Pinewood Builders

I walked into the apartment, the weight of the decision I'd made still pressing on me, god, she was going to be mad. Clara was sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone. "Hey," I began, my voice betraying my uncertainty. "I... I quit my job today."

Her fingers froze, and she looked up at me with a mix of disbelief and frustration. "Again, Oscar? Seriously?" Without another word, she got up and started packing her things.

As she packed, Clara's frustration spilled out. "You need to grow up, Oscar. No one likes their job, but they stick with it because that's life. You can't keep quitting every time things get tough," she said, her voice rising with each word.

I watched as she moved around, stuffing clothes and personal items into a suitcase. For a moment, I felt a pang of guilt. But as I stood there, I began to feel something else... relief.

As Clara zipped up her bag and headed for the door, I realised this was for the best, we just weren't right for each other. I needed something different, something that wouldn't make me feel so trapped.

I sat down at my computer and started scrolling through job listings, hoping for a sign. Then, an ad for temporary general labourer at a building site caught my eye. Without hesitating, I picked up my phone and dialled the number. Maybe, this would be the change I needed.

"Pinewood Builders. Bob here." a gruff voice answered.

"Hi, my name's Oscar. I saw your ad about temporary work on the building site. I'm interested," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Great to hear that, Oscar. What kind of experience do you have?" John asked.

"To be honest, I haven't worked on a building site before, but I'm willing to learn and not afraid of hard work," I admitted, hoping my enthusiasm would make up for my lack of experience.

Bob paused for a moment. "Well, we're a small company, and we all pitch in wherever needed. Our Current project is for a wealthy client building a new house on a large plot. I need someone who's happy to get stuck in, carry heavy materials and get along with the different tradesmen on site."

"I can do that," I said quickly. "I'm eager to get involved and learn as much as I can."

"Alright, Oscar. One more thing--do you have your own transport? The site is a bit out of the way," he asked.

I hesitated, then answered, "Actually, I don't drive, but I'm willing to figure out a way to get there."

"What's your address?" He asked, once I have it to him he replied, "Ah, perfect, That's fairly close to one of my guys-John. He can pick you up for a trial day and see how you get on. How does tomorrow sound?"

A wave of relief washed over me. "Tomorrow sounds perfect. Thank you so much, Bob."

"No problem. He'll get him to grab you up at 7. Be ready to work hard."

"I will be. Thanks again," I replied, feeling a sense of excitement and hope for the first time in a long while.

...

Fifteen minutes earlier then needed, I found myself pacing outside, the cool morning air did little to calm my nerves.

At precisely 7 am, a dark green van pulled up in front of my building. The words "Pinewood Builders" and a logo of a pine tree were emblazoned on the side. The driver's window rolled down, and a guy in his late thirties leaned out, a broad grin on his face.

"Oscar I assume? Hop in."

"Hey, John," I opened the passenger door and climbed inside, "Thanks for the lift man."

"All good mate. You ready?" he asked, as he pulled away from the curb.

"You bet," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "Happy I've been given the chance to try something new,."

John nodded, his eyes on the road. "I get that. We all gotta start somewhere. Just be ready work hard, and you'll do fine."

I settled into my seat, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation. As we drove

John seemed like a nice guy as we drove he told me a bit about the building site and some of the different tradesmen that'd Id be meeting. "Watch out for Wells. That ones a trouble maker." He laughed.

The journey wasn't too long, but like Bob had mentioned it was out of the way. We drove down a quite country road surrounded by trees before pulled into a dirt driveway and after a few seconds the shell of a huge house came into view, "Wow."

"I know right, how the other half live."

The house loomed before us, a shell of brick and stone. It was the size of four homes combined and taller too. The holes, still waiting for windows were huge and the steps up to what I assumed would be the front doo were beyond grand.

We parked near the site entrance, a simple metal gate leading into what seemed like a construction jungle. The sight of ladders scattered every which way, piles of sand and cement bags stacked neatly against one corner, the humming sound of machines. A few guys darted back and forth carrying tools or materials while others dug stuff out from their vans.

The first guy I met happened to be Wells. He had short blonde hair and ears that stuck. His smile was broad, like his body and his booming voice filled the silence as he introduced himself. "Oi! New blood!" he bellowed, as he shook my hand and patted me on the back, "Hopefully now you're here they'll leave me alone." He wore shorts, boots and his a high-vis vest.

