My new pool boy.
The plumber's assistant was dressed a little too comfortably.
Those popular baggy silver shorts, are at least acceptable in this heat wave.
I didn't expect to get a full peek up the loose leg, of the assistant's manly meat display. His missing underwear, would've blocked that view.
So, when his two-way radio, broke the hip-string, and they slipped off, tumbling to the floor. His loaded hands, were unable to block the sudden frontal view of the young buck.
From the mid-driff football jersey, down to the silver shorts piled up around his ankles, there was no interruption.
The young, why are they shaving all that shit? Makes 'em look uncomfortably underage. Even when they're 22-23 like this dude. Give me a wooly mammoth any old day!
It took mere seconds for the guy to drop the tools, and yank up the shorts, that could now, fall again at any moment. Frankly, I'd kinda like a second showy look.
I won't lie and claim an uncut 9, or 10 inches, but, it was uncut, and significantly beyond average...say 7-1/2, to 8 inches.
I got him cornered a bit later, "Hey, do you know any buddies that do pool work?"
[I do my own cleaning and chemicals, but, I wanted to find out more about the uncut lean stud-pup.]
"I've done a little."
I purchased a couple of pool signs, online and they were there, well before the following weekend.
Would he show up?
---Saturday morning the knock was welcome.
In my luxury-robe, I escorted him to the side of the house, where I had a shady pergola, and patio table.
I seated him to do a casual interview, but was sure he saw the humorous, new "if distressed" sign.
It read, "Caution you may see nudity, beyond this point."
-So, I suggested, each visit to take a 5-10 minute swim, to see the comfort/water clarity/eye irritation, before each week's adjustments.
"Oh. Well, I didn't bring anything for that, ...you know how some people get, when you get in their pool, without invitation."
Seeing him again in his loose, baggy (probably still going commando,) shorts, and a T-shirt with the arms, and substantial loops of fabric beneath, cut off of it. No socks. I knew he could easily slip out of them.
"Yes, I can see that."
"How does $100/wk for 3 check-ins, sound?"
"Great."
"Well, today, I have already made the adjustments. But, you can come see, where the filter drain, the solar heater bypass, the test kit, and everything is located."
"Cool."
"You can run through the test...if you want."
Just then, we rounded the corner, the immaculate grass covering, surprised the fella expecting the usual, concrete field.
The 2nd sign, (from a vintage YMCA pool,) saying, "no textiles allowed in pool." Was strategically placed beside a coat rack, with two towels, and clothes hooks.
"You can dip your hand, if you don't want to try the pool, before we start." (I could still squat in the robe, doing a reveal for him over near the pump.)
"I thought I needed a suit," and before, I could explain away the sign, he was yanking his shirt over his head, and kicking off his vans.
Just as quickly, his silver-silky granny panties shucked to the grass, and he toe-kicked them up, grabbed and hung them onto a hook.
"I already swam this morning. Was having a cup of coffee, but now feel over dressed for that."
"Your wife won't see, will she?"
He suddenly did the Adam, hand over crotch.
"Widower." I lied.
"Live alone." the truth. I disrobed and hung it on a hook, next to his shirt and shorts.
[I do keep a couple of barely noticeable, motion-activated cameras, a high-rez still, and dash cam-type, trained on the pool area. But, until now, just for legal defense against intruders. I might review the footage/pics later, If I have to jack off.]
He nervously, stood there, his glorious meat on full display as he wrung his hands. "What first, got extra coffee?"
" 's a Keürig, so grab anything you see, that you feel like, ...I always do."
He wandered over and made the mug of coffee, apparently quite comfortable, with nudity, at least 'when appropriate.' Big difference from his embarrassing event last Monday.
"I was convinced, the way you blushed, when you shorts fell off, I thought you'd be more modest."
"Well, I was really shy about that, stuff. But, all week, the guys at work," he sipped, "...have been calling me, Long Dong, Hung Jury, Meat, and Gifted-boy! ...they keep yanking my pants down, around the office.
"I guess I just needed confirmation, y'know, it wasn't small."
"Well, I wasn't going say anything, but, there's no reason with that, for you to hide as a laborer."
He leaned against the corner of the house, gave his balls a quick flop-loose, and crossed his ankles.
Yep, it sure looked nice.
"Are you from around here?"
"No, Sir, Arkansas, just South of Branson, ...little place."
The stud's strong chest, v-back, and round butt, could barely compare to his trunk-like thighs and hockey-puck calves.
"I guess I could check the water," he stepped over, and knelt down, onto all fours.
(If his ass had been pointed my way, I would have presumed it was a come on!)
My still camera location problably just got a still of his open crack.
I walked over, and squatted beside him. My balls, free-swinging, for him to view.
I use a saltwater system, but not too, salty. With the water softener added, it leaves your skin soft.
He turned his head and looked my way, I noticed how long his quick glance downward lingered...
I just fell over, into the pool. "Come on in."
The water was just under bath-warm.
I looked up his way, and cloud only see his head, shoulders and swinging cock.
He slithered forward, into the water. Swam towards me, and emerged, about a foot in front of me.
The stirring water, and his proximity, meant our floating limp rods were the first to make physical contact. They banged back and forth a few times, making me aware, and erect.
"If we were horse-playing I'd yank down your trunks and toss them at the women lounging poolside."
The next time my erect cock, made contact, it was against a firm object.
I reached down, feeling a firm rod point blank aimed at my bellybutton.
"I'm glad I'm not the only guy to rod-up by that sword fight." I confessed.
"You did?" I felt a hand, slip onto my shaft, "You did!"
"You're a dirty old man!" He playfully taunted, while adding a few too many firm strokes.
He grabbed my hips, and lifted me onto the lip of the pool, "There now, let me look at that hard pecker."
I spread my knees apart, and he tugged and yanked on my nut sac. Then, slipped his mouth over the flippy-tip, and clenching his lips, he powered down the full length.
I was in ecstasy, as he pulled off, for air.
"Mark, at work, invited me to doink his wife, I was eating her out, feeling her tits, and then, felt him sucking my dick. We didn't need her." He confessed.
"I mean, if he just wanted to suck my dick, all he had to do was ask!" He admitted.
"I thought Tim was joking when he suggested, we jack-off during the lunch hour. I guess, I'll whip it out, and ask for a blow job, Tuesday."
He plunged his mouth back onto my stick, and vigorously lip-pumped my skin quite pleasurably. He fondled my balls with his calloused hands.
"Cum on, old man, cough up your gold." He vacu-pumped, with a renewed vigor.
I felt no pressure to perform, but, was merely trying to hold it back, to extend the pleasure.
I let out a sigh of relief, relaxed, and guzzle-dumped that strewy load into the warm mouth, and wagging tongue.
"Thank You," we both said, as we half collapsed with each other.
The head laying upon my stomach, "Yeah, Imma going to make Tim suck my dick. He's the guy that called me Long Dong."
"Lucky him," I watched as the clouds floated by.
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