Date: Sat, 21 Dec 2013 21:05:34 -0800 (PST)
From: Alvaro Lopez <lopezbos@yahoo.com>
Subject: Heatwave

[Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any similarities between actual
events and the events in this story or the characters in this story are
purely coincidental. This story involves descriptions of unsafe sexual acts
between men for the purpose of erotic fantasy and is not intended to
condone such acts. If you are underage or homoerotic material is otherwise
illegal in your area, please do not continue. Author retains copyright; do
not duplicate this story without express written consent by the
author. Comments and suggestions are welcomed at lopezbos@yahoo.com]
Heatwave

I have a knack for executing home improvement projects at
exactly the wrong time. It's not like I plan it that way, it just works out
that way. Such was the case when I decided to refinish my floors
downstairs.  I knew that sanding floors
was a messy, dusty job, so I waited for spring when I could open up all the
windows and not worry about being swarmed by bugs in the house. Smart thinking,
I thought. I reserved the equipment and took off a couple of days from work to
ensure that I'd have plenty of time. I got a boarder for the dog and I was
ready to go. The time came, and so did a freak heat wave.

I picked up the equipment on Thursday morning as planned.
The morning started off like a typical spring morning, slightly damp but
promising to burn off into a nice dry, breezy day. By ten the temperature was
up into the high sixties and I wasn't paying any attention to it. I was paying
attention to the blonde kid prepping my equipment. Tight jeans and good genes
combined to give him an aura of hotness. He was in his early to mid twenties, I
guessed, lean but very fit, at least the parts I could see. He wore the store's
uniform shirt baggy and cuffed at the arms. I tried to pay attention to his
instructions, but the veins in his forearms and biceps distracted me, as did
the occasional ripple across his back when he filled out the shirt. A couple of
older employees were ambling about servicing the other tools and I learned that
the kid's name was Nate.
Nate finished showing me how to change the sandpaper and how
to use the various pieces of equipment and offered to help me load them into my
car. Now whenever a younger guy offers to help a guy like me I take it as a
challenge. I want to ask them if they think I'm not man enough to do it myself.
If I'd taken a second or two, I would have realized that everybody in the shop asks the same question, whether it's to me, a
little old lady, or a stud buck.

"No, I think I'm good" I replied casually.

"You sure? This one's a beast. Heavy as a dead rhino" he
said.

"I think I got it" I replied, trying not to sound too cocky.
I drove the car around to the pickup area and Nate brought out the sanders. I
loaded up the little ones into the back then went for the big one. He wasn't
kidding about the weight. When I hefted it, it felt like it was glued to the
ground, and I let out an involuntary grunt.
"Yeah, it's a beast" he replied, bending to take the other
side. Together we hoisted it into the car and I jostled it down so I could
close the tailgate.


"That's going to be fun getting back here" I said to myself.
I was already rigging ramps and ropes in my head.

"If you're not too far" said Nate, "I can swing by Monday to
help you load it."

"I might take you up on that" I replied. I really didn't
have designs on the kid, he was what I considered out of my league. Young,
buff, good looking, and probably straight. Three strikes for me, since I am
none of the above.
Nate handed me a card, "Give me a call when you're done with
it and I'll come by."
I handed him a ten, "Thanks for the help today" I said.

"Can't take that, but thanks."

"Why not?"

"Store policy. Dad would kill me if I took it."

Dad? That explained a lot. I put the sawbuck in my pocket
and shook his hand. "Thanks" I said.
You can tell a lot about a guy from a handshake.  The texture of the skin on the palm tells you
if he works with his hands or not. The way he grips your hand tells you if he's
confident, cocky, or shy. When I interview guys at my office, it's over at the
handshake; the rest is just confirming what I know. Nate's handshake was as
near perfect as they come, at least for me. Rough palm, but not wooden, which
means he works with his hands,  but not
all the time. Firm, solid grip, confident and assured, like he's used to doing
it. And the release, well, that's often the key.  Just the right time to let me know he was
done and enough to let me know he was the one ending it. I know, sounds like a
tarot reading, but I've rarely been wrong. OK, so maybe his overall hotness was
influencing my judgment, and I wasn't at the office.