I laughed in agreement, as I tried to hide my surprise at his boisterous greeting, John chuckled and said, "Ah, don't mind him. He's just trying to wind up the new guy. But to be fair he is the only general labourer, so he is glad to have the help."

I was paired with Wells for my first task, hauling bricks from the delivery pile to wherever they were needed on site. We loaded up deep wheelbarrows, pushing them across the uneven ground. After about an hour, I was already regretting every life choice that led me here.

"Jesus Christ," I wheezed, wiping sweat from my face. "Please tell me this gets easier." I was beginning to understand why Wells wasn't wearing top beneath his vest.

Wells grinned, leaning against the wall. "Mate, I've been doing this by myself for weeks. The others chip in when they can, but..." He shook his head. "Let's just say I was bloody glad to see your sorry face today."

As the morning dragged on and I met the rest of the crew, I quickly learned that construction site banter was its own special language. These guys would take the piss out of anything - politics, each other's love lives or looks. Nothing was off-limits, and their jokes would probably get them fired anywhere else. At first, I just stood there awkwardly, not sure whether to laugh or run. But soon enough, I found myself joining in, throwing back my own jabs between hauling loads of bricks. Somehow, it made the backbreaking work a bit more bearable. I had a nice chat with Dave a chubby middle aged electrician and his son Eric, who was quiet, short and pretty skinny.

Around two I sat back in the van with John as we ate our lunches, I was already feeling comfortable around the man and the conversation flowed pretty easily. I pulled my phone out my pocket and saw messages from Clara, 'You're a twenty three year old adult who acts twelve. You need to grow up.'

I huffed and without reading the others shove my phone back into my bag.

"Everything okay?" Asked John around his sandwich.

I rolled my eyes, "Just my girlfr-" I paused, "Ex girlfriend reminding me I'm a child."

"Don't let it get you down kiddo, you're young, live your life." I nodded noncommittedly and we continued eating, as he scrolled through his phone.

"I need to take a leak. Where's the bathroom?"

"I need to go too. Follow me."

He led me through the house and out to the edge of the site behind several trees. I looked around, puzzled. "Where?"

He laughed, gesturing towards the trees. "Out here! Nature's restroom." He then pulled down the waistband of his shorts and pulled out his dick.

I was caught by surprise and quickly glanced away, he laughed, "What, first time seeing one?"

I rolled my eyes, "Obviously not, just not used to seeing antiques close up."

"Cheeky little shit. I'm 43, not 70."

"Your sagging balls tell a different story." I shot back.

He glanced down, giving them a theatrical tug, "Just well-seasoned, kid. Yours'll catch up. Weren't you desperate for a piss?"

I could tell this was some sort of challenge and I wasn't about to chicken out. I dropped my shorts and got my dick out. John had me beat size-wise, but I didn't care.

We both relieved ourselves onto the ground - I faced straight ahead while John angled himself towards me, "You not got undies on?" he laugh.

I glanced over, "No. I hate them." I answered shaking off the last few drop and tucking myself back into my shorts. "Ready to get back to work, you old perv?" I joked with a grin on my face.

I woke up the next morning and every muscle in my body hurt, I was half tempted not to pack the job in, but I'd enjoyed my first day, the guys great and It's be a long time sine I laughed at work. I hauled myself out of bed and dragged myself to the shower and stepped out onto the pavement just as John pulled up outside. As I climbed in he laughed, "I bet you're sore as fuck right?"

I groaned, "I almost couldn't make it down the stairs."

He laughed pulling the van into the street, "It'll get easier."

"Everything settle down with your Ex?"

I nodded, "I guess. I'm relieved to be honest, it hasn't been working for a while."

"You should try guys Osc, far less dramatics."

"I'm alright thanks."

"I thought your generation was open to anything now?" He laughed.

"Not me." I quipped. My interest piqued I asked, "What about you then?"

"Sure. Don't care, as they're pretty."

"How progressive of you."

"Trust me though, guys give way better head. It's just facts."

I was taken a back by his brazenness, "Yeah? And how's that?"

"We've got the equipment manual, don't we? Know exactly how to work it." He replied with his eyes on the road.

My mind wandered, as I thought about whether that was true or not. I mean yeah some girls had been a bit shit in the past, but others had been great.

I felt myself blush deeply as he continued to drive with an air of nonchalance, "Well, either way... I'm doing okay with my hand for now." I said with a smirk.

...

