This is the first chapter of a story I plan to develop further. The story is called "My Construction Man". This chapter is called "The Best Day".
My Construction Man
Chapter 1: The Best Day
Sunlight poured in from the open window, illuminating the unmade bed in the center of the room. Around the bed lay clothes, thrown about in different directions. Torn, faded jeans lay beside the bed. A pair of socks, separated by a few feet, lay near the jeans. A well-worn golden grey jock, tearing at the waistband, had landed on the nightstand.
I began to bring the room to order, making the bed to his liking. I turned on both desk lamps and glanced at the digital clock. Ten to four, he'd be back any minute. I picked up the pace, quickly folding and stacking every piece of clothing. My heart calmed as I picked up the last piece, the rank jockstrap. I gently lifted it, balling its material behind the pouch.
With purposeful slow movement, I brought the ball of used fabric towards my face. My lungs emptied and my chest tightened. I inhaled deeply, filling every inch of myself with his pungent raw stench as my head fell slowly backwards and my chest heaved forward. My eyes closed, and I could see him, as I first saw him from the window....
That first day, weeks ago now, was one I'd never forget. The summer had been unusually humid, the sun beat down forcefully. I knelt before him, the god-like figure. Sweat glistening on the hair sprout from his strong, sculpted, beautiful body. He towered over me as I worshiped him with my gaze. His actions were slow and deliberate. He wore an evil grin.
Reaching down into his jeans, he grabbed his crotch, cupped his balls, and brought his hand out to rub on my face. His wet, hot, calloused hand first ran under my nose; I inhaled deeply, impassioned by his scent. I stared into his purposeful eyes, felt my heart beating, heard it growing louder with his actions. His hand passed over my entire face. I could hardly wait to serve him, to be at his knees and at his disposal. He knew it.
This was it, the culmination of a week's worth of dreaming and fantasy. A week's worth of teases, lust, and passion. I had seen him through the second-story window, sweaty soiled shirt, torn fading jeans, his arms strong as steel. The handsome rugged face under the white hard-hat featured a thick mustache, trailing to the jaw at each end.
That week I had watched, lusted after him. The other men took orders from him, and even they had hinted lust in their stares. And so I watched, put my books to the side, anxious and nervous. He had not yet seen me; he was preoccupied by his work.
His hand traveled slowly across my face as his glare confirmed that I would be his to use as he pleased. His bulge was growing, now only an inch from my face. He nodded faintly, towards his bulge. I did not hesitate, immediately pushing my face deep into his sandy torn jeans. The scent was strong, as I quickly moved my head from side to side with my mouth gaping, tongue protruding.
My tongue followed the well-established outline of his cock, as I darted up towards its end and quickly back. His scent was stronger yet, intoxicating, drugging. His breath quickened. Briefly, I saw his chest heave as I moved along his dick through the denim.
At that window I figured he would never discover my admiration, so I watched entirely without restraint. All of my free time that week was spent at that campus library, by the second floor window, which offered the best view of the construction site. I fantasized about him every night, and once thought to pursue him after his workday ended. To my dismay the site was fenced entirely. Most men left by foot, though I caught only a glimpse of him as he drove off in his black pick-up.
The next day, hottest of the season, my luck had changed. He had taken off his shirt, as I watched from the window. As he wiped the sweat off his head with the rolled shirt, he studied the building before him with care. His eyes met mine, I was certain. In my lust, I hesitated to look away. When I had thought to stop staring, it was no use. His gaze fixed at my window, though his expression remained unchanged.
Filled with nervous energy, I managed to wear a smile as his gaze became more meaningful with time. He had understood it all. He raised an eyebrow, nodded his head forward and went back to his work. I didn't know what would come of it, but had my hopes up.
His strong arm flexed as he pulled my hair back. He leaned forward and let a long strand of spit drip to my face. He smirked as he pulled me back to face his wet denim crotch, as the slimy spit dripped down my face, and onto my tongue that I held out for him.
He unbuttoned the top of his jeans, and by my hair thrust me into his glistening sculpted abs. My nose pressed into the supple wet hairy muscle, my mouth worshipping each inch of his beauty.
