Artwork (c) 2004 by Eduardo
Bob stirred groggily on his bed.
"Robert!" his wife's second calling of his full name was sharp and shrewish.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm awake!" he moaned and looked at the alarm clock. Shit! "Seven a.m.!" He groaned. "Why you waking me up at seven a.m.?"
"Job in the paper today!" his wife declared. She was an early riser. "New ad. New construction company, looking for workers! So haul your hairy ass out of that bed right now!" she declared. She was at the door now and looking in, he had kicked the sheet partially off by now and his bare butt was uppermost just now.
"What's the fucking hurry?" Bob asked.
"You know the job market is awful right now!" his wife chided him. "You've been out of work for three months now. It's July and if you don't get construction work now, you'll be out of work the entire season. You want me to call my uncle again?" she threatened.
"So get your ass up and get to that job before everyone else does!"
"Yeah, yeah!" Bob rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed, naked and muscular, bearing a vague resemblance to Rodin's "The Thinker" for a moment, save that Bob was unshaven and had hair all over his body, not just his head and chest, but on his arms, even the upper arms, and on his back, so that his entire body was that of pale brown skin strafed with dark-brown body hairs. His wife kept bitching at him to shave it off and he'd done so once or twice, his body had revenged itself for that by bringing the hair back in heavier than before. The wife had given up on his shaving for her, but she'd also begun to repulse his advances more often than not. Helluva life! Work his ass off all day and come home to a beer and television and into bed, only to have to make it with Ms. Rosy Palm instead of his wife. But damned if she didn't expect him to pay for everything anyhow!
Still, he did need work, the old bank account was running awful low. A construction worker made good money, but the work was sporadic, you learned to save and get while the getting was good and July was golden time. But it was a tough job market out there, and anything he could do to get an edge couldn't hurt.
So he rose, shaved, ate, and got to the place at fifteen minutes until nine o'clock. Small worksite, a residential home going to go up here, but right now, nothing but a trailer and a hell of a big, square hole in the ground. Nobody else there yet, which made sense when you realized the ad said to apply between ten o'clock and noon only. But his wife wanted him first in line and wouldn't shut up, he'd learned that long ago, so here he was, going to sit on his ass for the next hour and a half. He leaned back in the driver's seat of his pickup truck and kicked back, ready to nap for a while if he could.
He did fall into a partial slumber of sorts, and could have made it deeper except there came a rap on his door. Bob jerked his eyes open and looked over. A young man standing there, couldn't have been shaving more than a year or two. Oh, he wasn't a kid, maybe twenty, but he exuded that tender skin that is the sole property of the young. Black-haired, He was looking in at Bob like he had something to say.
So Bob rolled down his window. "Yeah?"
"You here for the job?" the man asked him.
"Yep." Bob settled for saying.
"I know that." Bob said patiently as he could. He didn't know this guy, except that he couldn't be the owner of the construction company that...."
"I'm Richard Brauner." the man introduced himself.
"Oh!" Bob had seen the name on the sign in front of the property. "Richard Brauner Construction." Hell, this WAS the owner of the construction company! He shoved a brawny arm out the window, a hand to be shaken, which was. "I'm Bob Strassen, looking for work."
"You're a half hour early." the man said and looked around. "Hell, come on in. We'll get this over with."
"Good with me."
Inside, there was a desk and a drafting table with architectural plans on it. Both were facing the wall, but there were two chairs and Richard took one and gestured Bob to the other. The interview went about like usual, though Bob was surprised no job application form was shoved at him. He explained his job experience and the work he could do (he was a general worker, he could mix and pour concrete, pound nails, cut boards, and so on) and everything seemed to be going well as could be.
Then Richard kicked back. "You know, Bob, this job isn't like the usual jobs. I'm looking for men that will stick with me, go on to other projects. I need someone who's going to form a partnership with me. And with that in mind, is that a relationship you'd be interested in?"
"I...I don't know." Bob admitted. "How much does this relationship of yours pay?"
