On the Roof

While I was thinking of Jake's package, Jake himself climbed back down the ladder and took a swig from a canteen he'd placed near a pile of roofing supplies. I called him over.

"You look hot and tired, Jake," I said. "Why don't you take a breather and do a few laps in the pool? That's sure to cool you off and relieve those aching muscles." And quite nice muscles too, I thought to myself.

"No swimming suit," he said, as he greedily eyed the pool.

"No problem," I said. "No one can see the pool, and it's not like we hadn't gotten acquainted yet."

"Yep," he responded, with a wink. "And a very nice acquaintance it was."

"So, go ahead and jump in," I said. "When you're cooled off, you can stretch out on the side of the pool over there, and maybe I'll massage some of those tight muscles for you. That should make the rest of the roofing go a lot faster."

Jake didn't need another invitation to do just that. He stripped off his pants, and I got the first good look at his basket. I marveled that I had been able to take that rod in. It didn't look so long tumescent, but I'd gotten some idea of the extraordinary length when engorged while he was doing me. What was so shocking, however, was how fat it was. The image of a sausage hanging in a meat store window proved to be quite apt. Beyond that, he had one of those solid, Latin figures that were thickish but could not be called fat. And the muscles that he worked with—in addition to his prick, of course, which I'm sure got a good workout—were bulgy and sharply defined. He probably could have held his own in a Mr. Universe contest.

Jake dove neatly into the pool, did a few laps, and then pulled himself up out of the pool with the strength of his arms at the three and a half-foot depth end and stretched out on the pavement on his belly. His arm dangled down into the water and he gave me a languid look that said he might just drift off to napping.

We couldn't have that, though—at least not yet. I stood, briskly strode to the side of the pool, dove in, and surfaced beside him. I then began to expertly massage his back, neck, arm, leg, butt muscles, which caused him to give little groans of appreciation. Yes, I now could see that I had been wrong to give all of my attention to the younger roofer when they had arrived. I slapped his butt.

"Turn over sport, and let me at some of those other muscles."

He turned over, as I directed, and I could see he had a half erection already—and that, indeed, he picked up considerable length when he was engorged. I started at his head, massaging his temples, scalp, and the muscles at the side of neck until he started to sigh with pleasure.

"See, I said," there are more ways than one to release tension."

"You do it your way, and I'll do it my way," he murmured with his eyes closed.

My hands went to his chest muscles and I began to knead those. Down his rib cage on both sides, and he flinched when I got to his waist.

"Oh, a little ticklish, are we?"

"Not that you'd noticed," was the quiet reply. I returned to working his chest with my left hand, but the right one went to his lower belly and fanned down to and partially through his pubic hair. His body tensed up, and his dick started to rise toward the vertical. I left his torso then and moved down to his feet. I rubbed his feet individually and popped the joints in each toe. Then, with both hand, I slowly worked my way up his legs. Near his upper thighs, I turned my hands inward and gently pressured his legs apart. He moved his legs easily, but his dick responded by standing up straight, and he lifted his head and looked down the length of his body, anticipating that the massage was about to become even more interesting.

That's when I produced my own version of the little tube of salve. I rubbed a big dab in my hands, and moved back to his torso, where I quickly and fully rubbed him down from neck to lower belly. His body was giving little shudders now whenever I ran across his nipples or went anywhere below his navel. Returning to his feet, I rubbed them down with the salve and then quickly worked my way back up his legs. I lifted his left leg and gave his thigh muscles a good rubbing. Putting that down, I lifted his right leg and repeated the process, moving from knee to the very top of his leg. But this time, rather than putting his leg down, I draped it over my left shoulder and held it there with my left hand, while my right hand, recharged with another big glop of salve went right in for the kill. I ran my fingers right into the rim of his asshole and deposited a large amount of salve there. Jake flinched and started to rise, but my well-salved hand went directly to and wrapped around his rod.

"No, just lay back," I said. "I think there are a couple of muscles down here that need some special attention."

Jake groaned, but he did as ordered, throwing one arm over his face and clutching at the side of the pool with the other one.

