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Working Construction

Category: Gay Male
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It was just a summer job in between college semesters many years ago, but it was a learning experience and one that helped the younger man realize that some of the things he enjoyed that he thought strange were things that others enjoyed as well.


“You okay, Tim?” my boss asked me as we sat under the tree after eating lunch. “Heat getting to you?”

“No sir, I’m okay,” I replied, but that wasn’t really true because I was light-headed.

Part of that feeling might have been due to the temperature, which was probably close to 90, but I worked in the heat of the day on a regular basis and had become used to it.

The primary reason for the way I was feeling was the man who was rising up from the grass and brushing off his shorts. The man was my employer, Mr. House, and in the few weeks I had been working for him and his construction company, I had developed a bit of a crush on the middle-aged man.

It was more than a bit of a crush, to be honest. I had become infatuated with the man, and since he was fond of working right along with his help, that gave me a lot of opportunity to be with him. I tried not to let my feelings show, because I sensed that kind of thing wouldn’t go over well with a bunch of laborers who were mostly a bunch of stereotypical macho guys.

Mr. House, Chuck to almost everybody except me, was macho as well, but not in a stupid way. He was intelligent and had a sense of humor, but it wasn’t his mind that drew me to him, it was his body. It’s safe to say that there weren’t many men pushing 50 who were built like Mr. House.

After I graduated high school, I had decided that I was tired of being a pudgy kid and had made a effort to improve the way I looked. It had worked very well, and in addition to losing the extra pounds I had ended up with a fairly muscular body.

Nothing like Mr. House though, because his 6’2″ frame looked like it was chiseled from stone. He might had weighed about 200 pounds, but if there was an ounce of fat on him I couldn’t see it, and believe me when I say that I looked.

It was tough enough trying not to look at this man at work when he was wearing a tank top and work pants, but the way he was dressed today – shirtless and wearing only shorts and sneakers – was sweet torture for me.

Mr. House had asked me if I was interested to making a little extra money that weekend, helping him work around this summer camp he had upstate, and I jumped at the chance. The money would come in handy for books come fall, but the best part would be to spend time with him.

“Don’t mention this to any of the other fellas,” he had said and I agreed, partly because I didn’t like many of them and besides they thought I was a kiss-ass as it was.

Mr. House picked me up that Saturday morning, and I was shocked when he arrived on a motorcycle. I don’t know what was scarier, taking my first ride on the back of a bike or having to be that close to my boss. It gave me a chance to make a lot of physical contact with him, and it wasn’t the vibration of the cycle that had my dick hard for the 40 mile ride.

When we got there anbd started working, Mr. House took off his t-shirt and encouraged me to do the same. My body was only a little tan, except for my arms, which had gotten a lot more color, but Mr. House’s upper torso was bronze all over, the deep brown hue even more noticeable when his shorts would dip as he worked and revealed the creamy white skin below.

“Don’t wear a shirt up here much,” he had explained when I mentioned his tan, but seeing him without his shirt was way too much of a good thing, and I wondered whether my erection was ever going to leave.

Mr. House not only had massive arms, which I was already aware of, but his chest was broad and muscular and his waist was probably smaller than mine. The pectorals made him look like the Incredible Hulk, and the nice coating of dark brown hair on his chest only added to his appeal.

“We’ll get you tan by the end of the summer,” Mr. House assured me, and when he put his hand on my shoulder my heart started to race.

We did a lot of fairly easy stuff that morning, mostly clearing some land and picking up around the outside of the cabin, and as we worked it occurred to me that Mr. House might have just had me come up here with him for company, since we hadn’t done anything that really needed two pairs of hands.

I did get to talk with him a lot, and I learned that although Mr. House was wearing a wedding ring he was no longer married, laughing and explaining that “Irreconcilable differences” were the cause.

“Couldn’t get the thing off anyway,” he said of the ring that was embedded in his hairy ring finger. “My advice to you Tim is don’t get married. Play the field for as long as you can, and I’ll bet you get your pick of the litter, looking like you do.”