"How does twenty-two fifty an hour sound to you?"
Bob blinked. That was half again the best pay he'd ever gotten to date. "That sounds good." he said, a smile breaking his poker face despite his best efforts. "Damned good." he said to try to get his composure restored.
"I hope you'll agree." Richard said, smiling himself and getting to his feet. "But since I don't know you and you don't know me, I need us to establish a bond of trust and cooperation. Are you willing to do that?" He went to the trailer's front door and locked it.
"Sure, sure!" Bob said. Damned, his heart was beating like a drum!
"Great, so let's get started." And Richard came back over and promptly got down on his knees, his hands reaching for Bob's belt buckle.
Bob jerked back, of course and the chair, which was on wheels, rolled back a foot or so. "What the hell?"
"What?" Richard wanted to know.
"What are you doing?"
"Establishing the bond." Richard told him like it was obvious. He waddled on his knees up to close in on Bob again.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Bob asked.
"If we're going to establish a bond," Richard stated like he was talking to a child, "then we need to get closer by some activity or other." His hands went back to Bob's belt buckle. This time, Bob didn't try to dodge away. He watched to see if this guy really was going to do what it looked like....
Yep, Richard caught hold of Bob's belt and unfastened the buckle. With it open, his Levi's top pants button was visible, with a zipper below that. Not an expensive pair of pants, after all, they went through too much hell to spend a lot of money on them.
So Richard was able to unfasten and unzip with only moderate trouble with the denim material itself.
"What are you going to do?" He asked.
"Suck your dick."
Bob watched as Richard began to pull his pants open and then he managed to say, "No."
"No." Bob went on. "I'm wanting a job, but I'm a married man. And I'm not into guys." He added for good measure.
Richard looked up. "Well, I won't insist." he said. "Thank you for your interest, but I'm afraid we can't use your services."
"Huh?" Bob suddenly realized that if he didn't let this young guy suck his cock, he wasn't getting the job! "Why not?"
"Look, you know the job market as well as I do." Richard went on, again as if talking to a child. "Plenty of good men out there, willing to cut you out of this. You're turning down a rare opportunity to get in on the ground floor of a new company. But it's your choice." He started to get up off the floor.
Bob saw his potential future assured vanishing away like morning mist when the sun gets busy on it. "Can...can I think about this some?" he asked hopefully. If he could play this out, maybe he could get the job without having the guy swinging on his cock.
But Richard shook his head. "I got to fill these positions now." he said. "Today. "This morning. We start work this afternoon pouring the foundation." He got to his feet again. "So what's it going to be?" He looked over Bob's head, to where a clock hung on the wall. "Nearly nine-thirty. If you're going to do this, it has to be now."
"Ah, hell!" Bob groaned. He needed this job, damn it! If he could earn enough money, hide the extra it brought in from his wife, he could get enough to buy himself some freedom! No more working for her uncle at his god-damned store for minimum wage on night shifts, no more listening to her bitching at him because he wanted to enjoy life rather than work his ass off! He could divorce her with this job! "All right then, damn it! You want a piece of this, then come get it!" And he reached down and grabbed his pants' waistband and shoved them along with his briefs down his hairy thighs. His cock was thus revealed, a good nine inches of thick man-beef partially buried in a thick pubic thatch. "Come get it." he said again, his hand straightened his still-flaccid pud.
Richard practically snuffled with eagerness as he waddled over like a lascivious penguin on his knees and then he had hold of Bob's cock and lifted the man-salami up and gobbled it down like he was the champion at a hot-dog-eating contest out to maintain his crown! His lips worked as he shoveled inside in sections, Bob's cock flopping up and down as it was swallowed. Over halfway down that nine-inch length, Richard stopped, his lips closed, and Bob's cock was suddenly bathed in saliva. Like Richard had turned on a fucking faucet or something. The warm fluid surrounded his prong and then Richard was pulled back up on Bob's prick, and as he moved, Bob's cock jerked and swelled and thickened and plumped.
