Date: Fri, 20 Jul 2018 19:47:13 -0700
From: William RS <wrsjrm@gmail.com>
Subject: DANI SEDUCES THE GUYS ? A SEXUAL AWAKENING - 1

DANI SEDUCES THE GUYS – A SEXUAL AWAKENING - 1

Please contribute to Nifty so great stories will always be here to
entertain.

This is the accounting of Dani, who wrote me and was inspired to tell his
own tale of his seductions; those by him and those to him.  Dani is in
his 20s, college educated and has an interesting and honest accounting of
his sexual life of the last half decade.

Dani is also concerned that the average Nifty reader will be concerned
there is not enough sex in the story, below.  This may be true, but the
sexual tension between Dani, Charlie, Frank and ultimately Joe is boner
inducing to the point of when the sex happens, it is sensual and erotic.
But I'll let the Nifty reader decide.

Dani has a true gift of remembering details that many of us would not
remember and this adds to this story.

Please write me if you wish to contact Dani and I will forward your
Emails to him.

wrsjrm@gmail.com

Without further discussion, here is Dani's story of seductions,

My name is Daniel but my friends call me Dani. I lived right outside a
decent sized city in a blue collar enclave with a mix of single family
and multi-family homes. The types and styles of the houses, and the
people who lived in them, were a mixed bag. There is still a fairly good
sense of pride in these homes that have been owned for decades and many
have been passed down to kids who still chose to remain in the
neighborhoods despite the up and down of employment opportunities in the
struggling city.

At 16 I got a chance to go away to a boarding school on scholarship that
came from my good academics and my swimming. That being said, when I got
to that school I found my 5'9" 130lb frame was better suited to wrestling
than swimming and the academics took a lot out of me just to keep up. The
other downside to changing high schools early meant I lost track of my
old friends except for a few. Charley was one of those. He was a friend
who was on my swimming team; was slightly shorter than me, nice body,
messy blond hair and a big personality. Maybe it was my attraction to him
that gave me some pause for thinking I was bisexual. I knew I found girls
very enticing and definitely had my masturbation fantasies with some of
them (usually the ones who were out of my league), but occasionally I
would imagine getting pinned in wrestling and getting jerked off by my
conqueror. One time I remember saying to a nerdy friend of mine that if
you looked like *that guy* (whichever attractive teen it was) you could
get any girl you wanted. He shrugged and said, "Girls are attracted to
all kinds of guys. Maybe you don't want to look like him or maybe you are
just attracted to him." I was defensive and embarrassed,
but, thankfully, he seemed to ignore it all.

Fortunately, Charley was my savior for summer fun and he was well
connected in the neighborhood. His father was a contractor who died
several years earlier from complications of heart surgery, when Charley
was like 12-years-old. At 16, Charley had a pretty decent exterior
painting summer job and he added me to the mix so I made fairly decent
money and had fun to.

It was the last painting job of the summer when I met 40 something year
old Frank. Charley was going away with his mom, grandmother and older
brother for the last 3 weeks of summer so he hadn't lined up any more
jobs. While I liked, maybe needed, the money I was content to get a
little lazy and lonely the end of summer so school would be welcomed. The
last job was at Frank's house. Frank was a single guy who had inherited
the home from his mom and it was fairly well known, or at least assumed,
that he was gay. I had heard stories of blow jobs to guys I knew and
parties at his house with all men, but I didn't know how much was true.
That is until Charley and I were working on his house. We usually wore
old cargo shorts that still barely fit and hung down around our asses.
Shirts came off as soon as the cool morning air warmed up and the fight
was to get painting in the sun for a nice deep tan.

Frank, the owner, seemed to lurk and watch more once the shirts came off
and enjoyed putting his hand on a shoulder to point out a missed spot or
something that need scraping. Neither of us objected and when he would
leave we'd kind of laugh about it. It was then that Charley told me a
year before that he did some work for him and had a couple of beers with
the guy and got a "fucking awesome blow job."

