men moved with a practiced, almost predatory grace across the site. They bolted this piece to that, their movements a symphony of industry. I must admit, I got very little work done that week. My favorite was the welder. He’d finish a task, strip off his heavy jacket, and reveal a body sculpted by hard work, the thin cotton of his wife-beater clinging to the sweat on his skin. During his lunch break, he’d sit facing my building, and I got an eyeful. What I couldn’t see, I imagined, and my imagination was a fertile, feverish place.
I envisioned walking over there, the words spilling out of me, telling him exactly what he did to me. I imagined kissing him, the taste of metal and sweat on his lips, letting him take me right there against the unfinished wall. Sometimes, fantasies are the only thing keeping you going, but they’re a poor substitute for the warmth of a real body next to yours. I imagined him coming home with me, his tired voice recounting his day as I made dinner for us. We’d shower together, the steam fogging the glass, and make love before falling asleep in a tangle of limbs. Can a man fall in love with someone he’s never spoken to? As the week drew to a close, the question gnawed at me.
It was Friday. All day, a mantra played in my head: Go talk to him. But as the sun began to dip lower, casting long shadows across the construction site, I knew I didn’t have the balls. I watched him until five-thirty, his silhouette sharp against the fading light. I knew I couldn’t stay in the empty office building any longer. I headed out to my car, the click of the unlock button echoing in the quiet garage. Just as the doors unlocked, I heard it. “Hey. Hey.”
My blood ran cold. The welder was walking toward me, his boots crunching on the gravel. I was frozen to the spot. Was he going to beat me up for staring? My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat of panic.
“You just going to fucking go home without saying anything to me? I mean, after watching me all week?” His voice wasn’t angry; it was something else, something hot and indignant that sent a shiver down my spine.
I looked from his intense eyes to the ground, a scuff of dirt on my shoe suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world. I had no idea how to answer.
“Are you that shy?” he pressed.
I looked back up and managed a weak nod. “Yeah.”
How could a man so covered in the day's grime look so devastatingly sexy?
“Hell, man. You’re going to miss out on life. Let me tell you, this week I’ve had three guys from this building offer to blow me, and two different women and a guy tell me they’d sneak me inside so I could fuck ‘em. But I was thinking no fucking way. I want to talk to that cute guy who keeps looking at me. Didn’t you see me looking at you?”
He was looking at me? How the hell? I glanced at my office window, the mirrored glass now reflecting the twilight sky, and realized that with the light on inside, you could see in as plain as day.
“I saw you looking toward my office,” I stammered, “but I didn’t realize you could see me.”
“Ha! It’s a good thing you didn’t whip it out and pull on it then.” He chuckled, a low, quiet sound that vibrated right through me. “Of course, I would have enjoyed the show. My name’s Shane Walker.”
I shook his outstretched hand, his grip firm and calloused. “I’m Jason Carter.”
Shane held on after the shake was over, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “So, you’re the quiet type, ain’t you, Jason? I hope you don’t think I’m too rowdy ‘cause I kind of liked that you were looking at me, and I thought we might be friends.”
“Friends?” The word felt small and sharp in my throat. I wasn’t sure he could tell, but every nerve ending in my body was screaming with a sexual attraction so potent it was terrifying. It wouldn’t take much for him to get me into bed, even as my brain whispered a frantic warning to be careful.
“That’s right. If I’d have just wanted a fuck, I’d have taken on that guy named Tom. I mean, he wasn’t bad looking, but I think he was married. Not that I’d have done him; I don’t do married guys. Anyway, just so you know, I ain’t into pussy, not female pussy anyway.” He smiled, a slow, easy curve of his lips. “And just so you know, I talk big, like I fuck anything that might stop moving long enough for me to grab on, but I ain’t really like that.” He paused. “I’m rambling, ain’t I.”
I smiled back, trying to hide my surprise. My mind reeled with the thought of other people in my building offering him sex. I only knew one Tom. There had to be another.
