It’s my day off and the air is so stagnant in my apartment.  The fan brings little relief.   Above I hear scraping, hauling, heavy steps, another apartment vacated and in need of mending.  I am wondering if it’s the one I like, Rob, toiling away.  I recently met him when he repainted the laundry room and the back entrance I always use. Seeing him poke his head from behind the laundry room door, I could tell from the meaty arm resting against the door, the rest will thicken my cock.  He steps out and I am not disappointed. He is taller than I, beefy arms, chest, shoulders, thighs, ass; just slabs of hard meat, but all natural.  We shake hands and introduce.

“I am glad I got to see you.” He says. “I was wondering how all this was going work out—you know, giving you access to the stairwell.” I am looking at him, not really listening, noting details instead: blue grey; curling mustache, great smile; big teeth; bow legged; incredible handshake; puffy chest and ass; wedding ring. Married men seem to be the taste we all crave to sample. It just feels like the cheating is somehow more a conquest.

“Well I’ll be around all day, if you need anything.”  He did not bite, the ring won-this time.

As I sit with coffee, I remember the details.  Getting a hard on, I decide to rub one out, the handy man on my mind.  My hand strokes away as images of deep throating his thick cock; while he moans and tell me dirty things, he might demand.  I eat these up like I eat up his throbbing prick down to the base like a starving faggot who has not gotten enough cum this month.  His body, thick and sprawled above me will soon twitch and sweat, and spurt, and I want to absorb all that from this fleshy man. My load bursts splattering my thighs and bar stool.  I swipe my tongue over my fingers and hands, and take another sip of coffee.

People rarely knock on my door, as this is a secured building, so when the quick raps sounded I am puzzled.  To my delight, the beefy man of my jerk off fantasy is in front of me.

“Hey are you the one with the broken closet door?”

“Yep, that’s me.” I completely forgot I had made the call to have someone replace it. I let him in, and he flips on the light. His hands have short fingers, but thick, rough palms.  I stand back as he assesses the situation.  He peers up into the closet, and his loose T-shirt rides up.  I see the cleft going down into his jean shorts. I see the top of his white briefs peeking out from behind the denim. I am trying not to get hard again as he inspects.  He is already sweating.  I see stains under his arms, and down his back.  Delicious man smell, he steps back and takes off his glasses, handing them to me.

“You mind?”


I hold the black eighties era square rims, and try not gawk as he hauls his T-shirt up to wipe the sweat from his face. He faces me so I get a good look at his torso.   Not extremely hairy, mostly around his nipples, and between his pecs; continuing in a trail down his mid-section leading into his jeans. I see the front part of his white briefs and his generous mound of crotch. I think he hangs to the left, but maybe just front and center. The jeans are pretty loose.  His nipples are small, brown, and already stiff from rubbing against his wet shirt.  It happens all too quick, and the shirt is back down.

“I usually got a handkerchief, but I left it in the truck.” He grins. Big white teeth, and a sleazy mustache, shorter than I remember; but I am still horny for a ride.  “Anyway, I can get this fixed up.  It will need to get replaced. Come here, let me show you.” His big hand beckons.

We stand close together, his tree limb bicep brushing mine. I feel the shock of heat, and almost quiver.  He talks about the damage done, and I look attentive, but I am missing most of it watching his expressions as I stack up fantasies.

“I see.” Then I make a bold move. “You got some serious guns, man.  You work out, or you just been doing manual labor all your life?”

“You like these?” He makes a muscle and nods his assent for me to touch them.  My hand covers just the top half. I squeeze and he keeps talking.  “I been doing this for ten years or more, probably closer to fifteen now.”  With the position of his arm I can smell the man scent and his deodorant mingling, wafting through the shirt sleeve. I make a circle on his arm, and he does not protest.

“This job has done your body right.” I look him up and down, moving to the other flexed arm.

He shakes his head.

“Are you hitting on me?” He still doesn’t move.

I take my hand away this time.

“Sorry, just commenting–mere observation.” All lies.  “I didn’t mean to.”  I back away. He shakes his head, still grinning.

“It’s cool.  I am a married man, and my old lady ain’t said nice things about my body in a long time.” He looks off at nothing, or a scene of disappointment. “Now it’s ‘you stink-go take a shower’” He looks at me, making a sound kind of like a growl.  Then the smile comes back. “Well, I’ll be back in about a half hour to replace your door, how’s that sound?”

“I’ll be here all day.”


Rob knocks again. I let him in. His shirt is really soaked with sweat. It clings everywhere and he is dripping.

“Man, you want a glass of water, or something?”  It’s so humid out, I feel bad for any man working out in this shit.  He groans and coughs.

“No, but thanks, though.  I have a water bottle in the truck.” He sets down the door, and swipes his brow. “You mind if I take this off.” He pulls at his soaked shirt.

“Go right ahead.”

The damp shirt is hauled up over his muscled torso and I can now ogle his half naked body. His shoulders are wide.   I take in the wet slicks of sweat running down his back, his red neck tan lines. His muscles flex, tightening and loosening with each movement.

“I’m surprised you didn’t get weirded out by my comment.”