On the first day that he took notice of me, he reminded me of his awareness a few times throughout the remainder of the day as he worked. Especially so when he came to the edge of the site that bordered the campus library. Once, he suddenly looked up at my window, saw my intent stare and grabbed his crotch through his jeans. He held it, as though presenting it to me. My eyes widened, and he smiled subtly. Again he went back to work.
At three thirty I was once again by the exit gate of the construction site. I stood a few feet from where his truck had passed the day before. I anxiously awaited, I hoped he would have me. He would stop for me, I would get in, and I'd be blowing him as he drove. His truck was on its way, I saw him again, closer than I had ever. His shoulders were broad, his frame intimidating and powerful. He noticed me, and again let me see a slight smirk and raise of an eyebrow. Adrenaline pumped through my body. He drove up to me, slowing slightly, then drove past. I followed, but he sped off onto the roadway and soon he was out of sight and I was out of luck.
His musk overpowered my senses as now my actions were, to the most of my ability, an extension of his needs. His powerful arms pulled again at my hair and pushed my head onto his zipper, my mouth at it's base. I lowered it with my teeth as he pulled the jeans down at his sides. Revealed was a sight to die for. His cock, large, veiny, complete with a bulging head dripping with precum stuck out above his used, yellowed jockstrap. This jock was in worse condition than the one I was now holding to my nose in his bedroom. Pouch tearing significantly, yellowed with piss, wet with sweat and precum. The smell eminating from it was inordinately powerful: drugging, fetid, manly, and pungent. My head was thrust directly into that moist pouch, my nose pressed deeply between the man's testicles, and my tongue lapped the bottom of the cloth, the part holding the most moisture.
The day this had happened was the one after he had driven off without me. I had almost given up hope, but returned to my window post. On that day, as the one before, he would tease me. I would watch and he would act unaware, though at key times, he would face me and wink, raise an eyebrow, or nod. On that day, he had gone out of sight of the other workers and faced me directly, myself being his exclusive audience. When our eyes met, he grabbed his crotch, and I could see the bulge grow. I wanted it. I needed it. He knew. His arm raised and he repeatedly coiled two fingers as if to summon me and nodded to me noticeably. Thinking this was another tease, I smirked though did not move. His expression shifted, his stare had more power, he motioned again this time with his mouth clenched, nose snarled, and brows bent angrily. I took off. I rushed to the exit on the other side of the building, and speedily to the fence's exit gate where I had been on those two previous occasions. I waited a few agonizing moments. Had it been another tease? Had I imbued more meaning than he intended? As my hopes began to fall, the gate opened slightly and he appeared.
I could barely breathe, as he held my head in place, tightly against his pouch. I was driven entirely by instinct now, I would do anything he wanted, at any cost. I was his, and I would do whatever it took to keep my position. He released his grip on the back of my head, but I took over in pushing my head deep into his crotch. His body would be worshipped as he deserved. I would serve him as he desired. I turned my head to lick the sides of his stenchy jock, and bathed him with my slut mouth. I covered it entirely, pressing my face against the top of his cock, sticking out above, saluting me for my efforts. My bathing began to sweep wider, as I buried my face between his powerful thighs and scrotum. I licked his sweaty inner thighs, I tongue across his abs, stopping on my way to lick the bottom and sides of his cock. The tastes were fantastic and I was out of my rational control. I didn't think, I lived the moment, I did it for him.
As the gate had opened and I got my first glimpse of this formidable construction god, my jaw dropped and eyes widened. He towered over me, his huge figure, probably six inches higher than mine, all of him was sculpted as though he had walked off the page of a Tom of Finland drawing. My heart beat heavily, my body though was paralyzed by this man's silhouette imprinted on my retinas as he stood glaring down at me. I could see in his glance he was perturbed with me. "Why didn't you come right away?!" his expression demanded. I suggested an apology in my eyes. "Get in here," he spoke with a harsh low voice and he reached out and grabbed my t-shirt, pulled me forward towards him. He pulled me forward, though he himself hadn't moved. He dropped his grasp when he had pulled me against his own body. My height ended at the bottom of his chin, so my face was at the level of his musky defined chest. From this position he seemed to study my visage, and in a few seconds, he began to walk through the opening and onto the site. His large hand again grabbed my shirt, and I followed him as he had planned.