“Nah,” I said, blushing, but I wasn’t all that great looking even with the muscles I had grown.

I still had the baby face that made me look younger than my 19 years, and while I suppose that I could have done okay with girls, I had learned that I liked guys a whole lot more, especially older men like Mr. House.

I got to my feet along with my boss, and watched as Mr. House looked at a low hanging limb above his head, commenting that when he had come up here when he folks had bought the place in his youth, he used to hang from that limb and try to do chin ups.

“Wonder if I still can?” he wondered aloud, reaching up and taking hold of the limb, and after he effortlessly lifted himself up for a couple of chin-ups he dropped back down, laughing and commenting, “Not bad for an old man.”

I nodded, wishing I had a camera as he jumped up and did it again. The way his bronze biceps bulged as he raised himself up with his shoulders and chest muscles rippling, all combined to make my dick drool but there was something that got me even hotter.

His armpits. I had noticed myself being attracted to that particular part of the male anatomy for as long as I could remember. although I was quite reluctant to admit it in words. Once I was with a guy though, in the heat of the moment there was no need to verbalize.

As Mr. House hung there and did his chin-ups, I tried not to focus on those bushy hollows and that should have been no problem given the rest of his body, but this – getting to stare at his armpits instead of taking little glances from time to time – might not have been as subtle as I thought.

I was standing next to him, and as I kept leering at those thick tufts of hair surrounded by muscle I was dying to take a couple of steps forward and bury my face under his arm. The guy was so cool that he hardly broke a sweat as he did those chin-ups, although perspiration wouldn’t have fazed me a bit. I, on the other hand, was dripping wet just watching my boss.

“You try it, Tim,” Mr. House said after he finished, and although I tried to get out of it he insisted, telling me that he didn’t think I could do more than he had. Finally, the thought of getting to show myself off a bit proved too much for me.

I had to jump up to grab the limb, and as I started to raise myself up it occurred to me that a year ago when I was pudgy and weak I couldn’t have even done one chin-up. Now my only concern was hoping that my boner wasn’t showing in my shorts.

“Four – five,” Mr. House said, his eyes watching me as he counted, and when I was about to pass the number he had done he announced., “Oh oh, can’t have you winning.”

Mr. House reached over and tickled me under the arms just as I was about to go ahead of him, and the surprise of feeling his fingers sliding through my drenched and practically hairless armpits caused me to lose my grip and drop down.

“I win,” Mr. House declared as we laughed, and I was surprised when I didn’t cum when he did that to me. “Better get back to work.”

We headed down toward the camp, but before we got there Mr. House squinted up at the sun nearly straight above us, and after saying that it was probably going to hit 100 today, went over to a box on the porch and took out a tube of suntan lotion.

“Don’t want you getting burned,” he declared. “Let’s get some of this on us.”

After Mr. House went behind me while squirting some of the cool liquid onto his hands before working it into my hot back and shoulders, I was ready to declare this the greatest day of my life, and after he oiled my back I was wondering whether he would let me do the same to him.

“Might as well finish the job,” Mr House said, and to my shock he came around and started spreading the lotion on my chest.

I had my eyes fixed on the cabin behind Mr. House, trying not to look at his beefy hands running over my chest and stomach because I was on the verge of either fainting or having an orgasm.

“You said you just started with the weights recently, Tim?” he asked while oiling my smooth chest, and I nodded while wondering whether he could feel my heart like this.

“I still tinker around with them myself,” he told me, and then told me to lift my arms.

“You compete in bodybuilding competitions I assume?” Mr. House said as he massaged my armpits with the lotion. “I used to shave my armpits back when I did too.”

I nodded, but I didn’t shave to compete in any bodybuilding contests. The few hairs that had been under my arms had been plucked out by a kinky professor who had playfully decided that I would look better without them. Since then, all that had grown in my deep pockets was a tiny bit of peach fuzz that was barely visible.

Mr. House seemed to enjoy what he was doing, while I tried to remain perfectly still for fear just the movement of my underwear against my dick would have me cumming.

