HOT
TECHNICIAN
Copyright © 2006
By Lee Mariner
This is a gay fantasy that is intended for ADULT READERS only. If
you are not of legal age in your locality to be reading this story or
should you not approve of such material, please leave.
This work is copyrighted by the author, and it is not to be copied,
reproduced, posted or archived by any person or on any web site without
the specific written authorization of the author. All
Rights are reserved.
Comments and suggestions are appreciated, and may be forwarded by
using, mariner23502@hotmail.com
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Jacuzzi
Technician
It was my neighbor installing an above ground swimming pool, followed
by
the
seemingly constant cleaning and maintenance that convinced me not to
install a full sized pool. Mo Caruthers, my neighbor,
seemingly spent every weekend, along with a few days during the week,
when she was cleaning the pool, scrubbing the deck, skimming leaves,
adding chemicals and generally involved in a cleaning ritual, was more
than enough of a deterrent to installing something that appeared to be
more work than play.
For all of that, I still wanted something that I could stretch out and
relax in. One evening while stretched out all but naked in my
recliner, wearing only my dressing gown, and watching the re-runs of
one
of my favorite programs,
The Golden Girls, a commercial outlining the health
benefits of installing an easily affordable "hot tub" came on the
screen. Usually
when a commercial is displayed, I hit the mute button and head for the
fridge for a beer or the head to take a leak, but this time I stopped
in my tracks and listened, stunned by the vision of magnificent male
loveliness
that filled the screen.
The half-naked salesman sitting in a steaming, bubbling jacuzzi hot tub
with what appeared to be
a bottle of John Adams Winter Lager in one hand, and a
glass in the other, was loudly
rattling off his spiel about the benefits of the amazing water wonder
he was enjoying.
I'm a Bud man myself, but it wasn't the beer or the sales pitch that
attracted me, it was the gorgeous, black-haired, beautifully muscled,
bare-chested Adonis that
was making the pitch. He didn't need to sell beer or hot tubs to
get my attention, he could have been promoting sanitary napkins on
Mars, and I would have stopped whatever it was that I was doing, and
listened, my normal level of testosterone increasing as I fantasized
about being in the hot swirling water with him. "Good, God...," I
murmured, slipping my hand between the folds of my robe and gripping my
hardening cock.
"Hello, neighbors, this is Clark Masters, and you too can enjoy
the pleasure and benefits of your own twenty-two jet Jacuzzi for a
cost much lower than you might think," he said, seeming not to stop to
breath as words poured rapid-fire from his full, succulent lips.
"Today, Venetian Pools and Spas is, in addition to a
forty-percent
discount on our popular five-person model, we are making a fantastic
one time only offer to the first twelve people that call the toll free
number that is flashing on your screen. The usual in-home service fee
of eighty-five dollars will be waived, and one of our highly qualified
technicians will visit your home at absolutely no cost to you, if you
are
one of the first twelve callers. Our technician will, in the
privacy of your home, discuss the various Jacuzzis that we have
available in an almost unlimited variety of colors and style
combinations. He will discuss with you, the best location within your
home, or if it is possible to be installed indoors as well as outside
if you should
desire one of our in-deck models. The possibilities are almost
unlimited, and only your imagination will restrict what our staff at Venetian
Pools and Spas can do for you. Remember, we can make this
offer to only the first twelve people that call. So, this is
Clark Master saying, please, don't miss out on this fantastic one time
offer. Call the toll free number flashing at the bottom of your
television screen."
The Golden Girls flashed back on the screen as, cursing
under my breath, I stumbled
over a large leather ottoman in my haste to call the number that Clark
Masters had
insisted needed to be called immediately in order to be one of the
first twelve. Behind me as I punched the number into the phone, I
heard Rose ask, "Oh, my, Sophia, what are you cooking that smells so
good?"
"My famous Sicilian spaghetti sauce," Sophia replied in her cavalier
fashion just as a sensuous, mellow voice
spoke in my ear, "Congratulations, this is Venetian Pools and
Spas, and
you have qualified for our fantastic television offer. Please
stay on the line, and an associate will be with you shortly."
