Dwight the Electrician

Author's Note: this story was written for the gay shoe fetishist.

***

Kevin opened the door and couldn't help but smile. The landlord had indeed called Liberty Electricians, who had dispatched Dwight, just as he had hoped.

"Hey, there!" Dwight's voice boomed in his standard jovial greeting. "Great to see you. What do we have this time?"

Kevin rolled his eyes as if in irritation with the aging carriage house, trying to contain his excitement that Dwight was actually here. "Ugh--an entire circuit of outlets in the back bedroom went out. Lamps, alarm clock...nothing works."

Dwight grinned and widened his eyes. "Uh-oh. No alarm clock? That's no good. Let's see what we can find. Kevin backed up and held the door wider as Dwight stepped inside. Kevin watched as his red plastic shoe covers crackled on the battered softwoods.

"Oh, you don't need those," Kevin said, waving off the booties.

Dwight looked down as his feet, lifting one of his covered boots tentatively. He looked up at Kevin with his usual good-natured smile. "Ah, it's fine. Standard procedure. We don't want to mess up anyone's home by tracking anything in." He started to glance down at notes on his clipboard. "Panel is in the downstairs coat closet, right?"

"Really," Kevin continued. "I insist. It makes me feel like my house is a biohazard site or something. Here--let me get those for you." His pulse quickened as he squatted next to Dwight's pressed black Dickies and hooked his index finger around the stretchy elastic band that bunched around his boot. "Here, lift your foot," Kevin commanded.

"Uh, okay..." Dwight complied with traces of confusion in his voice. "If you really want..." He lifted his left foot and Kevin whisked the crunchy red cover off, being sure to enjoy the feel of Dwight's boot as his fingertips brushed against them. Dwight was wearing the most stunning pair of Dewalt boots. Black with Kevlar covers that stretched over the toe box. Kevin sighed almost audibly and tried not to spend too much time taking in the black and yellow laces that switchbacked their way up under Dwight's pant leg.

"Other one," Kevin prompted. This time, Kevin was deliberately little clumsier in removing the cover, wanting to disturb the hems of the Dickies enough so that he could catch a glimpse of Dwight's socks. He caught his wrist on the fabric as he removed the bootie, and saw soft black ribbing stretching down Dwight's ankle behind the thickly padded boot collar. "Got it," he said triumphantly, standing and handing the two shapeless red covers to Dwight. He hoped his half hard cock wasn't visible in his baggy joggers.

Dwight briefly adjusted his cap in a slight nervous tick, then forced another winning smile as he took the covers from Kevin. "Great--thanks." He jammed them in the pocket of his coat. "So...the panel?"

"Right!" Kevin exclaimed, as if suddenly remembering the actual purpose of Dwight's visit. "Yep. It's in the closet." Kevin bounded over to the closet, feeling on the rush of just having interacted with Dwight's feet.

Dwight was gorgeous. He had sun bleached blond hair that was close cropped, and a very close shaven beard. His eyes were deep brown and round, like two constantly surprised pools of liquid chocolate. Even though he was shorter than Kevin, he was a well-proportioned, solidly built guy. Kevin had spent plenty of time fantasizing over him since the last time he had visited the run down little carriage house to replace some ancient light switches in the bathroom that were no longer making faithful connections.

Kevin shoved the coats on the rod to the side and held them back as Dwight grabbed a mini flashlight from one of his pants pockets and poked around in the panel. With Dwight's back turned and having the advantage of being in close quarters, Kevin had plenty of time to let his both his eyes and his mind wander over him. What was it like for Dwight to get ready in the morning? Did his wife press his work trousers for him? Was there a whole drawer of socks specially set aside for these boots? Did his cap hang by the back door? Or did he keep it on the seat of his truck?

"Everything looks fine in here. Let's take a look upstairs. Can you lead the way?" Dwight closed the panel door and turned, Kevin standing so close that the visor of his hat nearly brushed his hair.

"Sure thing. This way." Kevin lead him up the tiny, steep staircase that cut up the side of the carriage house. He could hear Dwight's boots creaking and clomping on the wood risers behind him. "Watch your head up here. These ceilings are low," Kevin advised, turning to watch Dwight finish the ascent.

Kevin's carriage house rental had two tiny bedrooms tucked under the eaves. You had to walk through the first--which he had converted into a home office--to get to the second. Dwight bent his head as they shuffled into the passage between two closets that connected the rooms. Dwight was in Kevin's bedroom! This in itself was a fantasy breathed into reality.

