I live in an area where most people have landscapers. Someone to tend to their grass, their leaves, etc. I'm not one of these. I'd love to have the disposable income to toss away on something like that - but it's not how I choose to spend my money. I don't mind cutting the lawn.
As I walk the dog on the days these folks are out, I get to see quite a few of them. Some are really kind of hunky in that pseudo-porn kind of way. Many are Hispanic men. Some college. And then some middle-aged white guys.
Landscaping seems to be a transient employer. Workers come and go. Maybe for a season I'll see a few of the same guys, but generally, I don't. And generally, I'll look......you know......to look!
On a recent dog walk, making the loop, I saw one guy near his truck. Usually there are are crew of three, but I saw only him. Didn't mean they weren't working in the back yard, but it was just him.
I'd guess he was 50-ish. Hard to tell with the toughened skin he's seen in the sun and elements. Decent shape. Not a looker, but the landscapers in porn are figments.
He nodded. I nodded. He said something about the day and weather. Nothing sexual, but I got a vibe.
We all know that vibe. The wavelengths of cruising. Not the ones at a bar, bath or gay event - but one of every day life that ends up showing up on 'missed connections' : "we talked at this place....tell me what I was wearing....I think we had a moment".
Admittedly, I've placed a few of those. Only because the guy was so hot - at least in certain ways - that I thought I had nothing to lose.
Anyways, after I got back home, I was still intrigued, and still (always) horny. So I took another walk - this time without the dog.
Landscaper guy, saw me again and nodded. Said that I must live around here. I told him I did. I know I looked him up and down - and I think I was subtle, but who the fuck knows. He asked where I lived and I pointed to the end of the street.
"I can probably stop by in a little bit". I nodded and instead of pretending to finish my walk, turned around and went home, he watched to which driveway I entered.
15 minutes later, he walks up my drive and knocks on the door. There was no talk. Or almost none. I had on gym shorts with nothing underneath and a t-shirt. He was in dirty forest green work clothes.
The shirt never came off - his, that is. Mine did. So did my shorts. His pants unbuckled and unzipped. They dropped to just above his knees.
The cock was ok - nothing spectacular. Thick, but about 6". I went down to suck it but that lasted all of two minutes. He pulled me up by my armpits and bent me over my desk.
I saw where this was going - but so could Louis Braille.
He had no finesse in getting it in, but I shouldn't have been surprised. From the cruise, to the invite, to the showing up to the abbreviated blowjob, he was all about fucking - getting in and fucking!
I'd be lying if I said it went in easily. It could have, but he gave zero time from positioning to almost balls deep.
I say 'almost' because I said, "fuck, you're all in" and he correcting me by that last 1/2" shove. "NOW, it is."
I was still stinging from the penetration, and he just went to town.
I totally get that people think sex is a two way street - and sometimes it is. But sometimes it is just about the road rage driver who is trying to get somewhere, regardless of who the fuck is in his way.
I just happened to be in his way of his final destination: CUMMING.
The fuck only took a little over five minutes. He buried deep - even though he told, during the pounding, me he wanted to see the cum run out of my ass. There was no way that cum was seeing the light of day anytime soon.
True to form, there was no easing out either. He pulled out almost immediately after and by the time I straightened up and turned around, his pants were up and he was in the process of zipping up and resetting his buckle.
He told me to have a nice weekend and was out the door.
Who knows if I'll get that opportunity again.