“You’ve got a cute smile there. So, you wanna get something to eat, get to know each other better.”
“I’d like that, Shane. Shall we ride together?” I asked, my voice barely steady.
“Oh, fuck no. I’d get your car dirty. My camper is just up the road. Follow me there and I’ll get cleaned up. I’m sure you don’t want to be seen in public with me dirty and stinkin’ like this.”
“I haven’t noticed a bad smell,” I told him, and I meant it. I saw his cheeks flush a faint red, a startling vulnerability on his confident face.
“I’m in that old white Ford, just up the road there to the left; it’s less than a mile, where the construction equipment is.”
I got in my car and backed out, my hands trembling slightly on the steering wheel. Waiting for Shane to pull in front of me, I couldn’t believe this was happening. While he seemed only a year or two younger, there was a youthful energy about him that made me smile. He was undeniably attractive; that East Texas accent of his might get on my nerves eventually, but right now, it was cute as fuck. And I liked that he wanted to see if we could be friends first. Maybe friends first, then… I pulled my upper lip into my mouth. He was sexy, no doubt. But I had a feeling there could be more than that.
We traveled to a large lot where several temporary buildings and other pieces of heavy equipment sat like sleeping beasts. A small camper stood in the corner. Shane parked his truck next to it, and I pulled up behind him. He exited his truck and just stood there for a moment, staring at the camper. He looked utterly exasperated.
I got out. “Are you OK?”
“I can’t fucking believe it. They moved my camper,” he said, his voice tight with frustration as he came closer. “They moved my fucking camper.”
“Did they damage it?” I asked, not understanding the problem.
“I sure as hell hope not, but now it has no electricity or water. What the fuck were they thinking?”
“No idea,” I said, but the problem-solver in me kicked in. “Why don’t you get a change of clothes and follow me to my house. I have a spare room. You can shower, wash your dirty clothes, and we can order pizza.”
He stared at me, his eyes wide. “But you don’t know me. You’d let me stay over?”
“Are you likely to murder me in my bed?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light.
A slow grin spread across his face. “If I was to be in your bed, murdering you is not what I’d be doing. Fuck, but you’re cute.” He turned and took a step toward the trailer, then glanced back over his shoulder. “And you’re nice, too.”
I smiled back. Was I? Or was I letting his hot body and my own loneliness make a dangerously poor decision? As I looked at him, I realized I was thinking more about the man than his muscles.
“Now it’s your turn to follow me,” he said.
“I think I liked it better when I was in front,” he grinned again, waggling his eyebrows. “Where to? You’re the boss now.”
“Corner of Maple and Red Oak. My driveway’s on Red Oak, but the address is 3200 Maple.”
“I’ll be right on your tail,” he laughed, tossing his things into the truck and getting in.
I drove straight home, questioning my sanity with every turn of the wheel. Did I want to be friends with a good old boy welder from East Texas? Damn straight, I did. What about having a boyfriend that other guys wanted to blow at the drop of a hat, that even married men wanted to get plowed by? Would I be jealous? Maybe. Was he worth it? I
I had a feeling he was. I told myself that this weekend was a time of discovery. If I didn’t invest the time to find out, I would never know.
I pulled into the garage, and he pulled onto the driveway, parking with a considerate angle that still allowed me to back out if I needed to. I went to him and took the laundry bag from his hands, our fingers brushing. The simple contact sent a jolt through me. We went inside, and I kicked off my shoes, placing his bag at the entrance to the laundry room.
“Let me show you the spare room.” Shane removed his dusty work boots, setting them neatly next to my shoes, and followed me through the kitchen and across the living room.
“That’s one honking big fireplace,” he commented, his voice full of genuine appreciation.
“They told me it was built so people could cook in it,” I said, leading him down the hall.
I showed him the guest room and its adjoining bathroom. “Towels are in the closet. What do you like on your pizza?”
“Anything is good, thanks. I like everything.”