I jumped into the truck and headed home. On the ride I
started to become aware of the growing heat. I was actually sweating by the
time I got home. I unloaded the beast first, nearly busting a disk getting it
down out of the truck, and down is a lot easier than up. I pulled it behind me
and thumped it up the stairs and into the foyer. After unloading the rest of
the tools, I was ready for a break. My shirt was soaked with sweat and I was
gasping for air like an asthmatic.  I
went upstairs through the plastic I'd set up to protect the rest of the house
from the dust and got into a pair of shorts.

One beer later, I was ready for work.  I started in the living room, using the heavy
beast the way Nate had shown me. It kicked up a cloud of sawdust and I was glad
for the mask and goggles. I had every window in the house open, but I could
barely see across the room. When I stopped to take a break, I realized that I
was completely coated in sawdust. It clung to the sweat on my body and formed a
sort of paste all over my body.  In a
weird way, it was cooling as it soaked up the sweat.


Another couple of hours and my back was aching, my ears
ringing (despite the earplugs) and my downstairs was done with the hardest
part. The floors looked new, at least the middle part. I went out onto the deck
to dust myself off,  and a cloud of
sawdust later, I was feeling pretty good. I thought that the worst was over,
now all I needed to do was use the little tools to get into the corners and
edges of the rooms and I'd be ready for the next round of sanding tomorrow.


I went out to the front porch and retrieved the smaller
tools.  I looked for the sanding disks,
but they were no where to be found. I stood in my living room, caked in sawdust
paste, still sweating, and pondered whether to go back to the hardware store
tonight or wait until morning. Either way, I wasn't going to sand anything else
today. So I went to the kitchen, found a beer, and headed out to the deck. I
swiped at the paste all over me, smearing it down my chest. I should probably
hose off before going into the shower or my bedroom would be a mess. Two
minutes of icewater was worth two hours of cleanup.


I went around back to get the hose when I heard someone
calling from the front door: "Mr. Stanton?"
I walked back into the house, the voice echoing off the
empty rooms. "Mr. Stanton?" Was that Nate?
"Yeah, right here!" I yelled from the kitchen, making my way
towards the front of the house. The dust had settled, but not cleared, so it
was through a light haze of diffused light that I saw Nate's outline in the
doorway.  "Is that you Nate?"


"Yes sir" he replied, still on the porch. "I realized you
left the sanding disks and I thought I'd bring them over on my way home." He
looked into the house and let out a low whistle. "Wow, looks like you got a lot
done today!" he said. Then he looked at me, shirtless, caked in sawdust, with
an absurd naked space around my mouth and eyes. I must have looked like a
raccoon. He tried to hide a smile.


"Yeah, I know" I said, taking another pull on my beer. "I
was just about to hose off."


He held up the bag with the disks and I took it from him.
"You want to come in?"


"I don't want to interrupt" he said, a little smirk still on
his face.


"Nah" I told him, "I'm done for the day. I have sawdust in
places it should never be. Can I get you a beer?" He nodded.


"It's a nasty job" he said, following me to the kitchen.
"Most people do it once and never again. But it looks like you got pretty far
along today." He took a swig of the beer and surveyed the room.  I took the opportunity to wash my face in the
sink.  I used the spray hose to get the
gunk off my face.


"Very nice" I heard him say. I didn't realize that floors
were such a big deal to him. I turned around and wiped my face with the
dishtowel. He wasn't looking at the living room; had he been checking out my ass?
"I really appreciate you brining the disks over,  you may have just inspired me to go on a bit
more today. I was about to call it quits."


"Well you sure have earned a break" he said.

"I guess I have" I replied. "We should step out on the deck,
let this stuff settle some" I said. He followed me out to the back yard.


"Nice yard" he said, leaning on the railing. Damn, those
back muscles looked like they were trying to lift him off the ground. And that
ass.

"Yeah, that's my next project" I stood next to him. "Get it
in shape for summer."


He turned to face me.  "You've got a bit of..." he reached over and dusted off a gob of saw-gunk
from my chest.  I laughed as I looked
down at myself. Gobs were stuck to the hairs.


"Yeah" I said, becoming aware that my cock was rising. He
dusted off a couple more, grazing my nipples in the process. Now when it comes
to gaydar, I don't have any. I spend a lot of time being `one of the guys' so I
don't assume every guy around me a gay. In fact, I don't assume any guy is gay. When a guy dusts off a
gob of crap from your chest, he's just being a little OCD. But when a hot guy
is touching your bare chest, your cock doesn't care if he's gay or straight.
And when you've spent the day freeballing and leaning into a giant vibrator,
well, let's just say that there's no way you can tell your cock to settle
down.  So I turned away and pretended to
stretch my back. "Damn that thing takes it out of you" I said, taking a look
down to see how noticeable my boner was. My shorts tented out obscenely.