“You like this?” Mr. House asked as his fingers continued to lightly massage my moist pits.

“Uh – yeah – this is a neat place,” I mumbled as my heart raced.

“No, I meant what I’m doing to you,” he explained. “Underarms are a very neglected erogenous zone, don’t you think? I love how smooth yours are. Just a tiny bit of hair in the center. You can hardly see it, much less feel it.”

“Uh – yes,” I mumbled while I shivered while feeling his eyes on me while looking for my reaction.

“You’re right about the place too. It’s very secluded. Up here, you can stare at someone and not have to worry about others noticing. Not like at work.”

“Huh?” I said, the ecstasy of what Mr. House was doing causing me to lose track of what he was saying.

“At work. The way you stare at me. I’m very flattered but you might want to be a bit more careful,” he cautioned as he handed me the lotion. “I think the other fellows are starting to notice.”

I nodded, swallowing hard as I fumbled with the cap of the lotion, and then I was behind Mr. House, my trembling hands oiling up his muscular back as I did something I hadn’t even dreamed about doing in real life.

The lotion made his already well defined muscles stand out even more and I took my time, trying to figure out what was going on. Was Mr. House teasing me or was he coming on to me? I didn’t know, but I was about to find out.

“That’s nice,” Mr. House said as I reached the top of his shorts, and as he slowly turned around he added, “But you’re only half done.”

My vision was clouded, my eyes blurry from the sweat the poured down into them as well as my reaction to what was going on. The creamy lotion stood out starkly against Mr. House’s hairy chest, and as I worked the oil into Mr. House’s rock hard body he sighed.

“You can’t be cold,” Mr. House commented, smiling as he looked at my visibly shaking hands running through his furry pecs.

“Nervous – excited,” I stammered.

“Me too, believe it or not,” Mr. House admitted while reaching over and giving my nipples a tweak. “Those irreconcilable differences I spoke of regarding my ex-wife?”

“Yes?” I croaked.

“Actually they weren’t really differences,” he explained as he raised his arms and linked his fingers behind his head. “You see, it turned out that she had a thing for younger men… and so did I.”

“Go ahead,” he whispered as he saw me staring at his bushy armpits.

I dropped the tube of suntan lotion, having no intention of using it like Mr. House had to me. Instead I leaned forward and buried my face into the muscled hollow, and although he was taken aback back by the enthusiasm of what I did, the way he groaned as he put other hand on the back of my head told me all I needed to know.

“Ooh – that’s so good Tim,” he sighed as I licked at the thick jungle, the musky manly aroma and taste sending shivers down my spine as I played with his plump nipples, and after moving to Mr. House’s other armpit and chewing like a feral animal, Mr. House pulled me away.

“You are a nasty boy,” he said with a smile. “How nasty can you get?”

“As nasty as you want me to be,” I answered as he brought me into his cabin.


The cabin was very sparsely furnished, with none of the comforts of home. A table with a couple of chairs, a stove that ran on propane and a fireplace, but most importantly, a bed, and it was there that we headed.

We had very few clothes to shed, and after kicking our sneakers off Mr. House was pulling down my shorts as we neared the bed. As he grabbed the elastic of my tight-whitey, my erection went away for the first time all day.

I had gone limp in part because my underwear were dripping with pre-cum that had been pouring out of me, but the main reason would be that the next moment was something I would always dread, as my shortcomings would be revealed.

After Mr. House yanked down the sticky shorts, I watched for his reaction and seeing my twig and berries, but while he did a bit of a double take as most men did, he didn’t laugh and if he was disappointed, he didn’t show it.

The second my back hit the bedding Mr. House was all over me, taking both of my balls in his mouth at once and sucking hard on the sac. Looking down between my legs and seeing the top of my boss’s head and my erect dick pointing back at me, I knew I had no chance.

I didn’t even get a chance to try and stop Mr. House, or even slow his down as his gobbling my nuts made me cum. Helplessly I watched my little cannon spurt jets of cum into the air before plopping down onto my stomach and chest, while my body convulsed with the force of my orgasm.

