Hard Hat Love Story

Hard Hat Love Story

Base: Running User-written Erotic Story
Re: Note:

The Adventure Begins! (Unknown)
Date: Thu, 27 Jun 1996 17:08:52 GMT
From: Unknown (ipogorelich)

When I went over to check on the progress of my new house I saw that the carpenter's van was there, but I didn't see anyone working. I got out of the car to take a look at the progress since the rain had let up a little. I didn't stop to think that the ground would be nothing but muck. Before I knew it I was up to my ankles in it, and my shoes felt like they were going to stick in the ground with each step. Just then, it started to really pour. I mean buckets! I was instantly drenched through to the skin and couldn't run because of the mud. I knew if I wasn't careful I'd slip. I was just at the van, beyond which was my car, when I lost my balance and went face first into the mud. I was covered. Little did I realise that I was being watched from the van the whole time, until I looked up to see the back door swinging open and a thick strong arm extend to offer assistance. I reached for it and before I knew it I had been pulled to my feet and was inside the van! I was a mess, and pretty embarrased, especially when I saw my rescuer. He was the most perfectly formed shape I'd ever seen, naked to the waist -- must have been trying to dry out I thought.

 "What a mess," he said.  "You ok?"  My embarrasment soon faded at his genuine attitude of friendliness.  He obviously didn't care that I was getting mud all over his van, and even him!  He was concerned about me.  "I'm fine, thanks."  I said.  "Sorry about the mess."

"Here, take off your clothes and you can use my towel to dry off," he said, immediately loosening my tie, unbuttoning my shirt and pulling it off my shoulders.  His hands were rough from his work and I could feel them brush along my neck and down my arms.  They were warm.

After he had tugged my sleaves over my hands, he began to wipe the mud from my face and hair. He used a little water from a squirt bottle to moisten the towel, and smiled. It was a broad and real smile, and even his steel blue eyes lit up, set off by his dark brown curly hair. His face was ruddy from the damp cold. I smiled back and said thanks. I was kneeling in the van and saw that his jeans were wet, and now as muddy as mine. I apologized again but he said not to worry because he'd brought an extra pair. "I know on these new houses if it rains there's mud everywhere. This is nothing new. Take off the rest of your clothes. You won't be going back to the office looking like that!" Again, without the slightest hesitation he reached behind me and started to unlace my shoes that I was kneeling on. I was a little hesitant because by this time I had a full erection and I didn't want him to think ... "Don't worry about me seein' your hard cock," he must have read my reluctance and seen the outline of my throbbing tool in my soaked jeans. "I've got one too, and I'm goin' to be takin' my pants off so no need to be shy." His words were spoken softly but I knew he was in control.

He pulled me in his arms and kissed me gently on the lips. He held me so tight I couldn't have resisted, and I didn't. He lay me gently down on a blanket and started to unbuckle my belt while he continued to kiss me - lips and cheek, then neck, working his way down to my nipples and further. He pulled my straining meat from my pants and wasted no time taking it all in his hot, wet mouth. His thick and meaty lips felt great around my shaft. He continued to pull my pants down, but had to stop sucking to pull my shoes off. Now it was my turn and I wasn't about to miss my chance.

I knew I wouldn't be able to force him back, but I didn't need to. He lay back willingly and I returned his steps one for one, until I reached into his muddy wet jeans. What I found was thick and hot -- bigger around than the grasp of my hand and easily 9 inches long. It seemed unreal in its size, but well proportioned to his muscular and defined thighs, arms, and chest. It felt huge in my mouth and I was concerned that he wouldn't like what I could give him. It soon became apparant that he did; almost immediately he unloaded a huge load of thick cum in my mouth. It tasted hot and salty, and I could feel it hit the back of my throat in a series of blasts. "Don't worry, there's plenty more where that came from," he said when he'd finished, and if the size of his nuts was any indication I knew he was right. I started licking them and he began to moan. He never lost his erection, but dripped occasionally. I was all too happy to lick up the drops as they appeared at the tip of his shaft, almost inserting my toungue in his enourmous slit.

My own hot cum was about to burst out of me. He must have sensed it because he lifted me into a tight 69 before I knew it. He really knew how to use his thick lips and hot wet toungue, just enought pressure and friction. I knew I wouldn't last, but he had me so turned on I knew I'd be coming a few more times that day so I didn't hold back. He drank me in like a man dying of thirst, taking my full length down his throat, even my balls, then swallowing hard with each spasm of my cock. When my veiny tool emerged from his mouth, he gave me that warm smile again, and I melted. I was ready for more and I could see he was getting ready to oblige.