Dwight tipped his hat back on his head. "So this is the room where the outlets are giving you trouble?" he said, crouching next to the bed and inserting a tester into a wall socket. Kevin observed Dwight's fitted uniform jacket raise up above his belt and shirt as he bent to examine the receptacle. It was a black woven nylon belt, which Kevin found sexy for some reason. Dwight scuttled to the next outlet in the room, his boots creasing as he squatted again. "That one's dead, too," he murmured to himself as he got to his feet, the heavy soles of the Dewalts squeaking faintly on the floorboards. He faced Kevin. "I can't imagine there is more than on circuit feeding these receptacles up here. Not based on what the panel downstairs looked like. Have you had any problems in the other room?" Dwight indicated the office through which they had just passed.

Kevin shook his head. "No. And every outlet in there has something plugged into it. My computer, the modem...and it all is still working."

Dwight scratched his stubbly beard in thought, the sound of his fingernails raking across the coarse hairs making audible scrapes in the room. "So there's a break in the connection somewhere between the rooms." He glanced down in the corner at the small panel that gained access to the crawlspace behind one of the closets. "Can we get in there?" he asked, already crossing over to the little door.

"I think so..." Kevin offered as Dwight pushed the panel askew and pulled it from its frame. He knelt down and pointed his light into the dusty black void. Kevin could see his socks clearly now. They looked new. Thick and soft with deep furrows between the cabling, and that sheen of the yarn that only appears before they are damaged by laundry detergent.

"Bingo," Dwight said softly as he peered into the space. Dust motes swirled in the blue beam of the light. He turned back to Kevin. "Can you go down to the panel and try to find the upstairs breaker? I'll tell you when you've got it."

Kevin squeezed back down the stairs and into the coat closet. Only one breaker even had the word "bedroom" scrawled next to it, so he clunked it over.

"That's it!" came Dwight's muffled voice. When Kevin reentered his room, Dwight was squeezed halfway into the filthy crawlspace, his hat on the floor next to him. The toes of his boots were bent against the floor, his heels raised to the ceiling.

"You okay in there?" Kevin called into space in the access hole along Dwight's body.

"Yeah--" came the reply, damped by the insulation and dust in the confined space. "I just need a third hand is all," he chuckled.

"I can try to hold the light," Kevin offered, eager for a chance to be close to Dwight's body. Dwight twisted around and looked back over his shoulder.

"Really? That could be helpful, but you'll have to point the light right over my shoulder." Dwight already had a film of powdery dust in his light hair.

"No problem," Kevin hastily agreed, squeezing himself between Dwight and the knee wall that met with the sloping ceiling of the bedroom. Dwight passed the light back along his side. Kevin grasped it, noting it was warm from Dwight's hand. He aimed the light over Dwight's shoulder.

"How's that?" he called. God, he was right next to those boots. He could touch them if he wanted to.

"There's a bit of a shadow. Can you bring it in a little closer and point down?" came Dwight's voice.

Kevin smiled to himself. Closer? "Sure thing," he said out loud. He pushed closer against the access panel wall, his legs straddling Dwight's. Kevin's crotch was now resting on the heel of Dwight's right boot.

"That's much better," Dwight announced from the tiny space.

"Yes, it is!" Kevin agreed, allowing his erection to fully harden against the black leather heel of the boot.

"There a random wire splice in here. It should be in a junction box. Anyway the wire nut seems to have deteriorated," Dwight was explaining. "I'm sure that's the source of the problem." Kevin peered over Dwight's shoulder and watched him untwist a faded yellow plastic cap. The small wrenching motion of his wrist translated all the way through Dwight's precariously balanced body, his boot swaying slightly under Kevin's bulge, the gentle teasing sensation driving him wild. Kevin could begin to feel himself sweat and he glanced down.

"Are, are you going to put in a box?" Kevin asked, his voice quavering slightly under the probe of Dwight's boot.

"You know, I should? But your landlord is a piece of work. They won't want me doing anything extra. It's clearly been this way forever. I'm not going to mess around with anything here more than I have to. It's just not worth the hassle to me," he explained as he reached back into a pocket for a wire nut. He brought his leg forward slightly as he felt for the right compartment, then grasping a new nut with his hand, put his leg back, his heel jamming once again against Kevin's straining cock. The unexpected movement made Kevin gasp slightly. "Can you bring the light down a hair further?" Kevin gladly pressed closer against Dwight. "Thanks," came his response to the shifting beam of light.

Kevin could see the dark stain in his joggers starting to glisten as the fabric became saturated with his precum. Dwight began to twist the new wire nut in place, his heel once again bobbing with the movement of his hand. A small silvery liquid rope stretched between Kevin's pants and the boot.