“Sorry,” Mr. House said after he looked up and saw what had happened.

“No – it’s me. I have no self control, especially with a man like you,” I confessed, and he was smiling as he began moving up over me, his nearly erect manhood swaying as he inched his way up my body to offer his cock to me.

I had seen bigger cocks before, not that 7 or so inches was anything to sneeze at, but none quite like the tool that was on his way to my face because the head on Mr. House’s manhood was enormous. His cock looked like an apple on a stick in a way, with the shaft fairly normal but the bulbous glans making the rest of his dick pale in comparison.

“You can just lick it if you want son,” Mr. House said, apparently seeing the expression on my face when I grabbed it and brought it to my lips, but I was nothing if not game for a challenge as I opened wide.

“Ah!” came the voice from above as I moved my lips down to the part of the knob right before the ridge and back up to the tip again, and he seemed quite happy with me jerking the shaft with my fist while sucking on most of the crown but I was just getting used to it.

“Whoa!” Mr. House howled when I got the whole glans in my mouth without teeth mauling it, and the popping sound it made when my mouth slipped back off was loud. “Damn!”

Pop – pop – pop went the rhythm as the fat knob went in and out, and while I couldn’t get much past the ridge I suspect it was a lot better than he was used to because pretty soon he was taking his cock out of my mouth and telling me to stick my tongue out.

I did as Mr. House asked and felt him rubbing the cleft at the underside of the knob on my tongue as his cock spat into my mouth. I swallowed as fast as I could and soon he was just milking his cock and squeezing all the sap he could out of himself until he was dry.

“Incredible Tim!” Mr. House gushed after he collapsed down next to me. “I don’t know what to say other than that. I’m so used to cumming like that, rubbing it out, that I don’t think I can cum any other way. You okay?”

“Fine,” I said, although my jaws ached a lot, but nothing like they would the next day.

Tomorrow was the farthest thing from my mind because the man that was looking up at the ceiling beside me not only looked and felt great, he seemed to understand me or at least the things I liked so when I climbed up to my knees and straddled him I thought I could do anything I wanted.

“Feel our cocks rubbing together?” he asked as I held myself up by putting my hands on his chest.

I nodded because that was my intention when I had put my stuff on top of his spent organ which was laying on his stomach. My balls were rubbing against the roots on the underside of his cock as I started to lean on top of him, letting my hands slip upwards and taking his wrists with them until he was pinned under me.

What a feeling. Grinding my smooth chest over his hairy one, both of us as wet as if we were in the shower while our cocks got acquainted, but his armpits were what I wanted and when I buried my face in his right pit and ran my tongue up and down like his perspiration was nectar.

“Mmm… you like my sweaty armpits don’t you?” he groaned while our eyes met, and while my face might have been red it wasn’t because I was embarrassed. “That’s my boy – suck it. Chew it.”

I did while making noises that seemed to match what I was doing, and when I raised my head up the next time Mr. House was leaning his head over with his mouth open trying to get my tongue which I offered freely once I figured out his plan.

It felt like my boss was trying to swallow my tongue and the only reason he let go of it was so I could dive under her other arm. It felt like electricity was being sent up and down my spine as he indulged me in this primitive lust. Worship? Probably a good word for it.

My cock was dripping and seemed to be on the urge of shooting but I was never able to keep enough contact with my dick against his and I think Mr. House sensed this because he had me straighten up while still straddling him.

“Here – rub our cock heads together,” he said while holding his now semi-erect cock straight up in his right hand while holding the back of his neck with his left in trying to crane his head up enough to watch.

“Oh man!” I moaned as I rubbed the end of my dick into the groove of his, the feeling of our sensitive tips meeting only topped by the sight of the two absurdly differences. It was like rubbing a grape against an apple and instead of being humiliated the sight aroused me.

“Make it last,” Mr. House said. “Feels unreal.”