“Thin crust, or regular?”
“Thin. Shit, but you really are sweet,” he said, his eyes soft.
I ignored the comment, my heart doing a little flip. “Toothbrushes are in this drawer. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks.” I left him, and a moment later, I could hear him singing in the shower. He had a good voice, a clear tenor, and the East Texas twang was barely perceptible in the melody. I wondered if he might enjoy a karaoke night. I resisted the powerful urge to walk in and ask if he needed anything else, the thought of him, naked and wet, giving me an undeniable twitch in my groin. I took a deep breath and went to my own room to change into sweat shorts and a t-shirt.
I was coming out of the bedroom when the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” called Shane from the bathroom.
I heard the door open, and a familiar voice said, “You’re not Dr. Carter.”
I stepped around the corner. “There you are.”
“How are you, Mark?” The pizza delivery boy was the son of a coworker; I’d known him for years.
“Doing OK, sir. Thanks.”
Shane smiled at Mark. “You must order a lot of pizzas to know the pizza guy by his first name.”
“My dad works with Dr. Carter,” Mark interjected.
“Really? Who’s your dad?” asked Shane.
“Tom Starky.”
Shane’s smile didn’t falter, but his eyes flickered with recognition. “Wait, is he about my height, thinning blondish-brown hair, mustache, and glasses?”
“Sounds like him,” Mark nodded.
“So, you work with my dad?” Shane asked, smoothly moving the topic along.
“No. But I’ve met him. Anyway, that pizza for us?” he asked, turning back to me.
“Here’s your tip, Mark,” I said, handing him a ten. I turned to Shane. “You want to take that into the kitchen?”
“Sure.”
I turned back to Mark. “You stay safe. I heard the wind pick up a bit ago.”
“Yeah, it’s supposed to rain, maybe even storm some,” he said as he walked to his car. I watched until his taillights disappeared down the street and closed the door.
I found Shane leaning against the kitchen counter, the pizza box open in front of him. He looked at me, his expression unreadable for a second. “Hey, Jason, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have let you answer the door.”
“It’s OK. Nothing happened. The real crime here is the shirt you’re wearing. Arkansas. Really?”
He looked down at his shirt and then back at me, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I can take it off,” he suggested. “Then I’d get arrested for my thoughts.”
I laughed, the tension breaking. “They can’t do that; not yet anyway.”
Shane was smiling again. He smiled so easily, and it was infectious. “Well,” I told him, “I want to listen to what you have to say instead of staring at your nipples as they bounce around while you eat your pizza.”
“So, you like my titties?”
“Men have chests or pecs,” I corrected him.
“No, they have titties and pussies, too,” he shot back with a grin. “Maybe I’ll show you mine sometime.” He laughed again. “But now it’s time for the fucking pizza.” He turned and slapped his own ass, a soft, playful sound. I felt a corresponding stiffness in my pants.
“Wine or Coke with the pizza?”
“Coke. Wine would make my thinking fuzzy, and you’re already making me think fuzzy.”
“Am I?” I asked, my voice softer than I intended.
“Eat here or on the couch?”
“The couch.”
We both looked up as the first drops of rain began to hit the large picture window. It was heavier than I expected. I had a metal roof, and the sound quickly grew from a patter to a loud, percussive drumming that filled the room. Our eyes met as we looked back down at each other, and we both started laughing.
“Grab some pizza,” I said. “I’ll pour the drinks.”
We settled onto the couch, the storm raging outside, and ate in a comfortable silence. I noticed Shane shiver, and when it happened a second time, I asked if he wanted me to start a fire.
“Sure,” he said softly. “I’ll help.”
“The logs are in this little alcove,” I said, getting up. “You want to put some in the fireplace. I’ll get some blankets out of the closet to put on the floor in front of the hearth, and we can sit closer.”
“No kindling?”
“Nope. I make it easy on myself.”
“I think they call that cheating,” he laughed as he picked up a few logs.