He spat in his hand and started to moisten his manhood. His slick pre-cum was oozing and I knew he was going to feel great sliding up my ass despite his size. I knew once it was in me I'd be in heaven. I waited for my cue, and he pulled me toward him. I knew I'd be getting it face to face, with my legs up and my mouth with his, breathing his hot sweet air as he pumped me. His muscular torso felt great pressing on my own, and I could feel his tip pressing at my ass. He was gentle, using just enough force to start my muscles to relax, applying more and then less in a gentle rythm. We kissed, and I opened my mouth to feel his warm saliva flowing into me, and I let him breath for us. Before I knew it he was in me. It was surprisingly comfortable, and he never let up his gentle rythm of pressure as he probed deeper. When he reached the hilt he stopped and rested until I could get used to the feeling. I soon did and wanted more, even though I knew it would be impossible. I was filled up.

He began his rythmic pace again; breath, toungue, hands, and cock. His strokes were strong - short at first, each one growing in length until they equalled his nine inches. Slowly, legatto, the rythm continued, flowing like art from a master's brush - each stroke creating a beautiful work, but only for us. I had been right. I was in heaven.

The rythm never changed, but the force increased until he started pressing pre-cum from my own cock. He knew then he'd hit the limit, and just kept screwing in that slow steady pace while he continued to kiss and caress. There was never even a hint of pain, just the full pleasure of feeling him in me, and on me, tightly holding me against him. I was close to release for an hour, but he never let me cross that threshold and continued with his masterpiece. It had become an enourmous landscape of cliffs and pine trees, a furious white-capped shore and towering redwoods. Two powerful rivers converged at an enourmous waterfall and our passion was spent between each others sweat-soaked stomachs, collecting in little pools on our muscled abdomens as we lay beside each other. The sun began to shine despite the winds and rain outside, and a mist had enveloped us in the forest by the sea as we slept.

When I woke, he was kissing me and we were in bed. I must have been exhausted not to have awakened as he drove us to his house and carried me to his room. He'd even built a fire, and opened a bottle of St. Emilion. I tasted his crimson offering in the firelight (it was delicious), put on the robe he offered and walked down a long curved stair case of oak and walnut to an enourmous room. There was another fire in a free-standing stone fireplace that occupied the center of the space. The reflected glow from the rough plank floor was warm and beautiful. I couldn't speak. Beyond the fireplace was set a simple meal of salad and pasta. We sat, not across, but side by side, and he hugged me to him and kissed me once again as his benediction over our meal. We turned to each other as we talked and ate and drank, and he told me of his lonely life in this house. His name was Brad. "I've never been with a man before, though I've wanted to for as long as I can remember. You were my first," he said. I couldn't believe it, given his technique and seeming mastery of sex, but his sincerity was unmistakeable. He wasn't lying. In fact he'd never been with anyone. He was young, only 24, and had inherited this home from his father who had been a carpenter too. "My dad died only a few months back, in an accident. Mom left when I was a boy. We never heard from her. Dad and I used to do everything together, and I never got lonely much, 'till now. Living out here and not liking the city much, I never knew how to meet another guy for sex, and didn't even care. I just wanted to build, and I knew that some day, when the time was right, someone special would stumble into my life."

Into his life? I didn't know what to say. Sure I liked him, but I hadn't had time to even think about my clothes, my car, or eat my pasta. I definitely wasn't ready for this! He must have seen my shock. He put his head down. I felt terrible. I reached up and brushed his cheek. I'd never met a more intuitive man before. That must explain the great sex I thought. He looked up and smiled a bit. I had to kiss him. He kissed back and I thought maybe he was right. Maybe we would be together forever. Why should I fight the strongest attraction I'd ever felt in my life? Sex had been great that day, but I could feel something different starting this time. It was going to be love making. I had connected for the first time on an emotional level, and knew there was no going back. He held me by the fire and we made love. This time I was the virgin.

It's been ten years. I've felt him in me every single day at least once, and never let him out of my mind. I guess he was right. I'd stepped in a puddle, but had fallen in more than just mud. I'd fallen in love. Unlike the mud, though, love doesn't wash off so easily. The mud had pulled at my feet, but love pulls at the heart, and instead of wanting to run I don't want to move at all. I want to soak up the rain.

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