Pinewood Builders

Over the next few days, surprisingly, there was no awkwardness between any of us. We fell back into our usual rhythms. I'd been assigned to help Mark-the bricky. I'd assumed that'd mean hauling the bricks and wheelbarrows of cement, and it did. But the older man also spent time talking me through the dos and don't of brick laying, getting me to have a go, giving me pointers as I went.

During breaks and lunches I found myself seeking out Wells and John. We were usually joined by at least one of the other workmen, but they were all good guys, up for a laugh. Despite the constant flirtation and sexual tension I felt around Wells and John, we managed to stay remarkably focused on our work. When I finally met Bob the Big-Boss he shook my hand telling me that all his guys had mentioned I was a grafter- which made me swell with pride.

...

The next day, I found myself back with Mark, the sun beating down as we continued to build up the walls of what would be the third reception room. The heat was oppressive, turning the air thick and heavy. Mark, never one for unnecessary chatter, grunted and peeled off his sweat-soaked t-shirt. I couldn't help but stare. I was beginning to notice things I'd never paid attention to before. His chest was broad, covered in silver hair that trailed down to his rounded stomach. His arms were thick from years spent on these sites and I saw how they flexed as he hefted the bricks into place.

As I mixed another batch of mortar, I found my gaze wandering to the other men on site. Big Dave, the electrician, was up on a ladder, his powerful thighs straining against his work trousers as he reached up to fix a light fitting. His son Eric, small and slim held the bottom of the ladder, staring down at his phone. Across the yard, I could see Wells laughing with John, his skin glistening with a sheen of sweat.

Even gruff old Pete, the plumber, had a certain appeal as he crouched to work on some pipes, his weathered hands working quickly. I shook my head, bemused by my new observations.

Mark's gruff voice snapped me back to attention. "Oi, lad! That mortar won't mix itself." I felt a flush creep up my neck, hoping he hadn't noticed my wandering eyes.

As the other builders pulled their vans away for the day, John held back arranging the back of his van for the third time, I sat with my legs raised on his dash when he opened my door, his blue eyes meet mine, "I've been thinking," he said, "I know it was an apology, but I really should have reciprocated the other day."

I slid my leg down from the dash and turned to face him as my mind caught up with what he was saying, "Well, I guess it would a be a bit rude not to." I teased. The site was empty and he was hidden from the view of the quiet road by the open door. He slowly pulled open my work shorts, I lifted my arse from the seat so he could pull them past my knees and over my work boots, until then fell onto the cab floor.

He grabbed my hardening dick, "No undies?"

I chucked, "No, never."

He wasted no time, engulfing me in his warm, wet mouth. He worked my shaft with precision. His tongue swirled around the head before he took me deeper, the scratchy stubble on his chin rubbing against my hairy thighs.

Not content with just my cock, John's eager mouth moved lower, lapping at my balls. "Mmm, you taste good." He sucked and licked enthusiastically, his hot breath and skilled tongue sending waves of pleasure through my body. The contrast between his rough exterior and the way he was worshiping me was such a turn on.

Suddenly, John pulled away, leaving me aching for more. He reached over my lap into the glove box, retrieving a small bottle of lube. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he pressed it into my hand. "Fuck me," he growled, his voice husky, he pulled off his trousers and underwear, kicking them aside."

The direct command was just like John but, I was struggling to compute what he had said, "You want me... to-"

He turned and braced himself against the van door, "Fuck me. I want your dick inside me."

My feet dropped to the floor behind him as I fumbled with the lube, my hands shook slightly as I worked the liquid up and down my dick, before rubbing some between his hairy cheeks as he pulled off his top.

I positioned myself behind him, I couldn't believe it - I was about to fuck my rugged, masculine sort of boss in broad daylight.

I pressed the head of my cock against John's hole, feeling him tense slightly at the initial contact and I slowly pushed forward. He let out a low groan as I eased inside, inch by inch, his breathing was ragged, "Fuck, that feels good," he grunted, his voice muffled as he leaned further into the van.

I started with gentle, shallow thrusts, the only sound besides our heavy breathing in the deserted site was the occasional slap as our balls knocked around. Gradually, I increased my pace, my hips finding a steady rhythm. He braced himself against the door frame as he pushed back to meet each of my thrusts.

I reached around him, grabbing his rock-hard cock and stroked him in time with my thrusts, with the other hand I threaded my fingers through his. I took in our dusty, worn hands from the days work and it turned me on even more.

As my confidence grew, so did my boldness. I picked up speed, slamming into John with increasing force. The slap of skin on skin mingled with our heavy breathing and grunts of pleasure. Sweat beaded on my brow, trickling down my face and neck.

We shifted positions slightly, John leant forward, causing my cock to pop free. As he reached back to hold his cheeks open I saw his hole. Hairy and stretched wide in a perfect circle. I sank straight back in causing him to let out a string of muffled curses.

