Naked Boy Cleaning Service

I lived the straight and narrow my entire life, but there was at least one hour a week where I did nothing but chase the thrill.

I had met Tom online one day when I was not just bored, but completely lost. The usual bullshit on these apps wasn't really cutting it for me, and I found myself straying from my typical desires. In some way, I suppose I was looking for myself - mid twenties professional, average body, nothing too crazy. Tom was a 52 year old gentleman who had no qualms about posting his preferences for a younger man, alongside a shirtless pic showing his sturdy, hairy frame. He looked strong, but safe, and I messaged him a simple "Hey man, looking good".

In due time, our pleasant conversation turned sexual. We exchanged our standard interests, and I sent him a shot of my cock. He returned the favour by sending me a picture of him laid out on a beach, completely naked and looking relaxed. For some reason, it struck me as - incredibly hot. He was clearly a man who was no stranger to the gym, but who's body had started to sag a little. The direct sunlight on him showed just how hairy he was, from his neck to his ankles. His uncut penis lay easily along his leg, looking about 8" or so from his nest of pubes to the tip. But more importantly I think, to me, was how comfortable he looked naked.

— Still there? — he messaged.

Despite never having been with an older guy, or even considered it before, I found myself drawn to this greying archetype. He sent me another picture of himself, this time seated in a club chair, wearing a white hotel robe that was open, exposing his long, limp cock. The angle of the shot was low, and gave Tom a lot of prominence. It brought out a craving in me to be down at his feet.

We texted back and forth, and before I closed the app, convincing myself that it was a one-off sexting session, Tom sent me a message would end up flipping my world.

— Come clean my condo naked —

Maybe it was the time of night, or the fact I had been touching myself during the conversation, but the weirdness of the concept actually turned me on. I could barely play through an idea of what would happen in my head before Tom sent me his location and asked if I was in or out.

Before I could second guess myself, I was in a cab hiding my hard on from the driver.

* * * * *

I showed up to Tom's condo, and was buzzed in by his concierge. I muttered his name, and the concierge simply responded with "Yes sir, he let me know you were coming,". I felt self conscious now, and strode to the elevator.

Walking down the dim hallway, I felt like I was marching to an uncertain fate, the patterns on the carpet seemed to be ominously guiding me to a simple, nondescript door. I knocked and waited.

"It's unlocked Nathan,"

I turned the handle and stepped inside. The door shut behind me as I found myself in a nicely lit den. I looked at the bookshelves and the laptop on a big oak desk, a persian carpet laid on the floor, some random antiquities were carefully strewn about. I removed my shoes, and stood silent and still. Tom turned a corner and walked towards me. He wore a navy sweater vest over a button down shirt, wearing beige pants and slippers. He was starting to feel a bit more grandfatherly than I had expected.

"There we are son," He reached out and shook my hand, beaming at me the entire time. "Thanks for coming Nathan, can I call you Nate? I nodded, looking up at his 6'5" height. "Great, well then - I was just going to pour out some beers, but how about you - uh, get started here first?"

He placed his hands on his hips and and looked down at me expectantly. A bit taken aback, I hadn't realized that we would start the games so soon after meeting. Looking him in the face, I could tell he was quite serious, and so I began to take my clothes off. I pulled my sweater and t-shirt off together, and dropped it to the ground. Tom took a seat in his office chair, and impatiently swivelled in place, waiting for me to continue. I toed off my shoes while unbuckling my belt - for some reason, I wanted to be naked as quickly as I could. Tom watched as I pushed my pants and underwear down, kicking them off and seeking his immediate approval. His eyes travelled the length of my body.

"you're like a pudgier version of David,"

I didn't realize who he was talking about at first, feeling somewhat insulted by being called a pudgier anything- but looking around his den I noticed the random classic statuary, and caught on that he was talking about Michaelangelo's famous sculpture. To be honest, Tom's assessment was probably kinder than need be. I had an average body, with a tiny belly starting. I often thought I looked decent, as if some proper gym time would turn me into a ripped stud. My penis, which was slightly on the small side naturally hung in a button-like recoiled state. In that sense, I probably did resemble the statue. In this moment though, I seemed to relish the attention.