"Jesus Christ," I shouted to no one in particular. I despise
being placed on hold, and I hesitated
between slamming the phone down or waiting as instructed, on the almost
impossible chance that it would be Clark Masters who would answer
my call.
After several seconds, I was on the verge of depressing the "off
button" when the cry, "you
might as well stick it in my heart, Rose," emanating from the
television diverted my attention momentarily, and in that brief moment
of hesitation, I
heard a voice saying, "This is Carl Masters
speaking. I apologize for
the delay in answering your call. Please allow me to congratulate
you on qualifying for our forty percent discounted price offer and
waiver of the in-home service fee. I'll be happy to answer any
questions that you may have but, if not, when may I schedule a
technician to
visit your home?"
"I...,I don't know, how about tomorrow?" I stammered, my mind trying to
correlate the mention of the name 'Carl and Clark'.
The was a low chuckle on the line, and then the well modulated,
baritone voice said, "I don't' think we can make it quite that quickly
Mr....,Mr?"
Like an idiot, I was caught between squeezing my hard cock while
trying to envision what the person to whom I was listening looked like,
and answering the telephone. "Oh, I'm sorry," I stammered,
"my name is Holliman, Bert Holliman."
"It's a pleasure, Mr. Holliman," the mellow voice replied, chuckling
softly.
"I'm afraid we cannot make it tomorrow, but instead of tomorrow, would
this coming Thursday be convenient for you, say
between nine and eleven in the morning or would that be to early?"
Listening to the smooth sensual cadence of the mellow baritone
voice, my gaydar
kicked in. A feeling of excitement washed over me, and there was the
familiar tingling excitement in my groin with the feeling of pre-cum
ascending the hard length of my cock. I was trying to connect the
sensuality of the voice
with the gorgeous image that had been shown on the television
screen. The stumbling block that had me confused was the
telephone voice replying 'Carl' and not 'Clark',
"Any time this Thursday will be fine, I'm usually home alone most of
the day so the time is unimportant," I replied, somewhat
absentmindedly, not giving any thought to having said that I was
'usually home alone'. My thoughts were involved in trying to
figure out if there was any possible relationship between
the names - one who was shown on television and the other the
owner
of the mellow voice at the other end of the telephone line. The
electrifying
feelings in my loins, plus being horny from a recent lack of sex was
not helping the confusing situation. A little voice in the recesses
of my
brain cut through the testosterone induced confusion mixed with lust,
"Get over it Holliman, not every stud you see or hear is gay."
The soft mellow voice asking for my address and telephone number cut
through
the self-induced fog, and I quickly replied, giving him my
Garfield Drive address, and telephone number, commenting that there was
an answering service if for some reason I had to leave and, he should
need to call.
"I don't think we will have any problems, Mr. Holliman," the voice of
the invisible, sensuous, yet sexy sounding,
"I-want-him-to-be,
hope-he-will-be-
the-visiting-technician Adonis said after repeating the information
that I had given him with what I
thought was a suggestive emphasis on the last two numbers of the
address when he
said, "sixty-nine". My cock really jumped when, severing the
connection,
he said, "I have several satisfied clients, and I'm sure that I won't
have any trouble satisfying you, Mr.
Holliman."
I stood motionless for several seconds holding the dead telephone
received in my hand, pre-seminal fluid dripping from my cock.
Throwing my loose robe open with my free hand as I thumbed the 'off'
button and dropped the telephone, I grabbed my throbbing cock. While
trying to visualize the muscular body of Clark Masters, and
comparing it to what I thought the mellow voiced Carl Masters might
look like, I brought myself to a cataclysmic climax. Thick gobs
of hot, sticky sperm covered the hard, smoothly sculpted muscles
of my chest, flowing in a rivulet downward between ripped abdominal
muscles, into the dense hair of the silky brown bush surrounding the
thick base of my cock. Momentarily exhausted, my
straining muscles slowly relaxed as I gasped for air, my right hand
slowly
stroking and squeezing the sperm slick, cleanly circumcised length of
my softening cock.