Our work boots scuffed patterns on the dusty ground as we constantly readjusted our footing. The grit and dirt only added to it, I felt raw and masculine.

I was getting close, the pressure building in my core. "John, I'm close-" He twisted away from me so once again my dick popped free. He span and dropped to his knees in one fluid motion.

Before I could even process what was happening, he had my cock in his hand and was guiding it straight into his eager mouth. The realisation of what he was doing - taking me directly from his ass to his mouth- sent a jolt of electricity through my body.

"Holy fuck, John," I gasped, my eyes wide with shock and arousal. He looked up at me, his piercing blue eyes gleaming with mischief and lust. "That's so fucking hot," I moaned, gliding my fingers over his short hair. "You dirty bastard."

He hummed in response, and sucked harder as he bobbed his head. One of his hands gripped my hip, while the other worked furiously at his own cock.

"John, I'm gonna cum," I warned, my voice strained.

He pulled away slightly, "Do it. Cum in my mouth."

That was all it took. I exploded. John eagerly swallowed it all. Then his eyes squeezed shut, his face a mask of concentration and pleasure. Suddenly, he let out a guttural moan, and I watched in as he came.

Thick ropes of cum splattered across the dusty ground and over the toes of my left boot. His body shuddered with each shot, until he slumped forward, resting his forehead against my thigh.

Finally, John looked up at me, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Well," he said, his voice rough than normal, "I'd say that more than makes up for last time."

I laughed, "Yeah," I agreed, reaching down to help him to his feet. "I'd say it does."

"We should probably get dressed." He laughed and I looked down at us, he was wearing nothing but his boots and even more ridiculously I had my boots and a grubby t-shirt on, my cock hanging out beneath it.

John and I quickly pulled our clothes back on, chuckling at the absurdity of our situation. As we climbed into his van he started the engine and we pulled away from the site.

...

Inside my flat, I stripped off my dusty clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water soothe my aching muscles. The events of the day played on repeat in my mind as I scrubbed away the grime and sweat.

An hour later, freshly showered and lounging on my sofa in a pair of old joggers, my phone buzzed. It was Wells.

"Alright mate? Fancy a chill? Could use a beer after today's scorcher."

"Sure thing," I texted back. "Come round to mine. I've got a few cold ones in the fridge too."

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at my door. I opened it to find Wells grinning at me, his blonde hair still damp from a shower, wearing a tight white t-shirt and jeans that hugged his athletic frame.

"Alright, mate?" he said, stepping inside holding up a six-pack of beer.

"Cool, shove them in the fridge and grab two of mine."

We settled on the sofa, cracking open the beers. The conversation flowed easily as talked about work, laughing about Big Dave's near-miss with a faulty wire, and speculated about whether Mark the bricky would ever crack a smile.

As the evening wore on and the beer cans piled up, I found my inhibitions lowering and sharing, "You won't believed what happened after everyone left the site today..."

Wells leaned in, his eyes wide with curiosity. "Go on, mate. Spill it."

I took a long swig of beer, feeling the cool liquid slide down my throat. "Well," I started, my voice low, "John held back after everyone else had gone. He caught me by his van and... he asked me to fuck him."

Wells nearly choked on his beer. "No way! Serious?"

I nodded, feeling a flush creep up my neck as I recalled the moment. "Dead serious. He just came right out with it, bold as brass. 'Fuck me,' he said. Just like that."

"Bloody hell," Wells breathed, shaking his head in disbelief. "And did you?"

"Well, yeah." I admitted, "Can't turn down a friend can I?"

Wells let out a low whistle. "What was it like?"

I took another swig of beer, "It was... fun," I said, my words slurring, "His hole was so tight at first. Way tighter than a fanny. But when I pulled out, I could see it was stretched to the exact size of my dick, in a perfect circle."

Wells leaned in closer, his blue eyes bright with interest. "Fuck, that's hot," he murmured.

"That's not even the craziest part," I continued, the memory vivid in my mind. "When I was close to finishing, he suddenly spun around and dropped to his knees. Before I knew what was happening, he had my cock in his mouth."

His eyebrows shot up. "Wait, you mean-"

I nodded, feeling arousal as I recalled it, "Yeah, straight from his arse to his mouth. No hesitation. Just took me all the way down his throat."

"Jesus," Wells breathed, shifting slightly on the sofa. "I never would have guessed John was this kinky."

"Same. He seemed to fucking love it too. Like, this gruff, rugged guy loved a dick up his arse. It's started making me think-"

"Have you ever?" Wells interrupted.

I shook my head, "No, never even considered before. You?"

He flushed slightly, "Only a finger the other day."

I felt a surge of heat course through my body at Wells' admission and I found myself asking, "Did you like it?"

His cheeks flushed even deeper, but his eyes held mine. "It felt... different. Good different." he answered softly.

"Have you ever thought about... going even further?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Wells nodded slowly. "Yeah," he admitted. "I have, but only recently."

My heart was pounding in my chest. "Me too," I confessed.