"Yep" I heard behind me, "right here" and then I felt hands
on my shoulders. Two thumbs pushed into my delts and hard fingers rounded my
shoulders. "It's like a day-long workout" he said casually. As a gay guy,
sometimes it's hard to say when male to male contact is just two guys being
guys or foreplay. I'd seen plenty of straight guys in the gym doing exactly the
same thing to each other. My cock, which had started to deflate decided it was
most definitely foreplay and sprang to attention. I flexed my back, to distract
Nate while I adjusted my shorts a little. He kept grinding his thumbs and palms
into my back and it really did help. I tried to pin my cock under the
waistband, but it was having none of that.


"Need a little help there Chief?" I heard in my ear. My
blood ran cold for a second. Then his hands went down my arms, squeezing and
massaging and the cold chill turned into heat. He turned me around and there
was no hiding my seven incher straining in my shorts.


"I'm kinda grungy" was all I could mutter.  He smiled and stepped back, then reached down
and pulled off his shirt. I started to say something, but my brain just kept
screaming, `shut up shut up shut up!' so I enjoyed the view, which he clearly
enjoyed providing. My eyes feasted on lean, ripped abs, perfect pecs tipped
with dime size nipples and dusted with blonde hair that travelled down that
happy trail to the jeans. While his head was in his shirt, I snuck a peak
downstairs and saw a sizable bulge to the left of his zipper. OK, I thought,
this is not just a guy being a guy. I apologized to my dick and promised to
always listen to his instincts.


"That's better" he said, draping his shirt over a deck
chair. "It's hotter than hell today."

Again, I wanted to say something witty, but opted to just
look him in the eye. I had no idea what to do next. I mean I know what to do,
but when confronted with a stud like this, damn, it was like meeting a doe in
the woods. You want to admire it, but you're afraid to spook it. I was
terrified of saying or doing the wrong thing and having him sprint away.  He reached up and started dusting off my
chest again. My nipples stiffened and I was pretty sure my cock twitched
visibly. He just focused on my chest, running his hand over it gently.  He looked up at me at last and smiled.  My cock said, `kiss him' so I did.

Stupid cock. He  jerked back and shook his head. "I don't kiss" he said, looking down.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck I thought. Here comes the part when he decides this isn't a
good idea and bolts.
"Sorry" I said, taking a step back myself.


"Don't be" he said, grabbing my wrists and pulling me
closer. "It's just a thing with me, I guess."


OK, all is not lost. I moved my hands up to his sides,
pulling us even closer. I'd met guys that didn't kiss before, it's not that
uncommon; usually they have a partner and feel weird about kissing someone
else. Personally, I don't get it, I mean sucking a cock is a lot more
`personal' than locking lips, but to each his own. "So you tell me what is OK"
I said, trying to sound like I was in charge but not really. Normally I'm
pretty aggressive in a situation like this, I know what I want and I usually
get it. But normally I'm not laying hands on a porn-star quality stud.


"Let's just enjoy each other" he said. I smiled as if I knew
what the hell that meant. Did he want me to rip his pants off and suck his meat
or did he want to bend me over the railing and fuck me until the neighbors
called the cops? Or vice versa? He ran his hands behind me, pulling us groin to
groin. I rand my hands over his back, memorizing every muscle, sinew and bulge,
then went around front to the pecs.  He
leaded down and took my left nipple in his mouth, tonguing it gently. I moaned
and arched back, digging my fingers into those hard shoulders.  He came up and arched his back a bit, and I
got the message. We were going to play do-what-I-do.


I ran my fingers down his pecs, leaning towards him until my
tongue darted out and touched his nipple. I drew closer, locking my lips around
it, twirling my tongue and sucking that hard little nub and getting a good gasp
from him. My hand massaged his other tit while my free hand wandered down his
back to the little shelf over his magnificent ass.  When I'd mapped that region of his body, I
came back up and looked at him.