By the time I had the blankets laid out, he already had a fire going, the flames licking at the dry wood and casting a warm, flickering glow across the room. The wind howled around the corners of the house, a wild counterpoint to the crackling fire. I poured us a little more Coke and placed the glasses on the stones of the raised hearth before turning off the lights.
The orange flames forced shadows to dance on the walls, the flickering light highlighting the strong lines of Shane’s face and the stubborn set of his jaw. I reached out and brushed his damp bangs from his eyes, my fingers lingering for a moment on his temple.
“Tell me something you wouldn’t ordinarily tell someone,” I requested, my voice low.
He stared into the fire for a long moment. “I was a regular slut in high school.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” I raised my eyebrows, tilting my head to let him know it was his turn.
“I was in a state of confusion back then,” he said, his voice heavy with memory. “I was so fucking confused that I was blowing guys on the football team, and to prove I wasn’t gay, I boned a couple of cheerleaders at the same time. Until one of them told me she was pregnant. Fucking scared the life out of me. Turned out she had an STD, which scared me even more. I didn’t catch it, but it made me rethink things.”
“So you stopped fucking around?”
“Hell no. I just found one guy who liked to get banged, and I always wore a fucking rubber. But he left town, and I went to trade school. The guys there are too scared to admit they like to get fucked, so I found a regular buddy on Grindr.”
“You’re not looking for love?”
“Who needs love when you’ve got a tight hole to fuck?” he laughed, but it sounded hollow.
“What if love comes looking for you?” I asked, turning to face him fully.
He looked at me, the playful smirk gone, replaced by something raw and uncertain. “And finds you,” he whispered.
I looked into his eyes, searching. Could he be a serious boyfriend, maybe more? I liked his charm, his surprising openness, the way he could be boisterous one moment and vulnerable the next. “I mean like maybe now?” his voice was barely audible. I saw him swallow hard.
“I need to fucking think about this.” He pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the stone hearth, the firelight behind him turning him into a silhouette. “Want another piece of pizza while you think?”
“Yeah, another piece will be fucking awesome. But just one piece. I need to keep these abs flat so you’ll keep lusting after me.”
I stood up. “You think your abs are the reason I lust after you?”
“Well, ain’t they?” he asked sincerely.
“While thinking about them might make my dick twitch a little,” I said, stepping closer, “it’s your smile and that little cleft in your chin that make me lust after you.” He touched his hand to his chin, his expression one of disbelief. “And it’s the way you talk about things that makes me like you.”
I left to get us another slice of pizza. When I walked back into the room, he was staring at his feet, wiggling his toes as he watched them. Had he never considered that he wanted more than a friend when he told me he wanted to see if we could be friends? I assumed he still had his buddy back home. I sat next to him, making sure our legs were in contact, and handed him a slice on a paper towel.
“What about your friend back home?” I asked him.
“I haven’t had a buddy in a couple of years,” he said, his voice quiet. “He said he wanted more than a guy who worked all the time and fucked him every other Saturday night.”
“What are you looking for, Shane?” I asked, my own heart pounding in my ears.
He finally looked at me, the firelight reflected in his eyes. “I guess I want someone I can talk to. I guess I’m tired of being fucking alone. I want somebody I can text or call.”
What was I looking for? The question echoed in my own mind. I put my arm around him; it felt like the most natural thing in the world. The fire at our backs kept us warm, my leg against his made me feel connected, and with my hand on his shoulder, I wanted him to know that I wanted him to stay.
Shane broke the silence, his voice barely a whisper. “When I saw you, while you were in your office, I thought that I wanted you to be a friend. I was thinking about how nice it would be if you pulled out your phone and sent me a message. Fucking weird, huh?”
“Not really.”
“What were you thinking when you watched me?” he asked, turning his body toward me.
“Honestly?” I asked.
“Fuck yeah. I’ve got the balls for it. Lay it on me.” There was that smile again, but it was softer now, more tentative.