"You got to be kidding me," I replied.

"Fuck no... best BJ ever. Did you think all that shit about him was
bullshit? Guy knows how to suck a dick and he loves young straight guys.
Gay guys know what guys like. Makes sense."

"No shit," I said, "too bad HE isn't a SHE. Can't you find any single
women to paint for?"

"Daniel - once I get hard I need it sucked. Who the fuck cares who's
doing it? So long as he doesn't expect anything back, he can suck me
anytime."

"How many times did he do it?" I asked.

"Just twice and he invited me to his house for a party, but no way I was
doing that."

After that I observed Frank a bit closer. He was a decent looking guy,
shorter than both of us. He also took his shirt off in the heat and his
body wasn't fat or skinny, not muscle or flab, just kind of regular I
guess, although I felt weird noticing he had large nipples. His hair was
very blond and curly, but Charley shared that is was a definite dye job.
He probably was medium brown or something close, but the striking blond
was definitely chemical. Hearing Charley tell me what he did with Frank I
found myself playing scenarios in my head. I'd love a blow job. I had
never had sex other than kissing and touching a girl - basic first base
only stuff. Plus, I was always horny. Even when Charley told me about
getting his dick sucked I felt mine stir. I even had flashes of watching
Charley getting blown by Frank and seeing Charley's cock and the smile on
the face as he got swallowed. The fantasy made me nervous. Why was I so
into that scene? I still knew I liked girls, but maybe I just wanted the
easy, no nonsense, get sucked and walk away, like Charley got. Of course,
I buried my fantasy about watching Charley get it. That was another thing
and I didn't want to speculate on that - just pass it off as horny.

We were finishing up midafternoon on the last day and standing over the
hose cleaning trays and brushes, when Frank came over to chat and brought
2 beers. Charley took one readily so I did the same. I wasn't a saint and
drank at boarding school, but the thought of a beer from a gay guy struck
me that maybe it was a ploy. We sipped and cleaned and chatted bullshit
about school and girls and sports - nothing I'm sure Frank cared anything
about. But at the same time, he grew on me a bit. His laugh was
infectious when he'd tell a story and he didn't hide his gay lifestyle
referring to guys he was with as "bitch" or "homo" and occasionally he'd
make a comment to us like, "Uggh, why don't the gay boys around here have
bodies like you guys." We laughed politely and all I could think was I
only knew one gay kid in the neighborhood; who were the others?

Frank also said he knew Charley was gone for the rest of summer, but
could he show me something. Reluctantly I said sure and he led us into
his house through the back door and into the kitchen where he went to
grab another beer, but we both declined. He shrugged and led us to the
side of the house which was a porch that had been enclosed to make a
fairly decent size family room. There was only a sofa, a flat screen TV
and stand and an old stuffed chair that a sleeping cat obviously used on
a regular basis. Frank told us the room had been built a few years ago,
but he had never decided what to do with it and he definitely wanted it
painted in a "new designer color."

It looked like a pretty cake, straightforward paint job and he asked me
how long it would take. Charley estimated 2-1/2 days with the entire
window trim, which led Frank to ask me if $300 would do it. That was
pretty great for half a week's work, but my mouth immediately opened and
spouted that I was likely going to lifeguard for a friend who needed a
replacement, I wasn't sure, but it wouldn't work, thanks, I'll think
about it, blah, blah...! He just smiled and asked my cell number and
called so I'd have his number. I put it in contacts and said I'd let him
know, but likely it wouldn't work. He shrugged and said just let me know
either way. He said if I did he'd probably also let me do the adjacent
living room the same color. I nodded and Charley and I said goodbyes and
packed the pickup truck.

As we drove off Charley just laughed and said, "You totally sounded like
a homophobic chicken shit."

"I don't know, just weird. Maybe I will; the money's great. Probably not.
A break isn't bad either."