As we walked, him pulling me along, my eyes caught a glimpse of the other men on the job, all well built and all sweating profusely on this torrid summer day, though none were as ineffably handsome as the man leading me. On the opposite end of the site from where the library stood were a row of portable toilets. I swallowed my reservations about them, and was ready to do whatever he asked. I wanted to be his, and would do anything he wanted. Gladly, he took me a good distance behind the toilets, offering a semi-private area, in a corner of the fencing. Along the length the view was obstructed by the toilets. He had stopped and I followed suit, but he pulled further towards him and I stumbled into his body, feeling the moisture, getting my first whiff of his incredible smell. My hands fell onto his pecs to regain my footing, and as I did, I stood no more than an inch from this man's remarkable physique. He wanted me to be weak, he wanted me to stumble onto his body. I saw one arm move, and felt both of my wrists trapped in his grip, he put a hand on each end of his torso. "Grab it," came as a bark from his mouth. I gripped his thin soiled white shirt and he lifted my hands over his head, the sweaty shirt pulled off revealing his incredible hairy, defined torso. He let go of one hand, held the shirt, and let my other hand go. I lowered them to my sides as he dropped his moist shirt across my face. He rubbed his hand across it, finding my mouth and stuffing it full with cloth. I breathed in deeply.
"Kneel, slut," I heard in another quick bark. Blinded by the shirt, I knelt before him. I wanted him! I wanted to see him, to exist for him! I hoped he wouldn't leave me blinded much longer, but resigned myself again to do whatever he wanted of me, anything to keep him satisfied. "You're mine now, bitch," he spoke slower, emphasizing the word "mine." I felt a sudden strong pressure moving against my forehead, and quickly the shirt became wet and began to take on the unmistakable odor of piss. It splattered across the top of my head, and on a hot day like that one it felt relieving and fresh. I tried to taste it through the shirt when enough had collected; It was salty, intriguing, and heavy. The stream lasted a long time, and I got to sample a large amount through the ratty shirt. My entire front was covered in it as it kept pouring onto my covered face and down to my kneeling body. My shirt was heavy, soaked as were the top of my jeans. I was enjoying the taste and wished he would lift the shirt and feed it to me directly from the source.
I wouldn't get that chance as I noted the stream stop, and another command issued, "Now put it on, and tell me whose bitch you are." I lifted it, my eyes again fawning over his beautiful statuesque body, and put the heavy yellowed shirt over mine. "I'm YOUR bitch, Sir." His eyebrow raised slightly, as though to call suspicion to what I had said. I added, "I will serve you, I will be an extension of your powerful body, existing only to please you as you deserve to be treated, Sir!" This garnered a more favorable response. Smirking, he looked down at me, it was all exactly as he wanted. His piss dried slowly on my face as the moment drew on.
And this is how, on the very best day of my life, I came to be kneeling before this glorious, powerful construction stud. Right then he would reach into his jeans to grab his crotch, cup his balls, and cover my face with his intoxicating odor. It was then that he would press my face into his demin-covered crotch and I would slobber over it. It was then that he would let down a wad of spit onto my face, and then that I would bury my head into his putrid torn jock strap. I'd begin bathing him in my spit, starting with every surface of the jock strap and covering his thighs, abs, and cock.
My tongue service continued, from his abs to the musky used pouch, I covered every area with great care. His large dick throbbed and became wider yet. It rewarded me with slimy salty precum in no short quantity. He pulled my head back, and stepped over my body, passing my head between his legs. He let out a muted grunt and I dove right into the deep, dark, fetid ass. He pushed my head further still, and I tried with all my might to dig deeper with my tongue. I used my hands to separate his muscular rounded cheeks, and lapped up all over. I alternated between my tongue and nose, pushing into his hole as I thought he wanted.
My nose had been deep within him, and he reached back to hold my head in place. In a few seconds as my nose dug only slightly deeper, he let out a fart that forced his ass to flap around my nose, tickling and filling the air with a surprisingly pleasant fragrance. I was in heaven.