I felt the sperm covering my chest slowly running down my ribs, and
grabbing a
handful of tissues from the box on the table beside my recliner, I
managed to catch most of it. With only minimal movement I sat
up, shrugging the robe off of my shoulders, holding it away from my
body in the crook of my elbows as I went into the bathroom, and
flushed the sperm soaked tissue down the toilet. Rinsing the
sticky residue from my hands, I dried them, and then discarded the robe
before opening the door, and stepping inside the glass enclosed
shower. Turning on the water and adjusting its temperature before
stepping under it, thoughts of what my phantom technician would
hopefully look like raced through my head. The warm mellow voice
that had made the appointment, combined with the mental picture of the
magnificently muscled Adonis sitting in a hot tub, sent erotic chills
through me, and my cock began swelling and hardening as I conjured up a
fantasy of him as my technician, his hot body touching mine, his huge
cock a steel hard javelin penetrating the quivering entrance to my
rectum. I felt the sperm rising with each thrust of his mammoth
tool, and my muscles tightening as he emptied his seed in the depth of
my hot bowels. "Oh, Jesus," I groaned loudly, as my cock
exploded,
spewing thick ropes of sperm onto the glass shower walls.
* * * * * * * * * *
My work as a
intern stock-broker for one of the larger brokerages was usually
interesting, and the days flew by; but Monday through Wednesday,
following my telephone conversation with an erotically arousing
faceless voice, combined with the sexually inspiring vision of a
living Adonis,
seemed to drag. I had plenty of vacation time coming to me,
and I asked for Thursday and Friday off, figuring that it didn't
make any sense to take Thursday off. and return to work on Friday, when
it could be made into a long weekend.
Waiting Wednesday for the clock to signal the end of the working day
was worse than the previous Monday or Tuesday, and I could feel the
testosterone racing through my veins. It was difficult to
suppress the feelings of anticipation and desire, and I spent a good
part of the day with my hard cock hidden in the leg well of my
desk. When knock-off time finally came, I closed my files, and
gave a couple of data-sheets with several active quotes I was working
on to Melvin Miller, one of my colleagues. Without waiting to
hear his usual voluble words of thanks, I bolted from the office with
one hand in my pocket suppressing my pre-seminal leaking cock.
The Golden Girls aired every day at six o-clock in the
evening, and as soon as I got home, I turned the television on hoping
that the Venetian Pools and Spas commercial would be
aired. I was disappointed again, as I had been all week, and I
was thinking, "maybe they won't show up".
After, eating a microwave-able Hungry Man roast beef
dinner, I watched some television before showering and turning in,
hoping I would be able to sleep. Unfortunately, most of the night
was spent tossing and turning from fear induced thoughts of no one
showing up, mixing with visions of gorgeous half-naked Clark
Masters until exhausted, I finally fell asleep somewhere
between three and four in the morning.
I slept fitfully and the exotic sexual dreams did nothing to assist in
getting any rest. I was on the verge of an intense nocturnal
emission when my dream was interrupted by a loud banging noise.
Even though I reluctantly awoke, the intense feelings in my loins
almost succeeded in exploding forth, forcing my lungs to expand
automatically and I gripped my throbbing cock, the feeling of
fire racing upward from my tight testicles. My cock wanted to
explode, and my body demanded the orgasm but the loud banging at the
front of the house increased, and I jumped out of bed, grabbing my robe
and throwing it over my nakedness, hardon and all, I raced to the front
door glancing at the den clock which read, eight-fifty o'clock, ten
minutes before the appointed time for the Jacuzzi technician to arrive.
Unlocking the door and throwing the dead bolt, I opened the door, and
on the other side of the glass storm door stood Clark or Carl Masters,
I didn't know which but, seeing my surprised look, my visitor answered
the question.