His hands went to the small of my back and he pushed his
crotch into mine. I pushed back, grinding a little, letting my hands caress his
biceps as we `danced' for a while. I could feel my stiff cock leaking into my
shorts and I didn't give a damn whether it was getting on his jeans or not. I
was getting so turned on that my rational mind was starting to shut down.  His hips were moving rhythmically, dry
humping me. I ground my cock into him hard, sliding up and down as he pushed. This
was the most sex I'd had with my pants on since high school. My hands found
their way to his hard ass and I grabbed it and pulled. He grunted and did the
same. Our foreheads touched and we leaned into each other. The no-kissing thing
was driving me crazy, but at the same time it was making everything else so
much more intense. If either one of us let up, we'd fall over as all our (at
least my) strength was being focused on the two cocks now painfully squished
between us.

His thumbs hooked the top of my shorts and he pulled down. I
took it as permission and grabbed for his top button on his pants. I had to
wedge my hands between us, getting a good feel of those rock hard abs flexing
and straining.  He had my shorts down
past my hips, and he grabbed my bare ass with both hands and lifted me to my
toes. He would have lifted me completely off the ground except that I slipped
my hands under his jeans and underwear and grabbed a handful of mounds. Our
chests collided and he grunted.  He
half-lifted me to the railing and I let him. He got me up on it and pulled my
shorts completely off. He pushed back and licked his way down my grungy chest
then latched on to the head of my cock. My fingers dug into his shoulders as he
swallowed half of it, sucking like I've never been sucked.


I grabbed the back of his head with both hands and pushed my
cock in. He made a gurgling sound and swallowed then pushed back. I gave him
the room before pushing back down.  It
was part test of strength and part animal lust. I loved watching his shoulders
bunch up as he ran out of air. I let him work the upper half of my cock at his
own pace, encouraging him with thrusts to go further. He sucked well, but I
could tell this was not his forte.  We
settled into a rhythm, he licked and nursed then I pushed and gagged him. "Lick
my balls" I ordered. My voice was far gruffer than I expected. He went right to
work on my nuts. The heat and excitement had them low and he had no trouble
getting both of them in his mouth. It was time to find out what Nate was made of.
"Look at me" I ordered. There was a split-second of
hesitation, then he looked up at me, my cock draped over the side of his face
and my balls completely in his mouth. I smiled and patted his cheek. In return
I felt my balls sucked so hard it hurt. "Strip" I said, using the same
intonation. I'd passed that moment when I was worried about him sprinting away,
now I wanted to know what he was up for.


He loudly let my balls go free and stood up. He stared
straight at me as he hooked his hands under his jeans and slid them off. I
wanted to look down and see what I had to work with, but I wasn't going to
break the stare. He caught that, and as a challenge, he put his hands on his
hips and flexed his chest. My eyes never left his, no matter how much I wanted to
take him in. The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly, and his eyes
went to the deck.


I hopped off the railing and stood arm's length away. I put
my palm flat on his chest and moved it down, slowly. I could feel him tremble a
little. My eyes feasted on his body and finally I looked down between his legs
at the pole sticking straight out. It was a meaty seven and a half, uncut, and
leaking a string of pre-cum. Beneath that beauty were two decent sized balls
encased in blonde hair and hanging low. He stood feet apart, hands still on his
hips. His body glistened with sweat and he was breathing hard. My hand wrapped
around his cock and I squeezed, hard. He raised up on the sides of his feet,
but didn't move.  I leaned in close,
letting our chests touch, my hand still on his cock. "Turn around" I said and
released his cock.


I put both my hands on his shoulders and ran them down that
beautiful back. Slow and steady pressure, down to those two magnificent globes.
There, my thumbs wandered into the crack as my hands rotated slowly. I pulled
his ass cheeks apart and squatted, driving my tongue right to his unsuspecting
hole. He gasped and tried to step forward, but I had him in a firm grip. "Don't
run from me" I said. Then I heard the words I wanted to hear:

"Yes sir" and he bent slightly at the waist, giving me
better access. I parted those cheeks like I was opening up a cantaloupe and
dove in. His sphincter flexed and twitched with my every invasion and his
grunting became moaning and whimpering. My cock swung between my legs drooling
cocksnot like a faucet. I gave myself a couple of strokes to spread the slick
around and doused my index fingers with it. It was nice to have built-in lube.
I reached between his legs and milked out some from his cock and he arched his
back and moaned. His cock was rock hard and pulsing, and two more seconds on it
and I'd have a handful of cum.