The first week or so flew by in a blur of hard work, sore muscles and good-natured ribbing. Every morning, John picked me up and we'd chat about everything from last night's game to the latest gossip on site. Despite the age gap, we clicked easily, trading jokes and stories as we drove. As the week progressed, I couldn't help but notice John's frequent phone breaks. He'd step away from the group for a few moments, or message while we ate, a smirk playing on his lips as he typed away.

On site, Wells quickly became my partner in crime. We'd haul materials together, our banter echoing across the site. "Oi, Oscar! Bet you can't carry two of these cement bags at once!" he'd challenge, a mischievous glint in his eye. Never one to back down, I'd hoist the bags onto my shoulders, staggering under the weight as Wells laughed. "Not bad, for a scrawny git. But watch and learn." He'd then proceed to lift three bags, his muscles straining as he paraded around. I laughed, showing him my middle finger "Mate, I'm lean and mean. Just you wait, I'll be running circles around you in no time."

He flumped the bags onto the pile, "Thank fucks that's done. What's next." pulling on the bottom of his vest and wiping his face. "Where's John? he asked glancing around the site, "I bet he's on his phone. I think he's got a new lady friend, he's always texting."

"Or man friend." I said without thinking.

"What do you mean?"

I felt my stomach flip, "No-nothing. Just that he's into erm- both. is that not common knowledge? He told me early last week." I spluttered.

Wells shook his head, "No."

"Fuck."

"O, it's fine. I'm not gonna say anything. Either way he's texting someone... I'm sure of it." I instantly relaxed, confident that Wells wouldn't make a thing of it.

"Anyway, as it's Friday. You wanna go out for drinks tonight?" He asked.

"Sure, why not?" I replied with a grin. "First round's on me for putting up with my newbie ass all week."

Wells clapped me on the back. "That's the spirit, mate! I'll let the guys know. You live pretty close to the Red Lion right?" I nodded, "Sweet. Shall I'll drop by around 6 so we can have a few drinks beforehand?"

I agreed, just as John returned, pocketing his phone. He raised an eyebrow at us. "What are you two conspiring about?"

"Just planning to corrupt young Oscar here with a night at the pub," Wells said with a wink.

John chuckled. "Is that so? Well, count me in. Someone's got to keep you lot in line."

The rest of the day flew by, fuelled by anticipation for the evening ahead. As we wrapped up, John dropped me home, "See you in a few hours mate."

I rushed into my flat, excitement bubbling in my chest at the prospect of my first night out with the crew. Stripping off my sweaty work clothes, I hopped in the shower, letting the hot water soothe my aching muscles. As I lathered up, my mind wandered to John's comment about guys giving better head. I felt a twinge of curiosity, but quickly shook it off. I was just lonely and horny after the breakup, that's all.

Stepping out of the shower, I towelled off and then rifled through my wardrobe, pushing aside shirts and trousers in favour of a fitted black t-shirt and my best jeans. I wanted to look good, but not like I was trying too hard. After all, it was just the guys.

I was just finishing up, styling my hair into a carefully tousled look, when I heard a knock at the door. Grinning, I bounded over and swung it open to reveal Wells, a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

"Ready to get smashed, mate?" he asked, pushing past me into the apartment.

"You know it," I replied, stepping aside to let him in. "Make yourself at home."

He pole vaulted over the back my sofa, landing with a flump, as he glanced around the modest kitchen-lounge, "Nice place."

I stepped across the room and opened the fridge pulling out two beers, "Thanks mate, here," I said passing him a beer and sitting next to him, "Let's start with this."

He grabbed the remote and flicked through the channels until he landed on the football.

After finishing our beers, we moved on to the whiskey, it burned pleasantly as it slid down my throat, the warmth spreading through my chest. We cheered as our team scored, Wells nearly spilling his drink in his excitement. As the halftime whistle blew, he turned to me, a glint in his eye.

"So, Osc, what's your take on John's mystery texter?" He wiggled his eyebrows, "Reckon it's a bird or bloke?"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "It's definitely a bloke, or blokes." Wells leaned in, confusion across his face.

"Well, I saw him on that gay app..."

"What app?" he asked.

"That orange devil one."

He laughed, "Grindr? Dirty bastard!"

"That's the one."

"Fuck, I've got to see his profile." He replied pulling out his phone and opening the app store, "You think it's definitely this one?" He asked showing me the logo.

I nodded laughing.