"You're crazy. You need the money and just tell him to fuck off if you're
not interested. Or better yet, tell him he can blow you when you're done
so he should let you alone while you're working." Charley laughed after
he said it.

He dropped me at my house, got out and we gave each other the hand shake
hug with shoulder bump and back pat. He was leaving the next day and not
back until two days after I was leaving for school. I watched him drive
off and then walked up to the house. I pulled my phone out and just
stared at the number. There was a clear blow job or chance to just talk
or whatever in that number, but it seemed like a dangerous path to go
down. But I also felt my dick stir a bit and felt butterflies in my
stomach. I sat on the front porch and again my thumb hovered over the
RECENTS phone numbers in my cell phone again. Again, I looked at it and
resisted.

As I looked at it my phone rang. It was my mom telling me she was with my
aunt and would be home late but she left dinner in the fridge...if that
was ok. I must have sounded annoyed, because she kept saying, "Are you
okay? You sound like you're preoccupied? ...anything happen?" I assured
her I was great and tired and needed a shower - felt gross. She bought it
and hung up.

I was annoyed and again opened the phone, hit my security code, went to
RECENTS and this time pressed the number. I almost stopped and would say
I had ass dialed him, bad thing to say to him, but before I could I
heard, "Dani, how nice to hear from you!" His quick understanding that it
was me calling threw me a bit and I stumbled lying about my friend not
needing me to lifeguard and I could paint if he still wanted me and
thanks for offering and when should I come by...?

He chuckled, probably at my awkwardness, and said I could come by
tomorrow if I wanted, but I'd need to give him time to get paint unless I
wanted to go with him. I told him truthfully I had a family obligation
(my parents were divorced and dad had made plans to come by and take me
school shopping) and was Monday okay? He said that worked fine and
probably was better as he had some stuff going on too. We agreed I'd be
there Monday around 8 am.

I hung up and felt my head swirling almost putting me in a little daze. I
knew it would be a weekend of trying to deal with excitement, anxiety and
probably cold feet and how to back out.

It was a strange night's sleep. I woke several times and my morning wood
was throbbing at 3 am, 5 am and when I woke for good at 7:30 am. Several
times I rolled onto my stomach and just moved my hips into the rough
sheets, but had to stop in order to keep from cumming all over the
sheets. It wouldn't be the first time that happened and despite my
attempts to clean the drying stuff off with tissue I wondered if my mom
could tell when she did the wash. Probably every 17 year old's mother.

I showered a long hot shower and took hold of my cock palming it with
soap as it rose immediately. I liked looking down my glistening soapy abs
to my bouncing dick with the little tufts of hair matted down to either
side of it. I cupped my balls and made my cock bounce even more before
taking hold of it. I imagined Frank and Charley.  Charley was behind me
and had my arms held behind me while Frank rubbed my chest and played
with my tits then slowly slid down looking up at me with a sadistic grin.
Charley whispered in my ear and bumped his mid-section into my ass as
Frank took my cock in his mouth. My left hand stroked and stroked and my
right found my hole and barely fingered it until I felt my legs weaken,
bend and spread. I finally exploded and sent white cream upstream against
the falling shower rain. My legs spread and I squatted slightly moving my
knees further apart. I stroked slowly to let more cut ooze out. My
breathing finally slowed and my dick, still semi hard, let loose a few
more drops. I put a sticky glob on my right index finger and brought it
to my lips. My tongue slid out and delicately took a taste. It was salty
and thicker than I had imagined and I went down for another glob and this
time put it in my mouth and sucked it hard, my tongue taking the glob
like it was a little dick seeping cum. I sucked hard and even my finger
felt seduced. I loved the feeling of sucking hard and feeling the
pressure on my finger. I tried to repeat it but the shower had washed
away any remains of cum.