"Mph! Shit!" Bob grunted as he slid down a bit to get more comfortable. "You're good, man, good!" He hadn't had his meat given a hummer since... God, had it really been seven years? His wife had always eschewed touching his hairy body, she called it gross and disgusting. But Richard was wallowing in his pubic hair, shoving his nose in among the hairs when he dove down, and each time he went down, a bit more of Bob's cock vanished inside that warm, wet maw.
"Mmmm, yeah!" Bob crooned as Richard massaged his love sausage. "Shit, man, yeah, suck it, suck that fat monster! Suck it good, God damn it!"
Richard had him at full mast down and he was driving his mouth up and down, Bob's shaft shining golden from the yellowish light overhead off the spit coating his dong.
"Ahhh, ah, shit!" He moaned. "Ahh, man, that's good, that's damned good!"
Richard's hands began playing with Bob's balls and those soft strokes were like the added stimulation his dick had been waiting for, pleasure began to pulse from his prick like a heart beating.
"Ahhh, God damn it, man, I'm coming, man, I'm coming!" He gasped. "I come like a sonuvabitch, man, I...ah, ah, gah, hah, uh, GAHHH-HUHHHH!"
Bob's warning had been genuine if incomplete, his spunk was thick and pasty in composition, his wife had choked and complained about it time and again, he couldn't please her by coming in her mouth, in her face, on her body or even on her sheets. But Richard clung even after Bob began squirting into his mouth, the thick wads sprayed into him and he swallowed them like so many oysters, thick, greasy, slimy and salty, and Bob pumped in more and now Richard had them on a conveyor belt down his throat and he gulped again and again and then Bob was expended, tired, panting, he sprawled his legs apart and slumped back against the chair's backrest, and moaned.
"Ahhh, shit, man, shit, you took it, you took the whole motherfucking load! Oh, man!" Bob groaned as Richard let go and stood up.
Richard said, "Good so far. Now let's take it to the next step."
"Uh?" Bob looked up blearily at Richard. "Next step?"
"Yeah. I did you. Now you get to do me." Richard was pulling at his pants.
"Huh? I never agreed to that!"
"You want the job or not?" Richard asked him.
Bob sighed. Shit, he was already in this deep, he might as well go all the fucking way. "All right, then." he said. "But I never sucked a cock before, so I ain't promising you nothing." He'd give the guy a few slurps, make a bad job of it without being too obvious about it, and get it over with, hopefully with no jizz in his throat.
But Richard shook his head. "We have to take it to the next level." He reminded Bob.
Richard's hand formed a gesture, index finger only extended and pointed down, he made a circular motion that said, "Turn around." And "around" would put Bob facing the desk. That added up to....
"Oh, no! Oh, no, hell no!" Bob protested.
Richard just tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow. "Do it or lose the job." was the unspoken part of this.
"I can't get fucked!" Bob objected. But he turned around and bent over the desk. His pants were already down. He didn't need to say anymore, he was in fuck position.
He looked over his shoulder to see Richard with some lubrication he was squirting onto his palm and then applying it to his prick. Bob was glad to see that, he didn't know nothing about ass-fucking but he knew it had to hurt like hell!
Richard's dick stuck itself at Bob's ass, the hairs on Bob's buttocks impeded him but not by much, and then the glans was touching Bob's anus. Bob grunted as it touched, and then when Richard pushed, Bob groaned. Shit, was this worth $22.50 per hour? And a chance at a job the rest of his life? Hell, yeah! "Ohhh, damn that hurts!" He groaned.
"Got to get it in."
"I know, but shit! Come on, get it in me, but take it easy!"
"Here it comes again." and Richard shoved into him again.
Bob howled. "Oh, OHHHHH! Damn, that hurts!"
"Got to get it in you, then it'll stop hurting."
"I know. Shove it in me, damn it! Shove it in! OH-OHHHHHH!" For Richard had plugged him again.
It wasn't that easy but Richard kept shoving at him and after some unknown, agonizing time,
that prick was shoved completely inside him. It still hurt like hell! "Oh, man, shit, God damn it!" Bob bitched. "It hurts, damn it! It hurts!"