I tried but my dick was drooling all over his, and my sweat was pouring on Mr. House as well, making it all too slippery and pleasurable for me to stop spurting all over Mr. House.

I tried to make up for my lack of control by cleaning my cum off of Mr. House as best I could and by the time I was done he was nearly fully erect. When I started to suck on his tool again though, he stopped me.

“I want to save my last shot for a while,” Mr. House said as he eased me down onto my back and rolled onto his hip and faced me. “I want to ask you for something but – look, I understand if it’s not something you’re into or would be nervous about but…

“I know what you’re going to ask,” I said in interrupting. “And the answer is yes.”

“Are you sure Tim?” Mr. House asked, his voice very sincere, but as he spoke he was already scrambling out of bed and over to the desk in the corner, his stiff pole bouncing around wildly as he moved while trying to find the lube before I could change my mind.

I had no intention of changing my mind because there were a few things that I had learned during the last year or so, when I changed from a shy virgin to a easy boy toy for just about any older man that showed any interest.

One thing was that I adored older men who were dominant and confident in nature, and Mr. House was certainly that. The fact that he was well hung and hairy were also very compelling to me as well, along with us seeming to enjoy the same things.

The major thing that I enjoyed, and back then it was a much much safer world for this kind of activity, was anal sex. Right from the start, I knew that this was what I loved the most. To be taken anally by a dominant man was heaven to me, and not only did I love it, it seemed that I was built for it.

Along with having at taut bubble butt I seemed to have been blessed with a capacity to handle just about any size man, and as far as being squeamish about it, the rougher the better was what I thought. Mr. House was being nice about worrying about my well being, since I suspect a lot of guys didn’t want to deal with that fat-headed cock, but I wanted it and when he came back to the bed I took the lube from him.

“Lay down,” I asked him, and as he reclined onto his back I squirted a generous wad of gel into my palm and rubbed my hands together. “I’m kinda scared but I know you’ll try not to hurt me.”

“I don’t get the chance to meet guys willing,” Mr. House replied, sighing as I lifted his cock from his stomach and held it upright before letting my greased hands prime it up while I knelt at his hip.

“I’m not surprised,” I agreed, rubbing my palm over the bulbous knob of his manhood while gushing over the size of his organ. “The head of it is so fat. I just hope I can take it.”

“Your ass,” Mr. House sighed as he reached down and toyed with the crack of my ass. “It looked so good in jeans at work, and looks even better bare. Have you had anal sex before?”

“Couple times,” I said with a straight face while I relished the praise of my body, an experience my overly self-conscious self had never had until recently. “But never with a guy that had a huge cock like yours.”

This was something I thought I was pretty good at, playing the part of the innocent and building up the ego of my partners. While it might have been a bit disingenuous, I only did it because it made the other man feel better about himself, and the more confidence he had, the better he was in bed.

“Should I get on all fours?” I asked Mr. House after I had slicked up his swollen tool as much as I dared.

“Yes,” he said, scrambling up from his back as I positioned myself with my bubble butt raised high. “So sweet.”

I felt something wet and warm int he crack of my ass, and as Mr. House’s tongue licked my anus I spread my cheeks as far as I could so he could get at my puckered ring. After he had probed me with his tongue he used the gel and his finger for a few seconds before I felt him slide up behind me.

“If you want me to stop just tell me,” Mr. House said softly as he pushed the tip of his dick against my anus.

“Okay,” I said, although I was tempted to scream at him to slam it in my ass hard and fast.

I was walking a fine line playing like the frightened kid because he was such a nice guy that he might baby me, so I eased up on the acting as he tried to squeeze that plum-sized glans into my ass.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yes – please – put it in,” I gasped, and just to make sure I pushed backwards as he eased forward, and after the ridge of the head popped in abruptly he lurched forward, accidentally impaling me with a whole lot of cock.

“OW!” I cried out, and then quickly told me I was fine, doing most of the thrusting myself at first until Mr. House got the idea.

“OMIGOD! Your cock is so big!” I howled as I felt Mr. House grab my hips and take charge. “Feels so good.”