"Mr. Hollman, Carl Masters," he said, a subdued but obvious smile of
amusement playing at the corners of his lips as his eyes surveyed the
situation I was in. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he
said in the soft mellow voice that I had heard on the telephone. "We
did, I believe, have an appointment for this morning," He finished
saying, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
The voice was mesmerizing, but the young man standing on the other side
of the glass was stunningly handsome. His close cropped black
wavy hair was coifed in a conservative business style that enhanced his
classic Greek features. His eyes
were a bright sea-green similar to the waters surrounding islands of
the Aegean Sea. Partially parted succulent, carmine red lips
revealed gleaming, milk white teeth and the pink tip of his
tongue. I could feel the blood pounding in my temples, and
my cock hardening as my eyes deliberately scanned the broad width of
his shoulders, his tight light blue, zipper front, short sleeve shirt
clinging to the
muscles of his magnificently sculpted and defined torso. His muscles
flowed smoothly, tapering
to his small waist, merging with narrow hips and thick thigh muscles
with beautifully shaped calves. The short sleeves of his shirt revealed
biceps that were full but not
bulging, and there was
a light growth of silky fine hair on the upper side of his thick
forearms. A
string style plaited leather belt knotted off to the side revealed the
flatness of his stomach, and cream colored slacks hinted at the muscled
thickness of his thighs. Black, web style sandals along with a
black leather portfolio completed his stylish but tasteful ensemble.
My heart was pounding with the force of jungle drums, and my breathing
was become more labored as I
wrestled with the erotic thoughts that were swirling within the almost
surreal atmosphere that seemingly engulfed us, particularly me. I
couldn't take my eyes off of this magnificent specimen of maleness, and
my throat was dry to the point that I could not speak but, swallowing
several times I generated sufficient saliva, and managed to croak an
answer to his assertion that we had
an appointment, "Yes, we did, Mr. Masters, please accept my
apologies. I'm afraid I overslept this
morning," I said, attempting to regain my composure and avoid feeling
extremely foolish.
His gaze was fixed on the fullness of my groin, and the sea green of
his glistening eyes
seemed to have changed to a soft aqua as he chuckled, saying, "I
can understand that, Mr. Holliman, I often find it rather hard getting
up in the mornings."
The thought that he could be teasing me and playing on words entered my
mind,
as I opened the storm door and
stood sideways for him to enter as I said, "It can be a problem,"
I said, tempering my play on words, but looking into his eyes, and
responding boldly.
"It certainly can be, but," he said, laughing lightly as he stepped
across the
threshold. "Regardless of how hard, most problems are solvable."
"I've found that to be true in most cases," I said as he followed
me into the interior of the house . "I haven't had anything since I
woke
up, so would you care for some coffee?" I asked, drawing the belt of my
robe tighter around my waist as I
entered the kitchen.
"I've already had breakfast, Bert, but I'll join you in a cup while we
are
talking about your new Jacuzzi," he said, surveying the room and
looking out the windows as he entered. "You really have a
nice home."
"Thanks, I like it," I replied as I finished preparing the coffee
maker.
"And," he said, looking through the porch's picture windows, with a
view out over
the back garden. Pulling out a chair and sitting down at
the small maple kitchen table on the sun porch, he continued
speaking, "I believe you mentioned that you live alone, so when we
install your new hot tub it will become the perfect
bachelor pad.
"It is already, Mr. Masters," I said, as I placed the sugar and milk
containers on the table with a plate of Apple Danish, and returned to
the coffee pot. "I did live in an apartment for two or three years
after I graduated from college; but, I prefer the privacy that a
private home affords compared to the thin walls of an apartment."
"I can understand that, Bert, especially if you are entertaining, but
if you don't mind, would you call me
Carl instead of Mr. Masters?" He asked. "Using christian names is
all well and good in the military or some professional capacity, but
I'm sure we will get to know
each other well enough that we can drop the formalities."
"Sure," I answered as I carried the tray with a full coffee pot and two
mugs to the table. "But, I'm a little confused. On the television
in the ad, you used the name Clark, not Carl."
"Clark is my twin, but he is not much for meeting people. He
prefers doing the interior visual stuff while, I'm the opposite.
I like to meet and get to know
the people that use our products. I prefer thinking of our customers as
friends," he said, gazing up at me with soft seductive eyes, his mellow
baritone voice a
soft whisper.