Wells tapped the download button, his eyes alight with mischief. The app installed in seconds, and he quickly created an account. "Alright, let's see what Dirty John's up to," We both laughed, the whiskey going to our heads. As Wells typed in our location, a grid of profiles popped up. "Damn, some of these blokes are ripped," he muttered. I nodded in agreement, my eyes scanning the array of chiselled abs. Suddenly, Wells let out a low whistle. "Well, well, well, look who it is," he said, tilting the screen towards me. There, smiling up at us from the phone, was John.

He opened John's profile and started reading, barely containing his laughter, "43 Year old builder, looking for a hard worker who knows his way around a tool belt." We both doubled over laughing before Wells added, "It also says It says he's Bi and vers- what's that mean?" I shrugged. "I'll google it later. But first... Wells said, grinning as he typed. "How about: 'Bet you're handy with power tools. Fancy giving me a private demonstration?'"

"Fucking hell, send it," I gasped between laughs, my sides hurting. "This is mental."

He hit send, and within seconds the phone buzzed. We huddled closer, both half-drunk and giggling like schoolkids as we read: "Hope you're ready for some heavy drilling, sweetheart."

"Ask him about his equipment specs," I snorted. Wells typed quickly, and the response came almost immediately.

"Over 8 inches of prime British meat. Think you're up to the job?"

Wells and I burst out laughing, but there was something weirdly thrilling about the whole thing.

We stumbled out of my apartment, still chuckling about our escapade on the app. The cool evening air hit us as we made our way down the street towards the pub. Wells threw his arm around my shoulders, nearly toppling us both as he loudly recounted John's messages.

"Over eight inches, mate! Can you believe it?" he guffawed, drawing curious glances from passers-by.

I shushed him, laughing "Keep it down, you prat! The whole neighbourhood doesn't need to know."

We arrived at the pub, which was fairly busy. The rest of the crew was there, gathered around a large table in the corner. John waved us over, a pint already in hand.

"About time, lads!" he called out. "Thought you might've gotten lost on the way."

Wells and I exchanged a quick glance, biting back grins as we joined the group. The night flew by in a haze of beer, laughter, and increasingly outrageous work stories. Dave, the electrician, had us in stitches with a tale from his recent disastrous date. Even his quiet son Eric loosened up after a few drinks, laughing at his Dads expense.

John- like always kept checking his phone throughout the night.. Wells and I would catch each other's eye every time, barely containing our laughter.

As the night wore on and the drinks kept flowing, Wells nudged me. "Gotta take a leak," he slurred slightly. "Come on, I need a spotter."

We made our way through the pub and into the mens'. We stood at the urinals, we pissed side-by-side as Wells pulled out his phone and held it between us.

"Let's see if old John's still online," he grinned, opening the Grindr app.

Sure enough, John's profile popped up, his status showing as "Active now".

"Cheeky bastard."

"Fuck me, he's asking to meet tonight. How do I say no?"

"Just put him off and say tomorrow."

Wells typed out the message, we zipped up and washed our hands, giggling like schoolboys as we waited for a response. Just as we were about to leave the bathroom, Wells' phone buzzed.

Wells and I staggered back into mine from the bar. "Fuck Osc, John's sent a picture." He clicked on the screen, "Fuck he wasn't lying." He slurred.

"Where?" I took the phone from his hand my eyes widening, "Shit." the phone pinged, "Fuck. He's asked for one back!"

Wells threw himself onto my bed and pulled his soft dick over his waistband.

"Wells!" I shouted in surprise.

"We gotta play along now Osc." he said giving his flaccid dick a shake trying to wake it.

"Not on my bed!"

Wells continued stroking himself, his cock slowly hardening under his touch. "Come on, Osc," he slurred, "We've gotta send something back or he'll get suspicious."

I hesitated for a moment, but the alcohol and the thrill of our little game overrode my better judgment. "Fine, but make it quick," I said, grabbing his phone to snap the picture.

Wells grinned, giving his cock a few more strokes before posing. I zoomed in, capturing his shaft and the hint of his abs above. Without thinking too much, I hit send.

We waited, breathless with anticipation and barely contained laughter. The phone pinged almost immediately.

"He's sent another!" Wells exclaimed, opening the message. The image loaded, revealing John's impressive cock, hard and veiny, his hand wrapped around the base. The message below read: "Nice dick. Bet you'd like to feel this drilling deep inside you, wouldn't you?"