I exited the shower drying my body and bent to dry my legs. When I stood
up I looked in the mirror as the towel moved to my upper body. I almost
laughed out loud when I saw a long stream of my cum running from the end
of the hair on my forehead, curving around my eyebrow and unto my cheek.
I paused and looked, then took my two fingers and slid them from the
start of the stream down to my cheek and straight into my mouth. It
seemed sweeter although I wondered if the shampoo had tainted it. How
much of that shit can a guy swallow? I didn't know if I could handle it
from another dude or at least swallow much of it. I wondered if Frank, or
Charley, shot big loads and ate it. Frank I was sure probably did. I
wondered about Charley. I had seen his dick several times showering after
swim practice. I remembered it was a little thicker and longer than mine
and actually bigger than other guys, but he would smile and tell us he
was "a shower, not a grower" which I laughed at with others though I
didn't fully understand it until I went online and got it. Thank god for
google.

I went downstairs to wait for my dad. He was taking me to breakfast which
we both liked to do. I loved breakfast out and tended to splurge always
doing eggs meat, potatoes and a side of blueberry pancakes.

He would do the usual kidding to the waitress, "Can you imagine eating
like that and not putting on an ounce?"

Same joke, always acknowledged by some smiling waitress and then he'd
follow with the, "I look at food and gain weight." He accompanied that
line by putting both hands on his gut and patting it.

My dad at age 43 was not at all fat and was actually pretty fit probably
from working construction as a builder and staying active in some kind of
sports with a younger crowd. In winter it was basketball weekly games,
spring and summer softball and in the fall there was an occasional touch
football although I saw that slow him down with twisted ankles or soar
shoulders. Those games were usually Sunday morning events with before NFL
football games that were more gatherings for beer and junk food. He was
about six foot, no idea about his weight but I guessed 185, but
definitely less than 200. His hair was similar in color to mine tinged by
an occasional gray patch. It was kind of a medium brown and he had the
same tousled unkempt style although mine tended to flop over my ears and
forehead more. I guess it was just finer like my mom's. Or as he would
say as he rubbed his hand through it to mess it up more, "You got girl
hair." I'd pull away and would give a sarcastic, "Well, thank you dad."

I found myself a bit nervous about conversation. He knew I was painting
with Charley, but I hoped, having grown up in the neighborhoods around
the area, that he didn't quiz me who the customers were. Frank would
certainly me a contemporary of his in age, but still possible he didn't
know him. After my parents divorced dad moved well away to south of the
city so he wouldn't run into my mom easily. I also suspected it meant he
wouldn't do as many short visits and when I was younger I'd spend some
weekends with him. As I got older that was less convenient as I had
sports and, of course, eventually I left to go away to school so he was
relieved of dad duty for the most part. Our get-togethers now were more
like this - occasional, quick and not too in depth.

Of course after the initial questions about school coming up; dorm,
roommate, and sports; he immediately asked whose houses we painted. I ran
the short list and tried to fill time with descriptions of the nature of
the work, how difficult, how easy, where we made out great and where we
underpriced the job. Unfortunately he knew I was now on my own as Charley
was away so I got down to Frank's house. I didn't want to talk about
painting at Frank's alone.

"Boy, he grew into what he was as a kid." He started.

"What do you mean?" I quizzed him.

"Ha. What do you think? He is so gay and always was." I cut into a
pancake and shrugged looking down. I could feel his eyes looking directly
at me. I yawned to indicate boredom and disinterest, looked at him and
shrugged again.

"I guess. We didn't see much of him. He'd come out occasionally, but
mostly he was gone. Not a big deal." I looked up at him. He looked away
and then got distracted by a woman with little kids he apparently knew.
He waved and she came over. They small talked, he introduced me, she gave
him the approval with a "Wow, bet you get the girls coming around!" to
which he took over with, "Don't give him ideas. He needs to stay with the
school work and worry about the girls in college." Blah, blah, blah.

They chatted a bit more as he went for his credit card and handed it to
the waitress hurrying by. She returned with the leather book and receipt.
I took the chance to say I was going to head to the bathroom and I'd meet
him out front.