“When I first saw you, all I could see was how sexy you were; I imagined you pumping your seed into me,” I admitted, my cheeks flushing. “As the week went on, I kept imagining what it would be like to go home with you and talking and making love and snuggling.”
“What are you thinking now?” he asked, his voice husky.
I looked over at him. Would telling him cheapen what was happening? As he looked at me, I felt myself harden. “When you look at me like that…”
“What?” he asked in a whisper.
“I’m just fucking looking at you.”
“No. You’re looking into me,” I said, my voice cracking slightly. “And it makes me want you. I want to feel myself inside you, and I want to feel you inside me. I want to know you physically, and I want to know all about you. I want to wake up tomorrow holding you. I want to walk on a hiking trail holding your hand. I want to see what you’re seeing, and I want to share with you what I’m seeing. And, Shane, on Monday, when you’re done with work, I want you to come here and tell me about your day.”
For the first time that evening, I couldn’t read him. His face was a mask of shock, his mouth slightly agape. I’d pushed too hard; I could tell by the look in his eyes. He could have any guy he wanted for sex, and he wanted someone for friendship. I wanted friendship, too, but I knew that I already wanted more with him. But I had lost him.
“Shane,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “I want you to think about what I just said. I’m going to take a shower and get into bed. If you want to explore the possibilities I’ve talked about, come join me. If not, the spare bedroom has clean sheets, and you are welcome to use the washer and dryer tomorrow.”
I got up and walked to my room, my legs feeling like lead. I turned the shower on extra hot, the steam quickly fogging up the glass. Not even the scalding water could stop the burning tears that finally broke free. I’d pushed too hard; I could tell by the expression on his face.
-2-
I stepped out of the shower still sobbing, my eyes burning and bloodshot. I toweled my head and was reaching for my toothbrush when Shane stepped into the doorway, filling it with his presence.
“What’s the matter?” his tone was sharp, laced with an anger that took me by surprise.
“I’ve screwed up,” I choked out. “I’ve scared you off, and all I wanted to do was to bring you closer.”
“Jason, you’re a fucking idiot,” he said, his voice softening as he stepped forward. “You didn’t scare me off. In fact, you made me want to be with you. I’m a fucking idiot, too. I wanted to jump in the sack with you from the start, but I thought if we talked a little and became friends, you wouldn’t go looking for someone else.”
I stood shivering with a towel in my hands. “Dry yourself off,” he told me as he stripped off his shirt and then his pants, his movements sure and deliberate. We stood facing each other, naked and vulnerable in the steamy bathroom. His penis erected as he looked at me, rising to meet my own gaze.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” his voice was barely a whisper.
He stepped forward, his dick bumping against mine, and he breathed into my ear as his tongue touched my earlobe. Shane kissed me, and I opened my lips to let his tongue pleasure my mouth. My moans began as low, guttural signs of acceptance. I pushed my tongue against his, and he began to suck on it, sending static electrical impulses shooting through me. I reached around him, holding each firm mound of his ass in the palms of my hands, and pulled him against me. Our dicks ground against each other, the pleasure unlike anything I had ever felt. How could just kissing someone feel like this?
I felt Shane’s lips move away from my mouth and down my neck, and my own dick jerked in response. His mouth continued to my chest, his tongue playing with my nipple as he sucked my skin into his mouth. Lightheaded, I gripped the door frame with one hand as I ran the fingers of my other hand through his hair. I bent my head forward, and he released my nipple to meet my lips again. I truly believe that had I died at that moment, I would not have felt cheated by life.
Shane pulled me over to the bed, and I pulled the covers down. He pushed me back, but I pulled him with me, and we fell together onto the bed in a heap of tangled limbs. We laughed. I sensed his knee between my legs, and he brought it up, applying a delicious pressure to my balls. I kissed him and reached down to wrap my fingers around his dick. A nice thickness, not too large, but definitely not thin, his shaft was straight and ended in an uncircumcised foreskin I couldn’t wait to play with.