I gave his hole another lick then entered it with my
fingertip. He tensed immediately and I slapped his ass, never removing my
finger. He adjusted and in no time I was finger-fucking him to my knuckle. I
alternated fingers, then pushed both in which got me a gasp but no resistance.
I suspected that he rarely took it up the ass, he was too tight and too
skittish. A regular bottom guy would be begging me to deep dick him by now.  Ironically, I like to bottom, but an ass like
this doesn't come around all that often. I alternated between slipping my
digits into him and licking and tonguing his entrance for a few more minutes.

I stood up behind him and slipped my cock between his
cheeks, gliding it up towards his back. I reached around and straightened him
up, pulling him to my chest. I ran my hands over his chest, giving his nips a
good tug as I pushed against him. The arch in his back told me he was enjoying
this position. I kissed the back of his neck and let my left hand drop to his
cock. I grabbed it and ran my thumb over the head, sliding under the foreskin.
He pushed back against me and my cock slid up over the top of his ass. I
continued to just hold his cock without stroking it and he moved against my
fist to feel it. As my right hand played with his chest, he put his own hand on
it and guided it from one pec to the other, squeezing it. His other hand rested
on his thigh as we continued to grind with more and more force as we'd done
before.


We were getting lost in the moment again when he reached
back to caress my leg.  The shift in
position caught me unaware and as he leaned more forward to increase his reach
I was dipping lower to get more leverage. The angles were perfect, and I felt
my wet cockhead meet his flexing hole. With so much energy going into the
grind, I slipped into him before I could catch myself. "Fuck!" he yelled, and I
felt his ass clamp down hard on my cock. Instinct won over reason and instead
of pulling back, I kept the momentum going and drove into him. My cock bore
into that tight chute relentlessly until I bottomed out. "Fuck" he said again,
but with less urgency. I felt the spasms around the length of my cock and knew
that his ass was on fire. I held steady, letting him get used to me.


We'd stopped moving now that he was well impaled. His leg
muscles twitched and I felt his ring relaxing. I kept a death-grip on his cock
which had lost some of it's stiffness with the unexpected entry. I moved my
right hand down to his hip and held him tight as I rocked back and forth. My
cock wasn't going in and out, his body was moving around it. I moved my hips a
little to seat my cock better. "Fuuuck" he said again, and I knew I'd hit the
spot I was looking for. Now his hips started rocking and he pushed back against
me. I pulled out a little then pushed in more gently, getting a long moan from
him. It was time to fuck this stud.


I slid back, letting his ass do the work of expelling my
cock until just the head remained in place.  My cock has a nice flare to it that lets me know when it's at the ring.
I stopped there and he pushed back, sliding his ass onto my cock. I let go of
his cock, and the change in pressure caught him off guard. I grabbed his
shoulders and drove in hard. I started pumping him and he bent forward, taking
it like a champ. "Oh fuck" he moaned every time I pushed it balls-deep and
pulled him onto it simultaneously. When he got the hang of it, I switched it up
with some rabbit fucking that bounced his balls and made him spread his legs
wider. I was getting close, so I had to be careful where to unload. Yeah, I
wanted to breed him badly, but I wasn't going to do it without permission.


He grunted and pushed against me. I pulled all the way out
and he gasped. I drove back in, getting another "Fuck!" from him. I could feel
my orgasm building, so I reached around and grabbed his cock again. It was
steel hard and ready to burst. Instead of gripping it, I stroked it a couple of
times.  "No, no, no" he said, pushing
back onto my cock harder.


I leaned close to his ear, "I want to feel you cum with me
all the way in you" I whispered.  I could
feel his whole body tensing up and I released his cock just as the orgasm hit
him. He bellowed like a bull and I actually heard the cum splattering on the
deck. I felt his ass spasm around my cock and I buried it in him as deep as I
could, arching my back to get more leverage. Fuck, I wanted to be in him deep.
I felt my balls tighten up and reluctantly pulled out. My cock popped out of
that hot, wonderful ass and started spurting all over the back of his legs. I
pulled him to me as I came, feeling the heat of his body as I emptied my balls.


I started to become aware of the sweat dripping off me, the
heat, and the distinct chafing of sawdust all over me. Nate was still bent
over, panting.  I peeled myself away from
him and he stood upright and turned around. I was about to suggest we go take a
shower when he grabbed the back of my neck, pulled me to him and gave me a
rip-snorting, tongue dueling, man-hungry kiss.  "First time for everything" he said.

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