"Come closer so I can get a better look,"

I stepped towards him, and he sat up in his chair, gesturing for me to get even closer. Soon I situated myself between is spread legs, close enough to feel his breath on my skin. My cock twitched in excitement.

"Put your hands on the top of your head,"

I did as I was told, and as he looked up into my eyes, he began to run his hand over my chest. His glance moved downwards, spying every last inch of my front, his hand travelled aimlessly, until he slid around my cock and grasped by ball sack.

"Turn around, bend over and spread your cheeks for me,"

Again, I did as I was told, reaching behind me and pulling my fleshly globes apart. I couldn't imagine what the view was like, or what it must have smelled like after a day of working a desk job. He must have liked it though, because his chair creaked, and I could feel his warm breath on my hole. His hand snaked between my legs, and started to tease my cock to an erection.

"Very nice boy, now how about you get to work, and start with your picking up your dirty clothes,"

I straightened up, and turned to nod at him silently. Scurrying over to the pile of clothes I had left on the floor, I leaned down to pick up my pants when I felt a strong hand on my shoulder pushing me down.

"When at all possible, you will clean on your knees, and crawl where you need to go,"

I gulped, and accepted my new position. Folding and stacking my clothes by the door, Tom gestured down the hall, and I slowly, and painfully crawled on my hands and knees to his kitchen. I had a strange pride in being objectified in such a fashion, and put a bit more of a wiggle in my ass as I moved about.

In the kitchen, he gave me a small brush and dustpan to sweep up, and I took my time collecting the dust and debris that had accumulated. When I was done, I emptied my pan into the trash and looked up, past the bulge in Tom's pants for approval. He nodded and directed me to stand.

Dishes were next. And I stood in front of the sink with a wash cloth and bottle of dish soap. Tom poured a beer, and watched me from behind, leaning against the dining table. I studiously cleaned the dishes, and would randomly feel the splash of hot water on my belly and cock. After setting the last bowl in the drying rack, I turned, and was once again directed to my knees. "Bathroom next,"

I crawled back through the hall and into the bathroom, Tom flicked on the light, and the sudden brightness jarred my senses. The cold tile felt hard on my knees, and I suspiciously eyed the toilet, expecting the worst. Surprisingly - the toilet looked to be spotless. I looked up at Tom with an inquisitive look, and he pushed past me to stand in front of the bowl.

"You know what, I think I actually cleaned up in here yesterday, but I think I've got something else you can look after,"

I sat back, with my butt on my heels and watched as Tom unzipped and pulled out his beautiful cock. He pulled at his foreskin, and started to piss. I was close enough to feel a brief splash - and was caught staring at the golden stream that arced into the bowl. I feared where this was going, but couldn't move or speak out. Tom finished and shook out the last few drops, before turning to me, his wet dick inches from my face.

"Clean this off for me would you,"

If I had a moment of hesitation, it didn't last long. I leaned in and took the full length of his cock into my throat. I could taste the tangy piss that had still wet his tip, and used my hand to help pull back his foreskin. The taste of dirty, sweaty skin, of cock filled my mouth, and I eagerly went to town. Pulling him out of my mouth, I looked up at his grinning face as I continued to jerk. Returning his steely member to my lips, I slurped and licked and nibbled down his shaft - his pubes scratched my cheeks, and caught in my teeth. Grabbing a fistful of my hair, Tom began to take control. I pulled his pants down so I could grab his ass with both hands and steer his thrusts, but instead he clasped his hands on both sides of my head and began face fucking me. I struggled to keep his length from triggering my gag reflex, and started breathing hard through my nose. After what seemed like a lifetime, he shot on an upstroke, filling my mouth with hot salty cum. I swallowed as much as I could, and began suckling him for more. Pulling out my my mouth, a gob fell to the floor, and anticipating his next request, I lowered my face to the tile, and licked up the last of his jizz.

The reality of what I had just done - the filthiness, the danger - began to sink in, and I started to feel guilty; not just for what I had gotten myself into, but for the hard on I now had. Erect from licking the cum off of a bathroom floor of a complete stranger I had just blown. I was lost in thought, and dizzied by the experience when Tom kneeled down to pick up my chin and close the distance between us.

"I'm going to need you to come back on Sunday for an hour, can I pencil you in?"