A gay story: Roofer Calling His eyes were clear blue, like looking into the sky, inviting daydreams.
“I noticed your roof was showing wear,” he began.
“Jaime,” I said, holding out my hand.
Did he know what my name meant in French? “J’aime”, or “I love”. I let his eyes melt my heart, and relax my asshole. I knew the feeling well, had practiced it with my dildo enough times. I smiled, let the smile curl up and wrinkle my crow’s feet. Could he tell? That I was ready? Was willing?
He must have sensed something, because he didn’t say anything. He just searched my smiling eyes, and took my hand. But he didn’t shake it. Instead, he gave me a tender squeeze.
I felt the heat of my blush, the stiffening in my pants. I glanced down at his jeans, to where the zipper was hidden, and behind that…
My blush deepened as I realized he was still holding my hand. I looked up, hoped my eyes showed my excitement. I waited, fixed on his eyes, letting him know. He smiled. My heart jumped. I took a careful step back, gave him the tiniest tug.
The blood was pounding in my ears as I waited. He glanced over his shoulder, like he was worried, turned back to me. He took a step, followed as I led him inside. He reached behind, swung the door shut, pushing until the latch clicked.
I smiled, nervous, and filling with excitement. Still holding hands, I led him upstairs to the big double bed.
He looked around the room, saw the cosmetics on the dresser, gave me a questioning look.
“My wife’s out shopping,” I whispered.
“I don’t have much time,” he answered.
I understood. We both started undressing. I stopped, watched anxiously, as his fingers went to his waist. His hands looked strong, had felt callused, well used. I wondered what it might feel like, to have them inside me. He fiddled with his buckle until it gave way. Then, with one quick motion, he flipped open the button and pulled down the zipper. The sound was like electricity. I shivered, felt my back arch, my anus loosen. I was aching with need.
He bent over, he lowered his pants and briefs to his boots. He stopped, contemplated the many laces of his work boots, decided to leave them on. When he straightened back up, my eyes widened. His beautiful cock presented itself, tall, straight, hard. It sprang from a thick mat of black curls that spread to his inner thighs. I loved hairy men. The blood rushed to my head, making me dizzy.
“Turn,” he commanded, swirling a finger in the air.
His voice was music, a siren’s call, to a man who had never been loved by another man, but wanted it badly. I turned, facing the bed. Without any need for further encouragement, I undid my pants, pushed them down. My shoes and socks came off easily with my pants. I bent over, onto the bed, moved my feet apart, spreading my legs. Shaking, I reached back, grabbed my buttocks, and opened my butt crack. I pulled until I felt the cool air on my asshole.
I had spent years practicing, with a dildo, carefully shaving and purging every morning in the shower. Did it show? Did my asshole look inviting? I was nervous, worried I was trying too hard.
For what seemed a long time, there wasn’t a sound. My doubts were eating me alive.
Then I heard his belt scrape on the floor as he shuffled towards me. He tapped at my ankles with his steel-tipped boots. I spread my feet wider. “Open me as far as you want,” I thought. When his bare thighs met my buttocks, I arched my butt up, pushed back. He leaned forward, let his cock press over my butt crack, his pubes tickling my ass.
I heard him spit, realized he was going to breed me, leaving his seed. Was I okay with that? I didn’t say anything. Too late? He clearly wanted it that way, so I followed his lead, trusted him.
I felt his slippery head pressing, closed my eyes. His fingers replaced mine on my butt. His grip was stronger, surer, more insistent. More cool air told me he had opened me wider. Time for me to relax. I took a breath, exhaled, let the tension drain away. He felt it, my muscles soften in his grasp. He pushed in.
The sensation was so much better than my dildo! His soft, hot cock head, spreading my entrance, sliding in was alive, flesh. Then his ridge, as it passed, as it moved up into my ass. He tested, going in and out, his ridge playing at my entrance. It was heaven!
I hummed with pleasure. He spit again, pushed deep.
I gasped. He stopped.
“Nice ass,” he whispered, leaning forward, slowly sinking his full length inside.
His lips were at my ear.
“You feel so good…,” he whispered.
He sank deeper, pulled out a bit, then deeper, until I jumped when his hairy ball sack bumped into my bare balls.
God, I was so hard! I reached under, found my swollen cock, and squeezed just below the ridge, rubbing where I was most sensitive. I felt the muscles in my ass close onto his pole every time I rubbed my ridge. I loved the fullness, his thick hard cock buried in me. I squeezed my asshole shut as hard as I could.
“Fucking hot!” he said, exhaling with pleasure.
He pulled out, slowly, then slid back in. Each time he filled me, I clamped down on his pole. He stood up straight, grabbed my hips, fingers clamped over my bone. I was his to do as he pleased. I went limp as strong arms took over, pulling me closer to match his thrusts.
He was pumping harder, massaging my anus, rubbing at my prostrate. I was enjoying him in my ass, the feeling of his hardness rubbing at my opening. My own cock grew soft as I focused on his sliding in and out.
“Yes… yes…,” I hissed.
My pleasure excited him. He pumped faster, harder.
“Yes… yes…,” I chanted, matching the thrusts, and the growing sound of our slapping flesh.
He quickened. He was getting close. I let myself enjoy his cock pounding into me. His rapid thrusts felt so good. I pictured his cock, letting myself reach my own point of no return. My butt tightened. My prostrate got hard, and became so sensitive!
“Fuck! Yes!” he cried out.
And with a groan, he banged into me. His fingernails cut into my flesh.
“Ohng,” he gurgled.
“Nnng,” I grunted, spurting, shaking, as I clamped around his cock.
“Oh my god,” he huffed, pumping again, jerking as we both let loose another jet of cum.
We stopped moving. Any movement was too intense. I spurted again, and again. I think I felt him doing the same.
He exhaled hard, fell forward, caught himself with his hand on my back. My knees gave way, pushing me flat on the bed. His slippery, limp member plopped out of my ass. I lay there, glowing, unwilling, unable to move. He took a few deep breaths, then propped his hands on his knees. Another breath and he pushed himself to standing. I peeked back. He stood there, as if to let me enjoy the view of his hanging, dripping penis. I think he was staring at my pleasure hole. Too soon, he reached down, pulled up his pants. My heart was already feeling the pain of his departure as his beautiful hands zipped, buttoned, and belted.
“Gotta go,” he whispered.
And without waiting for an answer, he was gone. I listened as he clomped down the stairs, opened the front door, then closed it with a final click.
I lay there, wrapped my arms beneath me, comfy and satisfied. Still perched like a bitch in heat, I played with my asshole, squeezing it shut, relaxing it, feeling the way his rubbing had made me especially sensitive. I felt roughened, the whole length of my anus. It felt good, helped me remember, in case I thought it was all a dream.
I drifted off, closed my eyes, relaxed. Just as I was falling asleep, I woke up with a blob sliding out of my ass. I clamped, but this only forced enough out to begin a drip running down. I smiled, was happy, relaxed to let more cum dribble down, even pressed to push more, until the seed-filled fluid tickled over my balls.
I beamed. I was no longer a virgin.