"We have reason to believe that man first walked upright to free his hands for masturbation."
 photo BateBookBlog_Header.gif

Sunday, April 4, 2021

All Male Fiction: The House Painters

By: Unknown Author & Ryan Michaels

 


The one good thing about living in Houston, Texas, which is very hot and humid during the summer, is that men tend to strip off their shirts whenever the opportunity presents itself; so, there is a lot of eye candy to look at, and that makes a good trade-off for living in such a hot and humid city.

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.

With Mike taking in his buddy's dick along with me, he said, "You just look bigger because you are uncut."

Brad laughed and said, "If you are so confident, then stand up and drop 'em, and then we'll see who has the bigger cock… unless you are too much of a chicken shit to show what you've got."

"I'm not afraid to show it. I'm as proud of what I've got between my legs as I am of my muscles," Mike stated.

"Ha, yeah, ok," Brad retorted.

Mike then stood up and dropped his pants to the floor, and Brad and I both took a look. Mike's dick also looked to be about five inches or so soft, the only difference being that he was cut and Brad was not.

Brad then moved over next to Mike and said to me, "Ok, you be the judge; who has the bigger dick?"

"Well, it's hard to tell. They both look about the same to me," I answered honestly.

"Oh, come on, I'm definitely bigger than him; it's obvious," Brad said.

"You're not any bigger. I told you, you just look a bit bigger because your foreskin hangs off the head of your cock," Mike said.

"Come on dude, take another look and say who's bigger," Brad said to me.

I was happy to take another look, of course, and after taking a good long look I said to Brad, "Well, yours does look a bit bigger, but I think it's like Mike said, it's just because of the foreskin." Then I got really bold and said, "But, then again, what you've got hanging soft isn't really important; it's how big it gets when it's hard that matters," and then I quickly added, "As far as most women are concerned."

Mike and Brad looked at me for a moment, then looked at each other, nodded some sort of agreement to unspoken words, and then both grabbed hold of their dicks and began to slowly massage them.

I couldn't stop staring at these two beautiful examples of manhood as they both pulled on their growing cocks, Brad in particular, as he kept pulling his foreskin back and forth over his cockhead. I really couldn't believe what was going on in front of my eyes. It's amazing what some guys will do with a little beer in them, including me!

I leaned back out of my hunched forward position to enjoy the show in front of me, looking back and forth between them, forgetting that leaning back made my hard-on obvious in my tight bike shorts.

They were both almost hard at this point, and soon Mike's cock came to a full hard-on and he was about an average six inches, but very thick with veins running all along the shaft. Obviously, he was a show-er and not a grower.

Brad reached a fully boned state moments later and easily had an eight-inch cock, though it was not quite as thick as Mike's, and it was obvious that he was a grower and a show-er!

"So, which one is bigger," Brad wanted to know. "As if I need to ask," he added looking at Mike's cock and chuckling.

Before I could respond (not that I needed to, it was obvious Brad was bigger) Mike piped up and said, "Ok, so you may be bigger by a couple of inches, but I'm thicker, and when it comes to fucking pussy, thickness is more important than length."

Brad laughed, "Yeah, keep telling yourself that, shorty!"

"It's true," Mike said. "And, thick or not, women can suck one my size way easier and better than they can suck one like yours. I get deep-throated a lot. Bet you don't. They'd fucking choke on that skinny stick!"

Rather than giving a retort to Mike, Brad looked at me and said, "You're the judge for this debate, so if you were a chick which one would you rather suck on?"

Totally on a beer buzz, I replied, "Well, Mike makes a valid point about his being easier to suck, but a truly talented mouth could handle either and do just as good a job on both." Purposely leaving out the third person 'chick' reference, I continued, "So, I guess my answer would be that I would like to suck them both."

Brad looked down at my crotch, my hard-on even more visible due to the wet spot I was now sporting. Then he looked at Mike, and they both nodded. "Yeah, we kinda figured you would like to do that. We saw you checking us out, how you almost flew over your handlebars, pretending to be interested in the truck. We knew what you were really interested in, that's why we were out here waiting for you when you came out of the washroom," Mike informed.

"Yeah," Brad said as he kicked his shorts free of his feet and took a few steps closer to me, his big, hard cock mere inches from my face now. "So, go ahead, suck our cocks," he said as his hand came to the back of my head and pulled it to him until his cockhead was mashed against my lips.

I opened my mouth and rather than letting me slide down over it, he shoved it in, forcing almost all eight inches down my throat. I gagged and he eased up on his grip, allowing me to pull back a bit. With the forcefulness gone, I went at my own pace and began sucking Brad's big cock with a passion.

Mike stood next to Brad playing with his own hard cock and started a verbal dialog as I was sucking off Brad. "Suck on that big dick, homo! I could tell you were a fag the moment I saw those skin-tight shorts; only a queer would go out in public showing off his junk like that. Get those gay fucking shorts off!"

I kinda liked the verbal abuse, being treated like nothing but a cocksucker to these two presumably straight studs, who were just taking advantage of a willing mouth. So, pulling off Brad's cock, I stood and quickly peeled off my bicycle shorts as instructed. My seven-inch erection sprung up and slapped me in the belly and then fell forward, sticking straight out. "Ha-ha, so much for you thinking you were the biggest; even he's bigger than you, Mikey," Brad chuckled.

I sort of giggled a little too, both from the look on Mike's face when he saw that I was better hung than him and from Brad's comment.