"Let's try it like this." And Richard began to hump at Bob's ass. Bob howled again, but then he subsided. For it was hurting less. Not only was his body adjusting to it, but that sliding dong in his butt was touching something inside him that felt powerful damned good!
"Oh, ohh, ohhhh, shit, man, it still hurts, but damn!"
"You're liking it, huh?" Richard asked.
"Yeah, man, shit, yeah, come on, fuck me, man, fuck me harder. Oh, ahh, ahh, shit, man, shit!"
"Oh, man, yeah, hot hairy ass, I love a hot, hairy man-ass, shit, it's like fucking a bear, man, a fucking grizzly bear, oh, oh, yeah!"
"Come on, fuck my ass, man, fuck my ass!" Bob yelled back. His body was loving this cock in his ass, he didn't believe it, he didn't understand it, he just loved it for what it was! "Oh, oh, yeah, man, yeah!"
And there was the rattle of a lock being unlocked and the door of the trailer opened up, then an older man's voice yelped, "What the hell!"
"Oh, shit! Dad!" Richard bleated.
"Junior? What the hell is going on here!"
Bob looked around and saw an elder version of Richard. Junior? Oh, hell, he was getting fucked by the company owner, he was getting balled by the owner's son! He blushed bright, beet-red!
Richard pulled his cock out of Bob's ass and Bob ashamedly reached down to pull up his pants. Other men were behind the owner, the men who had lined up to wait to interview for the job. And they were looking in at Bob, pulling up his pants and at Richard, pulling his own pants together over a lubed-up dong he'd been sticking into Bob's ass! Hell, he KNEW these men!
Bob didn't try to explain, he just got himself fastened up and got the hell out of there! Shit! He'd needed that job, too!
He got home and his wife was literally waiting at the door as he walked in. "Well, how did it go?" she demanded.
He shook his head. "No way, honey! I got screwed." She wouldn't know how literal that was.
The wife was as unpleasant as he expected she'd be, but he didn't much care. Time for him to beg her to call her uncle to give him another job again. July was rough enough for a worker out of a job, most places had already hired everyone they needed. Unless someone got fired or dropped dead, they wouldn't hire any more people, either.
God, he'd have to move, and move far away. His buddies would talk about seeing him getting pronged up the butt and they'd make any job he got a living hell!
That night, he got a phone call. His wife took it and then said, "It's for you. He says it's about the job this morning."
Oh, God, now it started! Which buddy of his was calling up to make his life hell! Better talk to him, or the guy would call back and talk to his wife instead. So he took the phone. "Hello?"
"Yeah. Who is this?"
"It's Richard Brauner." the voice said.
"Junior or Senior?" Bob growled.
"Oh, hell!" Bob moaned. "What do you want? Haven't you fucked up my life enough already?"
"I'm calling about the job offer I made." was the surprising answer.
"What job offer?"
"Okay, not that job." Richard told him. "But I do have a job for you."
"What the hell is this?"
"My father runs a construction company. I run a different business. I buy up old houses or condominiums, fix them up then flip them. I need someone to help me fix up the places. You'd get a cut of the profits. Interested?"
Bob looked over at his wife. "He offering you a job?" she asked him.
"But you don't know what it is."
"I don't care. Take the fucking job!" his wife yelled.
Bob goggled (his wife didn't swear!). "I'm interested." he told the phone receiver. "Anything special I need to know about this job?"
"Well, the special bonding is of course still required."
"I figured that." Bob looked over at his wife. The one he couldn't touch without her yelling. "Fella, you got yourself a deal!"
"Great. Come by tomorrow morning and we'll take care of the...unfinished business." Richard told him, and gave him the address. See you then...partner."
"Partner?" Bob said. His wife beamed at him. "Right, partner. See you tomorrow."
"Tomorrow." Bob said and hung up. His wife nattered away but he ignored her. It was a hell of a tough job market out there. But for him at least, things were looking up!
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