"Now we're getting somewhere," Dwight murmured in the crawlspace.

"Uh-huh," Kevin absently agreed. The stimulation to the head of his penis was like a liquid fire spreading down his shaft and into his groin.

"Might as well replace the other nut while we're in here. Don't want that failing on us, too," came Dwight's chipper narration. Again, he reached into his pants pocket to extract a wire nut, again bringing his leg forward to meet his hand, and again pushing his foot back against Kevin's aching crotch. This time, Kevin's sticky joggers ended up hovering over Dwight's sock. He dipped his pelvis slightly and shuddered in titillation as a slippery kiss was left from his pants on the black cotton.

Holding the light as steady as possible with one hand, Kevin carefully eased the waistband on his joggers and boxers beneath his balls. His cock instantly drooled a thread of precum over collar of Dwight's boot, which slowly rolled onto his sock.

Dwight was twisting the second wirenut on, and as his ankles gently swayed, the dampened ribs of his sock brushed against Kevin's trembling penis. For the first time, Kevin began to think that he might actually cum. And Kevin wasn't sure it could happen without giving it all away. Dwight's sock was now starting to shine with Kevin's juices. The thought that they would reach his skin any moment was another electric thrill.

"That should do it," Dwight suddenly said. He turned and looked over his shoulder, and in spite of having his own flashlight shone directly in his eyes, saw Kevin's red boner resting his Achilles.

Kevin froze. Dwight's eyes flitted between his foot and Kevin's horrified face for a moment. Then he turned back, facing into the crawlspace.

Kevin felt Dwight's boot raise against his cock, then slowly move up and down as he lightly flexed his foot, the crease at his toes squeaking.

"What are you doing?" Kevin gasped, stunned at the sensation as the boot and Dwight's sock pushed him along closer to the point of no return.

"Just finishing up what we started here," came Dwight's matter of fact answer. "Gotta tie up all the loose ends. Otherwise you might not be fully satisfied."

Dwight bobbed his foot more rapidly with increasingly exaggerated movements. Kevin's wood began to slap wetly on the heel of the Dwight's boot, the outsole occasional catching his balls and pulling on them. Kevin cried out in pain-filled pleasure. "Oh my God," Kevin moaned, dropping the flashlight. It clattered to the floor. "I'm going to cum."

"I should hope so!" Dwight replied from the crawlspace.

Kevin tumbled into the waves of euphoria. With each crash, a new surge of semen hotly flew up Dwight's boot heel, his sock, and his pant leg. And still Dwight did not stop. He pulsed his foot extracting every last drop from Kevin's aching penis. When Kevin finally collapsed against the side of his bed, Dwight had the room to back out of the crawl space and stand. He brushed himself off, dust bunnies setting to the floor, and regarded Kevin with mild interest.

"Well. My work is wrapped up here, I think. We made quick work of that." He gracefully bent and snatched his hat and light from the floor and headed to the stairs, a few spots of sticky cum heel prints crossing the floorboards behind him. As Kevin pulled up his saturated pants, he heard the circuit breaker flick over, and his bedroom was bathed in the light of his bedside reading lamp. He stood up shakily, looking at his bedside clock flashing 12:00 in red digits. Through the dormer window, he could see Dwight walking toward his van.

Kevin raced down the stairs after him, pulling on a jacket to hide the stains on his pants from the prying eyes of neighbors. He jogged down the path to Dwight, who was sitting in the driver seat of his van, door open, his clipboard resting on his knee.

"Dwight--" Kevin said breathlessly, not sure of what there even was to say. He could see his white juices still clinging to the back of Dwight's pants and his boot as it rested on the rubber floor mat. "Can I get you something to...clean up with?" he offered clumsily. What were social protocols in this situation, anyway? Dwight continued to scribble on his clipboard.

"No," he said absently. "Leave it. Though you might need to clean up the floor inside." He looked up from his form. "That's why we like to wear shoe covers," he pointed out, his face expressionless. He tore the paper from his clipboard and handed it to Kevin, who took it, dumbstruck at Dwight's cool demeanor. "Give that to your landlord," he said, tucking the clipboard onto the seat next to him. He put his foot on the break petal and prepared to punch the ignition button of his van. Kevin looked up to see a blob of semi-coagulated semen drop onto the floor mat. Dwight turned to Kevin and said, as if having second thoughts, "maybe I should come back and put that junction box in sometime. You never know when a city inspector might be out." He pulled the van door shut and leaned out the open window, starting the engine. "How do you feel about white socks?" He winked, and pulled away, leaving Kevin at the curb staring after his taillights.