As if he knew what I was thinking, Shane straddled my chest and teased my lips with his cock. I could taste the precum as I licked the head with my tongue. I wanted to grab him and shove him into my mouth, but he had pinned my arms to my sides.
“No hands,” said Shane. “Just your lips and your tongue. Make love to my dick.”
I bent my head forward, taking as much of him as I could. I could only get about three inches of the shaft into my mouth, but I was able to run my tongue under the foreskin, eliciting a low, “Oh, fuck yeah.”
“No, no, no,” he suddenly said, pulling back. “You’re not going to make me fucking come this fast.” He stood on his knees next to me. “Move your ass over here,” he said as he grabbed my legs and positioned my head closer to the edge of the bed before flipping me onto my front. My knees were pushed apart; then his hands grabbed the mounds of my ass cheeks and separated them. The wetness of his tongue against my hole caused an immediate string of moans. No one had ever given me a rim job, but I knew instantly that I loved it. My head reflexively moved backward as I responded to the sensation of Shane’s tongue pushing into me.
“Yes, Shane. I love it. Don’t stop, please,” I cried.
He pulled back. “So you like it when I fuck you with my tongue?” He slapped my cheek softly. “When my tongue gets tired, I’m going to push my cock into you.” He went back to licking my hole and pushing his tongue inside, and I closed my eyes and clenched my fists. This was unexpected and so wonderful. I was suddenly flipped onto my back, my legs thrown over his shoulders as my ass was lifted into the air. Shane’s tongue continued to drive me crazy as he pushed saliva into me. He replaced his tongue with a finger, and I heard him chuckle as he hit my spot, his finger plunging inside. I squealed as he moved in and out of me. I’d never had a partner finger fuck me, but Shane’s skill was better than any man’s dick.
I was on cloud nine when I felt the pressure of his cock pushing against my entrance. His fingers had done their job, and his dick popped inside with just a little effort. I was still tight, and there was a little discomfort as I forced myself to relax and allow him in. His arms held my legs in a position that allowed him to penetrate me with a maximum of pleasure. Using Shane’s words, he was fucking awesome. I was tingling as he moved in and out, his lips finding mine for a passionate, loving kiss as his shaft buried itself inside me. He was able to sense things that no other man could feel. He would slow his thrusting as I neared orgasm, and once I had calmed, he would begin to fuck me again. He did this several times before I felt an urgency in his motions. He plunged into me until the hilt of his rod was completely inside, and he repeated this several times until he held himself tightly against me and filled me with his seed. His eyes rolled back, and then a smile broke through on his lips. He slowly slid his cock out of me and then began to cover my erection with his mouth. Copious amounts of saliva wet my shaft. He used his hand to transfer spit to his ass before straddling me and riding my dick. He shoved himself down rather quickly; I saw his face grimace and then soften before he began moving up and down. I didn’t last long, and when I came, I held his legs and shoved myself into him. Cum squirted from his hole as I shot my seed.
“Oh, fuck, Jason. I can feel you exploding inside me. Aww, fuck.” Shane moved next to me and kissed me. When he pulled his face away, I could see the raw emotion in his face. He pulled our heads together and kissed me again, more passionately than before. As he moved his head away a second time, I brushed his bangs away again.
“Jason. Fuck, Jason. I’m falling for you. Fuck but this feels great. And that was the best sex I’ve ever had. Fuck yeah.” He sat up in bed. “Let’s rinse off so we can cuddle and then fuck some more. Fuck, but I feel great.”
Thunder rumbled outside, a low, deep growl that vibrated through the floorboards. “Listen, Jason. The angels approve.”
I got up and led him to the shower. It was our first night of many, and it may not seem possible, but each time was better than the time before.
Author’s note: Shane never did clean up his language, but then, the swear jar that Jason started paid for their honeymoon to France.
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