The plan was breakfast then to the mall where he would drag me into Sears
just to prove to me that I could get more stuff for a lot less money than
my preferred American Eagle. He'd almost go crazy at me picking out
boxers with a large AMERICAN EAGLE woven into the waist band. He'd grab
packs of four or six boxers at Sears and say "Look at that. That's what
you need kid. You need quantity not advertisement for a fucking company
that doesn't give a shit about you." I'd pick out the smallest quantity
pack with the least old man looking collection and make him a bit happy.
I learned a while ago not to look at bikini briefs which he saw as for
gay guys and "Euro trash." I did get a glimpse at the collections by
looking for boxer briefs which he just accepted, were a young guy thing.
Considering I knew he went between boxers and old tighty-whities, I
didn't see him as a good underwear critic.
We hit Sears first since we parked, could enter from the parking lot and
stroll right into the men's section. He went right to the Back To School
sale table with shirts neatly piled by size. As I stood unmotivated
behind him I heard a young guy's voice talking a bit loudly and defiantly
to two older salesmen. The salesmen were, in my mind, Sears lifers. They
were in their late fifties, one maybe in his sixties, coat and loud ties,
cheap un-shined leather brown shoes and pants hanging below their guts
and cuffs draped over their laced shoes. The young guy I recognized. He
was Joe and we had overlapped in middle school and actually in the same
class for one of those years. Joe was the kid who got picked on for a
while as gay. He lived up to his fem mannerisms and speech.

They were obviously giving each other good-natured, sarcastic criticism,
but it was Joe who was clearly the aggressor and made them laugh and
tease each other over his zingers. Joe stood in dark dress khakis, a
white pressed shirt, sleeves rolled up, and a more tasteful tie, his
hands were perched on his waist and with elbows a little toward the back,
chest sticking out, giving him an almost in charge look. His head faced
them but I could see his eyes angled off to me. I looked down at where my
dad was looking and faked an interest.

My eyes looked up and I could tell he was still glancing at me while
continuing his banter with the two older guys who equally had a fem
quality in voice and mannerisms. One of them handed him something and he
disappeared into a back room. He was obviously a stock boy or something
and at 16 or 17 that he would be, the shirt and tie probably made him
feel mature. I just assumed that because his confidence in talking to, or
at, these guys was not characteristic of the quieter cautious Joe I had
briefly known. I liked that. I don't know why, but seeing him confident
and beaming a bit made me look him over more closely. Curious I guess. I
could see him in the back room folding a shirt and our eyes met. He
smiled and nodded and I returned it.

My dad held shirts against me, I opted for some non-descript stripes and
one check shirt and I let him pay while I wandered aimlessly to a rack of
khakis merely to waste time and seem interested. Joe came out and from
across the rack said hi. We small talked about boarding school and him in
high school and then he dropped the line, "I saw you and Charley are
painting Frank's house."

"Really, you saw us?" I asked.

"Yeah, twice. One day on my way to work the other on my way home. Nice
job. I hoped he paid well. He's loaded." we both laughed.

"No really," he went on, "His mom moved to Florida and gave him the house
and a bundle of money from when his dad died. He owned some company in
New York and sold it and now doesn't do shit." He winced at the word shit
remembering he was at work." We both laughed lightly.

"So you live near there?" I asked the obvious.

He caught the stupid question and, as he had with the older guys, didn't
hesitate to pounce on it. "Well I don't exactly drive around looking for
half naked hot guys. But maybe I should! I live three doors down from
him."

Wow. That picked on gay kid was out and very much a new person. I stared
at his face and he seemed more attractive than I would have guessed. He
always had these large curled lips and I even wondered, stupidly back
then, when I heard he blew some guys if sucking dick made his lips that
large and curled up. He used to do this thing when he talked where he
closed his eyes like he was assembling the words in his mind, start
talking and then open them. It always gave me a chance to stare at his
lips. I wasn't around him that much, but remember that eye close thing
and thought it was, back then "interesting," but now I'd say oddly
"sexy." I struggled with why interesting went to sexy for me suddenly.