He stepped back from over me and now again I slobbered on his jock, though now looking up at his face, to read what he wanted me to do next. I continued my task for a good while, sucking at his individual testicals through the fabric. Then, upon my best guess as to the meaning his changed expression carried, I lowered the jock with my teeth, as much as I could as I alternated sides. As I slipped the final side down his thigh, his cock, wet with new precum, bounced out of its encasing onto my shoulder. It was huge, and I looked up at him again. He squinted and smirked knowingly, "Open up," he commanded. He lowered himself to pull both jock and jeans down to his feet and in the process let a larger wad of spit collect at his lips. He was bent down, his head only a few inches from mine, his glare was embracing, as I stared, mouth wide open. The spit, considerably more than before, slid down from his mouth and into mine as he winked favorably. I swallowed, though only later would learn through repetition that this was the foundation of a reward system for adequately servicing his needs. My reward was a piece of him, something he'd made and given generously to me. I would learn to appreciate the rarity and significance of the gesture.
His frame rose back to fully upright. Now my view was of my construction god wearing absolutely no clothing from the ankles up. The view was tremendous, as he rose high above my kneeling body and all of him was incredibly tuned, tanned, covered in hair which held his delicious sweat. His cock, hard as steel, protruded a great distance thickly covered in my saliva, his precum and sweat. It glistened in the setting sun. I hoped I'd be able to fit it all down my throat, and could hardly restrain myself from trying. His large balls hung low in a hair-covered scrotum.
He became somewhat restless and I quickly went for his cock. Before I could get it though, he grabbed it by the base and pushed it down onto my face. He spread the mixture of precum, sweat, and saliva all across my face, and again grunted. I opened widely and he moved his hips back to put the head in my mouth. He held me and thrusted forward. I resist my gag reflex, though his cock had not yet passed my mouth. I ran my tongue on its bottom inside my mouth and he pulled out entirely. A strand of saliva hung between my mouth and his oversized cock. Again, this time with more force and a tighter grip, he thrusted down into my mouth making it down my throat. I couldn't breathe and was still many inches from his thick pubic hair. I resisted the gag, my eyes watered as I greedily pushed more in. He pulled out again. Gasping for air, my throat again filled with his tool. Again, he removed himself entirely and thrust forward.
Eventually the pace would become familiar to me, though on that day I would not touch my nose to his pubes as I so desperately tried to accomplish. Either his thrust would end before I could make it or my gagging won out. As time passed I felt lightheaded, and on some thrusts I felt close to faint. He was loving it, his face now wore a wide grin, one I had never seen. His grunts became frequent. Thrust after thrust, I got more comfortable and did more with my tongue. I could feel his muscles tense, his grip on my head tightened and his cock pulsed strongly.
He moaned deeply and powerfully as he gave me another reward. He had pulled his cock out of my throat, jacking it with his powerful arm, as I played with its head in my mouth. The head contracted rapidly, and at once, it tensed for a long time as the first spurt of his load filled my mouth. I swallowed quickly, awaiting the next, though by then he had removed his dick entirely and lowered slightly so that his cock head was but inches from my face, eye-level. The second, third, and fourth explosions hit my face with some force. My mouth was still opened widely, as I licked frantically all I could dripping down my face. Its taste was strong and carried a hint of sweetness, its texture was thick. I played with it in my mouth towards the end, covering my tongue with my gooey delicious prize.
He moaned once last time, louder still than the previous, as the final spurts landed across my face. He had continued to grin, approving of my service. He used his softening cock to swipe across my face picking up the errant cum, and feeding it to me. It took four passes until most of the cum was in me, and I could not have been happier.
He bent forward, bringing his glistening body near to mine, and pulled up his jock and jeans. "By the gate, end of the day," he spoke, softer than usual. With that, he walked off.
I continued to kneel, facing nothing but the setting sun beyond the fence.
To be continued....
I hope you've enjoyed the story, and I also hope you'll email me with any comments, suggestions, or encouragement. Please don't be shy! I would love to hear from you! My address: prurientmen@gmail.com
I'm going to keep track of the stories I write at: http://www.geocities.com/prurientmen