I felt my heart beat quicken slightly, hoping that I wasn't mistaking
the salacious undertones the conversation seemed to have taken and for
a moment, I was at a loss for words; not sure if I was being
presumptuous in assuming there were sexual overtones in the manner he
was
talking. Standing next to him as I filled his cup, I
detected
a musky aroma that was stimulating and sexually arousing. While pouring
my coffee, I was about to speak when I felt a faint
movement of my robe. Glancing down, I saw one hand
squeezing the bulge in his groin and the fingers of his other hand
lightly brushing the hem of my robe open.
Our eyes locked, and I didn't move. My cock was thickening, its
stretching length pushing against the
fabric of my robe, and my muscles tightened at the touch of his fingers
on my thigh. Inhaling deeply, I sat the coffee pot down, exhaling and
trembling at the feeling of his hand moving up the inside of my thigh,
his fingers gently kneading my ball sac.
Looking down, I saw the head of my cock emerging from the opening of my
robe and I felt his hot breath wafting over its blood engorged head.
Running my
fingers through his thick black hair, I said, huskily, "You
certainly don't waste any time, do you, Carl?"
"Not when I see something that I want, and I wanted you when you opened
the door," he replied, sliding his chair back and standing. My
robe
fell to the floor as he stood, his hand moving up over my chest,
over my shoulders and down over my back.
We stood an arms length apart, his sensuous sea-green eyes deepening to
a sultry green. Gripping my triceps tightly, he inhaled deeply as
he visually explored the supple, lithe muscles of my body, his
gaze lingering on the the vertical length of my throbbing pre-cum
oozing cock. His lust filled eyes gleamed voraciously as he
pulled me toward him, his voice husky with emotion as he said, "You're
fucking gorgeous, Bert."
"That's a one-sided observation, Carl," I replied, swallowing and
licking my lips as I placed my hands on his broad chest.
His eyes twinkled impishly as, grinning, he lowered his hands, and
said,
"It's your move."
My hands shook as I reached for the zipper clasp of his shorts, and my
heart was racing . While I was fumbling with the zipper, he
discarded his shirt, dropping it on the seat of the chair he had been
sitting in; and, I hesitated with his zipper tab between my thumb and
forefinger, immobilized by the Grecian magnificence of his beautifully
muscled chest and washboard ripped abdominal muscles. Swallowing
quickly, I opened the fly of his shorts, each click of the zipper teeth
slowly revealing the thick, magnificent length of his uncut cock.
Kicking his shorts and shoes aside, Carl gathered me in his steel
muscled arms, and my arms went around his neck, my mouth opening as our
lips met. His body felt like satin covered granite, and I felt
his heart beating in synch with mine. Our breathing was hampered
by the ravenous kiss we were sharing, and I felt sticky precum oozing
from the urethral opening in his throbbing cock.
"Jesus, Carl," I gasped as our lips parted.
He didn't say anything, but the look in his eyes and the movement of
his hands over my back muscles, with his fingers squeezing and
kneading my glutes spoke volumes. When he moved his hips back and
slid his cock under my balls between my legs, I clamped my thighs
tight, and he hunched several times, driving his cock between my legs
and crushing my aching shaft and balls against his rock hard abdomen
and silky thick pelvis bush. Each thrust of his hips and the
sensation of his steel hard cock sliding over my quivering anus sent
erotic pleasure bolts of ecstatic fire deep into my loins. The
desire to be taken and consumed by the magnificent animal crushing my
sweating body was overwhelming. The prime-evil need to copulate,
to feel his thick shaft filling my ass, to revel in the surreal sexual
act of primitive self-satisfaction permeated every sinew of my body,
and I gasped in his ear, "Fuck me, Carl."
Throwing his head back, he looked at me, his blazing eyes reflecting
the same animal desire that was gripping me. I could feel the
desire and passion in his breathing, the thunderous beating of his
heart and the pressure of his throbbing cock against the soft,
sensitive perineum flesh separating balls and anus.. Dropping
his hands he grabbed my glutes, holding my ass tight as he savagely
drove his dripping schlong between my legs, growling, "bedroom or on
the floor."
Twisting out of his grasp, I grabbed his wrist, leading him to the
bedroom. All thoughts of a jacuzzi obliterated - at least for the
moment.
* * * * * * * * * *