Joe was about my height, maybe an inch taller, and very slim, not skinny,
but very thin with good straight posture. I liked his confident stand. I
was actually feeling happy for him after the many years of kid verbal
abuse and who knows what physical abuse, he had emerged as his own
seemingly comfortable self. My dad approached and I shook Joe's hand and
said goodbye.

"Who was that?" Dad asked.

"Meh, a kid I knew for a year in middle school. Never hung with him, but
he was in class so we knew each other."

"Is he a little..." he held his hand out and tilted it back and forth
implying GAY!

"I guess, always seemed to be. Does now, also. We were pretty young, so
who knows?"

We moved out into the mall.

The rest of my weekend was slow torture. I was just anxious and my mind
bounced from calling off the whole painting with a lie to thinking about
sunbathing somewhere in a speedo to darken my tan right up to just a
sliver of ass and my dick. I randomly got hard thinking about painting
shirtless and that led me to agonize over what I'd wear.

On top of that, a new figure entered the stage in my gay fantasy world.
It was Joe. There was something about his commanding demeanor, something
about his more grown up appearance and the picture of his sexy eye
closing and large lips was getting to me. He actually replaced Charley in
the shower, but, unlike my Charley/Frank fantasy, it was just me and him.
His black wavy hair and his arms perched on his hips seemed to control me
in my daydreams. Plus, scary as it was, Joe was an actual, in the flesh,
out and proud gay guy. He just seemed so comfortable with himself if
nothing else I wanted to sit somewhere away from every place and just
talk to him. More than that, it was the first time I really thought about
taking a dick in my mouth. I hadn't thought that of Charley and although
I wanted to feel Frank's dick I hadn't crossed that barrier to imagine me
on my knees sucking him. But several times I saw myself running my tongue
around Joe's dick to his approving voice - Good boy, Dani.

Fortunately, Sunday I had been invited to an old friend's birthday party
and I knew a few of the crowd who were going to be there. Kind of a
harmless crowd, no big studs, no raging assholes, a few nerdy guys and
others I didn't know who went to Kathy, the birthday girl's high school.
Kathy had a long standing crush on me, but I made sure never to show
interest - she just did nothing for me. I tried not to think it was her
slight weight problem, although running into her when I got the invite
she had slimmed down plenty, but I just wasn't there and my interest at
this point was simply sex - guy sex with no obligations, just horny
relief. Of course, being gone all year at school made rejecting a
relationship an easy claim to make.

The party was fine and a good distraction. There was the constant change
of music from one crowd's favorite to another and the groans and claims
of - NO They Suck - by one group and the counter argument would then
ensue. There was an above ground pool that was actually more fun than I
would have guessed and a decent volley ball game in water. The crowd was
lightweight enough that I looked like a stud athlete in the game. The
compliments were nice, but I also knew with another crowd I'd be middle
of the pack at best. Plus my comfort in water as a swimmer was an
advantage. There were also the younger girls, very cute, who flirted, but
I brought up my long distance life and my busyness over the next 3 weeks.
I also found myself staring and kidding with birthday girls' younger
brother. The 14 year old had really grown up to have a pretty nicely
defined body that complimented his short blond hair, tan face and
somewhat little brother annoying attitude that I found...well, sexy. My
sudden attraction to yet another guy ran my mind to a different place. I
guess I wasn't ready to say I was more into guys, but the question was
definitely there.

After over-eating on hamburgers and hotdogs and the obligatory chocolate
cake with white icing, I headed home. Driving by myself was nice and my
mom's Subaru was an acceptable vehicle for cruising the neighborhoods. As
a family with divorced parents and me as only child, the minivan never
came into play thankfully. I had friends who groaned when that became the
car they would get for the day and, with laws restricting who and how
many passengers were allowed with an under 18 driver, mini vans had no
useful purpose other than to get you to the next place.