I wasn't the least bit coy. I changed hands and began to slowly, but aggressively beat his dick off in my well-greased left hand. I would pump it a good four or five times and then move to the head, pulling the foreskin completely off the glans, rimming the glans with salve-covered fingers and then going for the piss slit, forcing it open and rubbing as far into the slit as possible with a finger. Jake began to writhe slightly, to work his hips with my pumping motion, and to moan in ecstasy and murmur terms of pleasure and endearment. He twisted his torso and clutched at me with his right hand and managed alternately to get somewhere close to a nipple, a butt check, or my cock. I did not let that distract me, though. I made quite clear that the hand job was going to continue unabated until he played fountain for me. To help that along, my right hand now was working his balls and his asshole. I rimmed him several times with a forefinger and then fanned my hand up behind and around his balls, pushing them up and away from his body in the process, and lodged my thumb firmly at the entrance to his ass. Around and around the rim it went and then in all the way to the knuckle, pushing a big dab of salve in with it. Jake tensed and I responded by finding his prostate and firmly applying pressure.

"Gawd," he groaned. "No, no . . . oh, yes, yes."

I withdrew my hand and wrapped it around his balls and pulled them up and away his body and held them there.

"Oh, oh, oh," was his reply, as he pinched my nipple hard.

I dropped the balls and went into his asshole with my middle finger, once again finding the prostate. Jake twisted my nipple and brought his left foot up and bent his left leg out, giving greater opening for his ass. In went the index finger, followed not long after by a third finger. I pulled the three fingers apart, stretching his ass canal. His right hand fluttered down to my cock and he encased that and applied pressure. I answered by withdrawing my fingers and pushing in two knuckles and then three. I hadn't gotten to more of the fist when his rod erupted in three quite showy spasms.

That was my cue. His torso was contorted toward the right now, but I took the right leg that I had draped over my shoulder earlier and spun his body around so that his butt faced me and the pool. Grabbing both of his legs and pushing them up and out, I moved straight into his now-gaping asshole with my now-very-erect cock. Right up to the entrance and the head of my cock lodged just inside the rim.

"Yes, yes, now," Jake screamed to the heavens, as he threw his head back and grabbed his butt cheeks and pulled them outward. And I did just that. I plunged in one long slide right up to my root and began a mix of long and short thrusts and withdrawals, never quite exiting, but coming close and then plunging back in up to the root. I dropped Jake's left leg, which he thrust out toward the left, his heel digging into the lip of the pool. I withdrew half way and took my cock in my hand and rotated it around in his hole. Jake groaned and started to pant. I moved the head of my cock out until I could feel it against his prostate and, again, rotated it around to increase the friction. Jake moaned even louder. I took my hand away and gave him three deep thrusts, at the end of which I pulled out altogether. I ran my cock up behind his balls and gave him a few cock strokes up the underside of his rod, which had started to engorge once more. Back down to his hole and seven or eight more deep slides and nearly full withdrawals and then a couple of minutes of short, quick pumping action. Out into daylight the cock appeared again. I draped his right leg back over my shoulder, and now, both hands free, I slid my cock back under his and wrapped my right hand as best I could around both engorged rods and set my left hand to working on his balls again. His big right mitt joined my in encasing both our cocks, and his left hand went to behind my neck, as he raised his torso and homed in on my mouth with his. We engaged in two or three frenzied and very sloppy kisses, the last one being quite deep. With a sigh, Jake lowered his torso again and let loose of our cocks. I let my cock slide back down to and in the hole, where I went back to rhythmic pumping. Within minutes I had cum for the first time and he had cum for the second.

After shooting off, I just fell back into the pool, did the backstroke over to where the chaise lounge was, toweled myself off and stretched out on the chaise. Jake just laid there, legs in the pool, butt on the edge, torso back along the concrete and flag pole flopping in the breeze for some time before he, too, went into the pool, paddled over to where I was, toweled off with my towel, and stretched himself full length beside me on the chaise. Rather presumptuous for someone who had come here to do my roof, I thought, as I drifted off to sleep.

I awoke with the thought of wondering what the younger man had been doing all this time.

"Chas? Oh, he's probably up front with Doug," Jake answered with a yawn. He sat up on the side of the chaise and scratched his armpit nonchalantly. "Doug's our third man. He gets tense about this time of day himself."

"So, where would Chas and this Doug be releasing their tension about now," I asked, as I too sat up on the edge of the chaise.

"Probably out by the truck."

"So, let's go investigate," I said.

