By: Unknown Author & Ryan Michaels
One summer morning, I changed into my bike shorts and hopped on my bike and started peddling around the neighborhood. I had been riding for about an hour when I drove by a house that had a For Sale sign out front, and a couple of guys painting the outside of it.
Both of the painters looked to be in their mid-twenties, and both were working without shirts on, wearing just shorts and shoes. Both were tanned and well-built. I wouldn't have kicked either guy out of bed, and checking them out caused a stirring inside my bike shorts. I almost hit the curb looking at them.
After averting a header over the handlebars and preparing to get my bike back in motion, I noticed there was a pickup truck with deep purple metallic paint backed in the driveway with a For Sale sign taped to the windshield. I wasn't in the market for a vehicle, but I decided that pretending to be interested and going up and taking a look at it would give me the perfect opportunity to get a closer look at the hot studs that were painting the house.
"Can I help you?" the one guy called over when he saw me there.
"I just noticed the For Sale sign while passing by; just taking a look, thanks," I replied.
I took a good look at the truck to look convincing as to why I was there and was about to get back on my bike and ride off when the guy called out to the other one, "Yo, Mike, there's some guy interested in your truck."
The other guy came jogging over to the driveway.
"Hi, I'm Mike," he said with a smile once he arrived in front of me. "You interested?" he asked.
God, was I interested, but not in his truck! The man was even more gorgeous up close. Of course, I indicated I was interested, saying that I had no vehicle and was tired of peddling my bike around town, and he started telling me about the truck, which afforded me the opportunity to take a good look at his body.
He was about five-foot-eight, had dark brown hair, a naturally smooth chest, tanned skin, and was sporting a six-pack as well as a couple of tattoos. Other than baggy cut-off shorts riding low on his hips, he was not wearing any other clothes except tennis shoes without socks. He also had specs of white paint all over him which made him look even sexier.
This guy could really chatter on and on but he finally came to a pause in his long-winded sales pitch and said, "I gotta tell you dude, if you end up buying my truck, don't give up on the cycling; it's obviously gotten you, and kept you, in great shape, and you wouldn't want all that hard work to go down the drain."
I knew that his comment was purely innocent, just a guy in good shape complimenting another guy who was also in good shape, and not a come-on, but I decided to be kind of bold in my response and said, "Thanks. Cycling is great for the legs and butt, but you've got an amazing chest. Wish mine looked as good as yours."
He grinned and then did that thing bodybuilders do where they make their pecs jump.
"Wow, that's amazing. How do you do that?"
"It's not hard; anyone can do it if they do the right weight training to develop those muscles," Mike replied. "So, back to the truck, you interested in buying her?"
Obviously, I had no interest in buying his truck, so I said, "I'll definitely think it over, but right now I gotta jet. I really gotta piss bad and need to find a bush or something." That last part was true; I really did need to piss badly.
"Dude," he laughed. "No need to be pissing on some old lady's bush. The house is empty, but we're also painting up the inside and have got the key. You are more than welcome to go inside and use the washroom if you want."
"Are you sure it's ok?" I asked.
"Sure. Not a problem, dude. Come on, I'll show you where it is."
I thanked him and I took in his ass as he led me to the house and then showed me where the washroom was.
I went into the washroom, closed the door, and took care of my full bladder.
As I was coming down the hall from the washroom I could see the living room and noticed that Mike, as well as the other guy, were both in the house now, and Mike was saying something to him quietly. When I got out into the living room, Mike introduced me to his buddy, telling me his name was Brad.
Brad also looked to be in his mid-twenties, with the same dark brown hair on his head, and some close-cropped hair on his chest, and was muscular, too, but not quite as ripped as Mike. Like Mike, he was also sporting a couple of tattoos and wearing nothing but baggy cut-off shorts hanging low on his hips.
After introducing me, Mike indicated they were going to take a break and wanted to know if I wanted a beer. Naturally, I said yes.
Mike opened the lid of a cooler that sat in the room and pulled out three beers, handing one to Brad and one to me.
Because the house was empty, there was no furniture in the place, so Mike grabbed some empty paint buckets and turned them upside down, placing two of them side by side and the third opposite them.
I was sitting across from Mike and Brad, and every time Mike lifted the beer can to his lips his right bicep flexed and it was driving me crazy with lust. After sneaking a furtive glance at Mike's crotch, I also noticed that the top button on his cutoffs was now undone and I could see even more of the jet-black streak of hair leading down to his crotch.
Besides being sexually attracted to Mike, I also admired his ripped physique and wanted to know how he achieved it, so I started asking Mike about his workout routine.
Brad's male competitive spirit kicked in and he immediately started ragging on his buddy saying, "Mike may have bigger muscles, but for the muscle that counts the most with women, I have him easily beat."
Mike shook his head, seemingly having heard this argument before, and then rolled his eyes and said, "Brad is just jealous because I get more looks from women than he does."
"You may get the looks, but that's all you get because while you are spending all your time in the gym with your 'homo' bodybuilder friends, I get my workout laying pipe with the ladies, lots of ladies." Brad then jumped up and stood in front of both of us and cupped and squeezed his crotch in his hands and said, "Women like a big dick better than they like big muscles, and they'll choose the big dick every time."
Meanwhile, my dick was begging to get hard, which is bad when you are wearing skin-tight Lycra bike shorts. I was praying they would not notice my growing bulge, and I leaned forward a bit so they would not spot the evidence.
"You've only seen me pissing, so how would you know? I'm probably as big as you are, or bigger when I'm hard," Mike responded.
Brad scoffed at this and then looked at me and asked, "What would you prefer if you were a chick, a big dick, or big muscles?"
"I'd have to see your dick to know for sure, since I have already seen Mike's muscles, which, I have to say, are pretty awesome." I couldn't believe I actually said those words, but by that point, I was buzzed after the exercise and drinking a beer on an empty stomach, and so fucking horny. I knew if it hadn't been for that, I would never have been bold enough, or brave enough, to respond that way.
But what I really couldn't believe was Brad's reaction to my statement. Instead of getting mad and asking me if I was some kind of homo, or telling me to get the fuck out of there, he simply started to unbutton his shorts and hauled out an uncut cock. It hung about five inches or so, soft.
After pulling it out, he let go of it and crossed his arms over his chest. When he did that, his loose-fitting shorts fell to the floor leaving him there naked just a few feet in front of me.