I had a decent excuse for leaving the party early as my mom wanted me to
take her to my grandma's so she could borrow her car for the remaining
time I had to work. Grandma kept her old Chevy boat, but hardly drove so
if mom could run grandma's errands and take her grocery-shopping; the car
was gladly loaned to us. And mom was actually happy to have the little
extra time to see her mom. My mom had worked for an insurance agency for
years and as a back office person filing claims and doing books she had
flexibility in hours. The Agency was owned by an older couple and the
wife liked going off to visit her children in various cities in the US
and her husband liked the golf course which he claimed had built the
business. So they were never concerned about mom mixing up her hours.

I dropped mom and headed home appreciative of the time alone in the
house. I had declined to join them for dinner having been stuffed at the
cookout birthday party. They understood and mom ended by saying, "get
some rest, you seem tired or restless the past few days. You're probably
anxious about going back to school." I just shrugged said I was fine and
left.

I went up to my room to deal with my first problem. I was a lucky only
child. Our modest middle class home was bought not long after mom and dad
were married. The small 3 bedroom 1.5 bath house was quickly transformed
by my dad. They combined the 2 smaller bedrooms and made the bathroom
strictly for that room. The attic had a walk up staircase and had been
built to allow for future expansion so my parents had visualized 2 kids
with their own rooms and a bath in between. They got one room and the
bathroom done a few years after I was born, but then the divorce came and
I ended up with a room and bathroom upstairs and no sibling to share
with. Like I said, "lucky"... especially now.

I knew exactly the look I was going for. I went to the bottom drawer in
in my dresser and pulled out my very faded and tight middle school issued
gym trunks. They were too big back in middle school but now they were a
little tight and the legs barely went past my crotch. They were so faded
and thread bare that the school name and logo was not at all discernible.
My big question was what did I wear underneath? I pulled out two options.
I had a secret stash of bikini underwear and I went right for the bright
red pair. They were underwear but they had a shiny material that felt so
comfortable and I thought looked sexy. As skimpy as they were you'd never
see them either from the waists band or the legs so my other option was a
turquoise jock strap. It had the possibility of riding up revealing a
little flesh between the jock waists band and the drooping trunks.

I stood on my bed to get a look at each in the mirror above my dresser. I
looked over my tanned body and regretted that I hadn't spent more time
working on tanning my upper thighs. But my little bubble butt hopefully
was enough lure to a horny gay 40 year old. I liked my butt. When I was
younger I hated hearing my parents complain that my pants needed to be
big enough to fit around my butt but then left my waist far too loose.
Now my body had come together and my long torso seemed to flow right to
that butt and onto my muscular but slim legs.

Just modeling the under garments made me hard and I played with tugging
on the material to make my dick pop out. It felt good to swing free and
see myself in the mirror ready for Frank's drooling mouth. I pictured
myself on the step ladder and accidentally popping out to mesmerize the
old guy and have him come and take hold. I wanted it. I hesitated to
touch my erection knowing I would jerk until release. Just standing
there, wagging my cock, felt sexy and, hopefully, enticing to Frank. I
touched myself, squeezed and stroked lightly and immediately I was
seeping pre-cum. I wanted my first blow job so badly now. I also had
doubts about me. Would I let him? Would he want to? Maybe I was assuming
too much and maybe he just wanted Charley. Maybe this whole fucking thing
was a bad idea.

I got down and decided on the red pair for tomorrow. The shirt, which
would quickly be removed once I got to work, was easy. I had an old faded
black Zac Brown concert shirt that, like many of my t-shirts had the
sleeves removed from a few inches from the bottom to an inch away from
the sleeve seam. It was cool -in many ways -and exposed my sides and abs.
It was going to be warm and I didn't recall any ac units in the house, or
at least in that room so who would question being in skimpy shorts and
shirtless.

The next day I showered early and dressed in the chosen attire, but put
my full length Nike shorts over the skimpy trunks so as not to get mom
asking questions about my choice of work outfit. I gobbled down toast and
went to the garage to load up the trays and brushes we had and I had used
with Charley. I was off.