And, so we did. There in the shade at the side of the house sat a large dump truck, where someone had been busy dumping old shingles from the roof. As I came around the truck where it sided onto the house, I saw what Chas and Doug had been up to. The passenger side door of the truck was hanging open, and the bottoms of two hiker's boots were pointed at me. The right one was lodged up in the top corner of the door frame and the left one was resting on top of the door frame where the window had been rolled down. The left one was holding steady, but the right one was jerking back and forth across the doorframe. I recognized the boots right off—they were Chas's. But the big, brown, bare butt that was gyrating between the two boots obviously belonged to Doug. Chas was stretched across the front seat, his butt hanging out of the door, and a big, black man, with magnificent back and arm muscles and a bulbous butt was standing, one foot on the ground and the other foot on a running board for leverage and his two hands grabbing the top of the door frame for added leverage. Other than his big boots, the only thing on Doug that was encased in anything was whatever manhood he had stuffed in Chas's asshole and was pumping away with in a good, steady rhythm.

As we watched, Doug's drilling increased in rhythm until, letting out a grunt of satisfaction, his butt wriggled violently for a few seconds and then he was finished. He took his left foot off the running board and stood back on the ground, cupped his hands around Chas's knees, slid the blond farther up along the seat, and leaned over him, tonguing the blond from neck, down along his chest and belly and through his pubic hair. He briefly swallowed and sucked Chas's balls and ultimately went to tonguing, nipping, and swallowing Chas's long, thin rod. We could hear satisfied little mewing sounds coming from inside the cab.

Jake sauntered up behind Doug, slapped him on one big, round butt cheek, and said, "So this is what you two were doing off by yourselves. Hope you relieved that tension again. Seeing you going at it, though, just upped my own tension again, and our host here looks a little tense too. Would you mind?"

Doug just grunted and wiggled his butt. Jake reached into the cab, to Chas's tool belt, and came out with that little tube of salve. Taking a big dab into his big mitt, he unceremoniously began lathering between Doug's butt cheeks. He then placed the head of his gigantic rod against Doug's asshole and slowly inched it in until he was half engorged. Doug didn't flinch, but kept giving Chas's cock attention. Hunkering down and leaning back, with his hands holding Doug's butt cheeks where they connected with his waist, Jake turned to me and gave me a grin.

"So what are you waiting for, Action Man? There's plenty of room for two in this big black hole."

I wasn't quite sure how this was going to work, but I was game to try anything. As it turned out, it worked with no trouble at all.

"Up on the running board," was all Jake needed to say for me to come over, climb up on the running board with my left leg and then swing my right leg across Doug's back so that I was between Doug and Jake. Jake reared way back toward his heels, and, looking down, I could see that his dick had pulled to the bottom of an asshole that, indeed, showed room at the top for another entry. Taking my cock in my right hand, and holding onto the doorframe with the other one, I guided my cock to lie on top of Jake's telephone pole and then slid right on into Doug's ass. He gave a grunt, but seemed to manage us both without too much effort. The sensation of my cock sliding in along Jake's and down into Doug's channel was exquisite.

"Just stretch out across Doug's back and hold still and enjoy the ride," Jake whispered into my ear. "I'll do the pumping."

Once I was in Doug up to my root, I laid down along his back. I wrapped one hand around him until I was grasping a nipple and, with the other hand; I found the root of Chas's cock, which was still being serviced by Doug's mouth. I wrapped thumb and one finger around Chas's root and spread the other fingers up through his pubic hair toward his navel. I applied rhythmic pressure to the root of his cock and could feel it engorging even further under my attention.

Jake came back more upright behind Doug and began a slow pumping action, pulling two-thirds out of his hole and then a long slide in again to the root. I held place with mine, fully buried. I'm sure Doug enjoyed the friction inside his channel, but, for me, the friction along my own dick was more pleasurable than I'd ever experienced before. I could only hold still under these conditions for a short time. Involuntarily, I began a pumping action of my own, and I soon was able to coordinate my pumping with Jake's so that, as he slid in, I was sliding out. Doug evidently felt split now, because at first he reared up, as if to shake us out of him, but this narrowed his channel, which he couldn't afford to let happen, so, he grabbed the top of the door frame with both of his hands, moved his butt out further and sort of slouched his midsection. Chas wriggled out of the car door and crouched in front of Doug and took Doug's cock into his mouth. Doug began and rhythm of his own, face-fucking Chas in a pumping action that put his butt into countermotion with what Jake and I were doing at the back door. Our rhythm picked up speed and intensity, and I managed to time my release to nearly match Jake's, with Doug coming just a few seconds later.

Equally timed with our spoutings, the heavens above us opened up, and the rain came tumbling down. It was obvious that the roofers would have to be here on the job for at least one more day. For some reason, that didn't seem to bother me much.