“Well—you know.” He pauses. “I’ve worked on these building for a while now.  The things I’ve been offered, or asked about—well, let’s just say it’s been interesting.”  He winks at me, and licks his lip.  “I ain’t got no shame, and I think I know how to take a compliment.  Man, woman, don’t make a difference to me.  I think I’ve got a great body, but you know—I ain’t that vain. I just know I worked for it. I like being strong, being big.  Besides, I’m pushing forty now.   I want to keep this as long as I can.  It requires more TLC than I can give it sometimes, but I soak in a tub and that’s a luxury to me.  But, someday I’ll have my own business and my own crew.  I can bark the orders and they can do the heavy shit.” He nods at my arm. “That’s some sweet ink you got there.  Is it really a sculpture?”

“Yeah, it’s a Rodin sculpture, called Cathedral.”

“You got any more?”

“I do.”

It’s my turn for show and tell. I haul up my shirt and turn around for him to see my back pieces.  He stands up to get a closer look. I feel the heat of his sweaty frame behind me.  He puts a hand on my shoulder. I do not flinch. A dirty, sweaty finger touches the one between my shoulder blades.

“Wow, such intricate detail.” His finger makes a circle. “I ain’t ever gone under the needle. Any of these hurt?”

“No, the one on the bottom had a couple spots that were really sharp, but overall-no.”  I turn to face him, his chest is so shiny, and his nipples have gotten even harder. I am sporting a semi in my shorts.  We both stand silent, then he turns back to his work.  The pants are hanging even slightly lower. I see more brief and even some ass crack when he squats to get the door in the track.  I sit and watch him, trying to quell the burning desire to get a raging hard on.

“You’re a—a—” He looks at me, and rises from the floor.

“I like men, yes, if you couldn’t already tell.  I know you’re married and all, but you’re pretty hot in my book.” He seems ok with such compliments.  His body seems to like it to.  The mound behind his zipper has grown considerably while he was squatting. I try to look away, but I can’t. He rubs his chest absently.

“You want to see the rest?”

“Are you teasing me?” My cock is stiff and this time I am not hiding it.


Flat and even.

Before he gets my response, he unbuttons his jeans and drops them to his ankles.  His tight white briefs can barely contain the thick meat pushing at the fabric. I am correct on how he hangs.  Tree trunk legs to match the tree limb arms.  His hands on his hips, he shuffles forward toward me, jeans at his ankles with his shoes still on. “I ain’t gotten off in almost a week.” He places his hand on his throbbing cock, squeezing the shaft. “You want to help me out?”

Rob’s arms hands hold me fast.  His bulge is right in my face.  I nod silently, and reach for the waistband of his briefs, pulling them down, his prick pops out.  My eyes widen at the sight of this magnificent piece of man flesh.  He is at least eight inches, his think shaft curves up to a wide, but tapered head.  His nuts hang low, so full of juice he hasn’t been able to release. Poor, poor man, in such need of a proper blow job, and I am so hungry I could lunge.  He is not overly veiny, but he is uncut, tight foreskin. I take his cock in my hand and stroke it from base to the head then take his reddening head in my mouth, sliding the foreskin back with my tongue and lips.  I plunge to the base, holding him in my throat.

“Jesus!” He looks down at me, his own eyes wide with amazement. I ease back, then take him again all the way down my throat, tightening and loosening as I work my way back up the shaft. I play with his foreskin, getting my tongue underneath, licking at the inside.   I roll my tongue around his head over and over again.  I feel his head pulse and twitch. He is beside himself.

“Fuck!  You know how to work a dick.  This feels fucking great!”  I bob on his cock a bit more, then coming up for air, I ask.

“You like having your balls worked?”

“Hell ya!”

I lift his heavy pole, and descend on his pungent balls.  Lapping the hairy flesh at first, then greedily stuffing both in my mouth I suck them down whilst cranking on his dick.  My other free hand begins roaming, over his thighs, up his chest. I tease and pinch a nipple. I release his nuts, he smacks them against my beard, but I still have his nipple in my fingers.   He nods with approval as I stand and take his nipple in my mouth, sucking on the taut brown flesh. He places a paw on the back on my head.

“I really needed this man, you’ve got fucking talent.”  I pull away and look him square in the eye.

“I’ve got a lot of talents, Rob.” I lower myself and his hand goes back to my head as I return to his leaking cock. I want that load shooting into the back of my throat. I encourage him, placing my hands on his bubble ass cheeks, compelling him to fuck my face.

“Yeah, you love that cock sucking, don’t you?  Yeah, take my big dick.  A hole is a hole and you like having your face fucked, huh?” He is really into it now. Holding my head, he pumps his meat in my mouth again and again. I rub and squeeze his thighs and ass as I moan as his meat is banging my throat.  “Fuck yeah! Fuck! I’m getting there, man.  Getting ready, you want it man? You want my load, you want it?”

I look up at him, my eyes send the message.

“Shit!   Fuck!  Here is comes! Yeah! Yeah!  Take it down!  Take IT!” His bursts are so hard and fast, as he pumps my throat.   I am trying to swallow it all, and some still gets away dripping on my beard.  His body stops quivering and he slides out of my mouth, before moving away he slaps my lips and chin with his spent dick still oozing.

“Feel better now?

He smacks my cheek with his cock.

“I’ll be back for more.”






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