“Tight!” I heard Mr. House wheeze in between grunts while our bodies slammed together, and after he reached around me and groped around for my dick he exclaimed, “My word. You do like it!”

Mr. House had found my dick, which was very erect and proof that I wasn’t it pain, although I lost that erection after a few stroked of his thumb and index finger had me coming onto the sheets.

“I want you – another way,” Mr. House told me after I went limp, and although I didn’t like it when he pulled his stiff cock out of me and rolled me over I liked looking at the big bear as he put a pillow under the small of my back.

“OHH!” I groaned as he penetrated me from this different angle. “You feel even bigger like this!”

“You like my big cock, don’t you Tim?” Mr. House asked as he held my legs apart by grabbing the insides of my knees, and I nodded while reveling in the warm shower I was getting as the sweat poured off of his body and onto mine. “You like me stretching out that little ass of yours.”

I did indeed, and as Mr. House kept thrusting deep into me he was showing a lot of endurance for an older guy, although not surprising considering the shape he was in.

“Had enough Tim?” he asked.

“No. I don’t ever want this to end,” I assured him as I raked my hands through the soggy mat of hair on his chest, and that was no exaggeration either because his cock felt incredible as he probed me to the hilt.

“Put your arms up for me,” he instructed. “Link your hands behind your hand and make those beautiful biceps bulge for me.”

“Like this?” I asked after I had assumed the position, happy to oblige even though Mr. House’s biceps put mine to shame.

“Perfect,” he responded while he leaned over me, and after he reached down and stroked my armpits with his thumbs he added, “You look so good.”

It had to end, and it did with Mr. House sprawled over me, licking my sweaty pits while snorting like an animal as he filled my bowels with his cum.

“Doesn’t get any better than that,” Mr. House wheezed after he rolled off of me and onto his back, and as we stared at the cabin’s ceiling he said that he hoped he didn’t hurt me.

“No. It was perfect,” I said, and when Mr. House moved onto his hip to face me, propping himself up his elbow he chuckled.

“Didn’t you cum before? Mr. House asked as he nodded down to were my dick was pointing straight up.

“I did but the things you were doing to me really turned me on,” I explained. “That, and I guess I can reload fast, maybe to make up for my shortcomings.”

“You don’t have any of those,” he assured me. “Mind if I play?”

“Of course not,” I said, so for the next ten minutes or so I was treated to the exquisite stroking of the underside of my dick with Mr. House’s finger, the speed of his stroking changing when he sensed I was going to cum.

“You’re drooling,” Mr. House informed me, and when I looked down and saw the big white bead on the tip of my angry looking prong.

“Feels so good,” I sighed as he leaned back against my hands, and when Mr. House leaned over and nibbled on the soggy fuzz under my arms like he had several times during this divine stroking I apologized for my sweaty condition.

“Like sweet tea to me, Tim,” he told me. “Guess you can tell what my fetishes are. It’s nice to find someone who doesn’t find me as weird as some others do.”

I could, but I assured him that I didn’t find him weird at all because I shared a lot of his interests but had kept my secrets inside for the most part.

“Think it’s time to put you out of your misery,” he informed me, and this time when the speed of his finger running up and down the underside of my dick didn’t slow down as my breathing quickened, I felt myself about to cum.

After my orgasm began, sending a tingle from the soles of my feet on up, a tiny spurt of cum eased out of my dick. Mr. House started to comment, suggesting that I must have been finally running out of gas, but then my dick jerked around before sending huge ropes of cum up towards my face.

We both started laughing like loons as my modest weapon kept spurting cum all over my chest and stomach, and when it finally stopped Mr. House grabbed me in a bear-hug and as he wrapped his arms around me I thought I was in heaven.

“You know, I suspect I’ll need more help up here on the weekends, at least until you head back to college,” Mr. House informed me after we had shared a shower and were getting dressed.

“It’s a rough job, but somebody’s got to do it,” I replied, glad that I had the skills that my employer needed.


Thank you for reading.

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