"What you laughing at," Mike scowled. "You're still just a cocksucker, so what you got don't mean shit. Sniff my fucking balls, queer," he said as he grabbed me behind the neck, pulled me to my knees, and shoved my face into his nut sack.

As I sniffed Mike's balls, Brad reached down, took my wrist, and guided my hand back to his cock. "Stroke it, bitch!"

"Yeah, and lick my balls, cocksucker!"

I started lapping Mike's balls; they tasted salty from dried sweat, and I licked and sucked it all off as I removed my hand from Brad's cock and ran them up and down Mike's muscular legs, which felt like they were chiseled out of Marble.

Seeing this Mike goaded his buddy saying, "See he still likes my muscles better – can't keep his hands off my body. You like those muscles don't you boy?"

"Mmhmm," I hummed into his balls and, feeling his comments gave me license, I began to explore up his belly and chest. I ran my fingers through the treasure trove strip of hair that ran a perfect line from the bottom of his belly down to his thick bushy pubic patch. This resulted in Mike grabbing me by the back of my hair and shoving my mouth down onto his cock.

"Get all that cock in that throat fag boy! You know you want to lick the sweat off a real man's cock!" Mike said as he shoved my head further down on his shaft. I was now getting more of Mike's cock in my throat until my nose was coming up to his thick patch of pubic hair, and then he let go.

I worked his shaft up and down for less than a minute, and then Brad stopped jerking himself and was grabbing me by the hair and shoving my mouth back onto his cock. He moved me back and forth a few times and then grabbed the back of my head again and held it as far down on his cock as possible. His thigh muscles contracted and then he began moaning and squirting his thick load of cum down my throat.

Once he withdrew, I was pulled back over to Mike's crotch and resumed running my hands over his muscular body as I worked his cock with my mouth. The verbal assault continued until I started tweaking his nipples with my finger and thumb. That shut him up, other than soft moaning, and he let his head drop back while he enjoyed my mouth sucking his thick cock.

I could see that Brad never lost his hard-on, and I spotted another drop of cum on the tip of his cock. I stopped sucking on Mike long enough to squeeze Brad's cock, bringing more cum to the tip, and then licked it off. Brad had been silent up to this point but then said, "Damn! This fuckin' queer just can't get enough of my cum!"

I switched back to licking Mike's big nut sack, sucking one, then finally getting both his big balls into my mouth. Brad started jacking his cock again and then began smacking it against the side of my face as I worked Mike's nuts. He then put his cockhead right next to Mike's cock and said, "Suck us both, at the same time!"

I tried my best, but Mike's cock was so thick I couldn't get more than their heads into my mouth at the same time, so Brad pulled away to let his buddy have his turn at getting off, ordering me to play with his balls while he watched his buddy get his cock serviced.

Soon Mike pulled his cock out and started jacking. I went for Brad's cock with my mouth but Mike stopped me. "Stay right there! I'm not gonna make a mess on the floor when I have a cocksucker to use as a cum dumpster."

I remained kneeling in front of him as he pumped his cock faster and faster. "Oh, fuck! Here it comes! Get your mouth back on my cock and take every last drop down your faggot throat!" Mike groaned as he shoved my head toward his throbbing meat.

No sooner had I taken him in my mouth than he started squirting thick globs of cum down my throat. I swallowed every drop and squeezed out the rest with my hand and sucked it out.

Mike was barely done when Brad grabbed a fist full of my hair and shoved his cock back in my mouth and began ruthlessly fucking my face.

Mike recovered from his orgasm and began his verbal encouragement again, and continued jacking his hard cock even though he had just shot a huge load. "Yeah, feed that faggot what he wants, Brad!"

Before long I felt Brad's leg muscles tighten, followed by a moan, and then more cum began squirting into my mouth.

I guess I sucked all the cum out of them because both their cocks finally started to go soft for the first time since all of this had started.

Panting and sweating, both of them grabbed a beer from the cooler, sat back on the paint buckets, and gulped them down. I was thirsty too, but I preferred to savor the lingering flavor of their cum-loads on my taste buds on the way home, rather than quench my thirst right then. So, as they enjoyed their beers, I took my cock in my hand and began to jerk it off. 

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Mike questioned.

"What does it look like?" I chuckled.

"Don't get smart with me. Remember, you're nothing but a cocksucker to us. If you want to get off, you can do that when you get home, not here, in front of us. We don't wanna see that!"

"Oh, sorry, I understand," I said as I grabbed my bike shorts and pulled them back on, adjusting my hard, painful stiffy as best I could.

"Faggot!" Mike giggled as he looked at me in my shorts.

"Well, thanks for the beer… and the other drinks," I smiled and then headed towards the door as they laughed at my comment. When I got there, I stopped and turned. "I'm actually on vacation this week and was wondering if you would mind if I stopped by to see if you guys needed anything on your break tomorrow?"

Mike looked at Brad and said, "What do you think? Should we let this fuckin' homo have the pleasure of servicing us again?"

Brad was silent for a few seconds then said, "Show up at 7 am in work shorts and be ready to help us paint. Bring a cooler full of beer too! Mike and I will take breaks throughout the day, but you will be spending your break time on your knees, cocksucker!"

It was the best 'working' vacation I ever had!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Now that you've read this story, why not post a comment, give it a star rating and/or share it with others.




Share

Vote
vote for gay blogs at Best Male Blogs!

Follow

2 comments:

  1. Awesome story! Really enjoyed reading it, and was totally hard throughout!

    ReplyDelete