I pulled in to the shady driveway and off to the side so Frank could back
out if needed. I slipped off the Nike shorts, stepped out to a cool
morning air, and started to unload and organize when Frank came out the
back door.

"Gaaawd kid! Am I really going to have the pleasure of that body sweating
in my family room?"

I replied with a big smile and a nod. If Charley had been there I would
have smirked and tempered the smile, but I could feel my flirtatious
horny side letting itself out. Then I tried to show my modesty.

"Sorry. I may have over prepared for a hot day," I replied back. He shook
his head.

"Dani boy, the only thing hot I'll notice is that beautiful body and face
of yours." Again I didn't try to contain my approval and smiled from ear
to ear. It even made me stir in my shorts a bit.

I carried my brushes and rollers in and walked through the kitchen to the
family room. The room had been emptied of the few pieces of furniture and
it's place were two small step ladders and a solid wood table that looked
like an old library table-solid and surface worn. The step ladders were
the type often used in kitchens with wide steps but not meant for major
construction work. One was two steps the other had three. Frank followed
me into the room and explained.

"I think you should be able to do fine with these ladders but the high
side I figured we'd put the shorter one on the table so you can reach the
peak." He explained.

It made sense. The room was a bank of windows across the back and one
window and a door on the side facing the back yard. The side with the
windows was probably only 7' high but the roof slanted up to the house
side rising to probably 10' high. I could see the shorter ladder on the
table would put me just about to where the wall met the ceiling.

Frank went on, "Listen though, Dani. I don't want you up on the ladder
and table without me here. I'm just being cautious. Please start on the
parts you can reach and when it gets to the high reach part I will get up
on the table too to stabilize you when you reach."

I nodded and said it all looked fine and that I'd start on the window
side with all the cutting to the ceiling and around the five windows.
Charley told me the first thing is trimming and the painter term is
cutting. Once that's done, rolling is easy.

Frank told me he'd be out most of the morning but would be back around
noon and did I like cheese steak subs that he'd bring back. I gave him a
big smile and said that would be great and thanked him. I then slowly
raised my cut sleeved t-shirt revealing my abs, then chest and finally
allowing it to mess my hair. I could feel Frank staring as I removed the
modest piece of apparel.

"Here, I'll get that out of here so you don't get paint on it," he said
then added, "Anything else you want to take off." He smiled broadly. I
smiled back and faked starting to remove my skimpy shorts and stopped. He
raised an eyebrow and added, "Yea, I wish." We both laughed and again I
felt my cock smile, too.

As I settled into positioning the ladders and stirring and pouring paint
I watched Frank exit and head to his car. I soon heard the vehicle pull
out and I set to work. It was really pretty straight forward and with a
cement floor that needed no drop cloth. I could move along pretty
quickly, albeit, with caution to not get the gray paint he had picked out
onto the white window frames. The good news was the windows themselves
were new and made of a plastic or metal material so there was no need to
paint them. I could see this was actually a two and a half day project as
Charley had suggested.

I broke for lunch when Frank returned and we small talked over sandwiches
and coke. Frank did a little prying into sex at boarding schools but I
just told him the truth which was that I heard occasional boy/girl
stories but my sex life was nil. Frank replied by suggesting it was a
shame all those boys and girls and all I had was my hand to thank for
sexual favors. I laughed and said that was pretty much my life in
boarding school.

I worked steady through the afternoon and heard Frank go in and out and
sometimes on his cell phone in the back yard. I can clearly tell his
friendly social calls from business calls and at one point I heard him
mention that he was monitoring a hot little 17 year old half naked cutie
painting his family room. Whatever was said in reply was responded to by
Frank saying fairly loudly, "That's my hope, that IS my hope!" He laughed
loudly.

***

Part two will follow shortly.  Please write me if you wish to communicate
with the real Dani.

wrsjrm@gmail.com