I'm not sure how to explain this without sounding pretentious, so please bear with me on this. I don’t date blue-collar guys. Maybe I should say that I no longer date blue-collar men. It’s not that they’re not decent people, because most of them are. It’s not the sex. They’re like most men; some of them are great in the sack and some of them are like a dead fish. News Alert: If you’re a bottom, you don’t just lie there like a corpse. I’ve had days when my hand has shown me more love and compassion.
As I said, this will sound pretentious, but I want a conversation. I don’t just want a guy who drinks beer and belches and tells me how great his team is doing (or worse, how poorly his team has been playing). I’m not looking for a nuclear physicist, just someone who has graduated high school, isn’t a felon, and can conjugate the common irregular English verbs. If you met your friends yesterday and you tell me “I seen them,” we are not compatible. It’s “I saw them” or “I have seen them.” I cannot spend the rest of my life being aurally assaulted.
My friends tell me to get a dog or a cat and a rechargeable dildo. In other words, I can control how I get fucked and have something to cuddle after. Just so you know, I don’t have many friends.
What I did have was car trouble. I took it to the dealer three times. Three times they worked on it and three times I got it back and it still sounded wrong and would intermittently lose power while driving. I was bitching about it at work, actually, it was more of a mild complaint, when Amy Summers said, “I shouldn’t do this to my brother in law, but I’m sure he can tell you whether it’s something that can be fixed. So I called and made an appointment for the very next day. Thank you, Amy.
I arrived the next day, a little early, with plans for an Uber to take me home. I was asked to wait by my car for Phillip, so that’s what I did. About five minutes later, a man in a jumpsuit came walking toward me. Athletic, handsome, sexy walk, piercing blue eyes in an outfit that showed bulges just where you want bulges to be on a man who’s about to take you to bed. I would have let him bend me over the car hood and take me using axle grease if he had wanted to. Even the toothpick in the corner of his mouth was sexy.
But, alas, he was only interested in the car. I told him what was wrong. He listened to the motor; he asked me questions about where and when before asking for the keys and telling me that he would call with his diagnosis. I held up my phone and made sure I had the number while quietly taking his photo.
When the Uber dropped me off at home, I ran to my apartment, found his photo on my phone, and jerked off. It was the best fucking sex I’d had in a long time. Why did he have to be an auto mechanic? I rinsed off in the shower, the vision of his face as he smiled and told me he would do his damnedest to solve my problem made me forgive him for his choice of words.
I sat down at my desk in the nude. Opening my laptop, I began working on my current project and going through my emails. I had difficulty concentrating but was able to get through the goals I had set for that day. I finished and logged off. I threw on some running shorts and a t-shirt and went to sit on my balcony. My thoughts went to what I would do for dinner. Should I walk to a local restaurant or should I order pizza? Maybe I should invite Phillip to dinner. I felt indecisive, but I knew I wanted to look at Phillip’s picture again. I went to retrieve my phone, and as I neared it, it rang.
It was Phillip; my heartbeat increased as I answered the phone. “Hello.”
“Eric? This is Phillip. I found the problem, and it was an easy fix. You just needed new plugs. I cannot believe no one picked up on that.”
“That’s why people call you Superman.”
“No one calls me that,” he replied.
“I do.”
“Hey, I’m pulling up outside your apartment right now,” he laughed.
I grabbed my wallet and went outside. The car was just pulling into the parking space as I walked up. Phillip got out of the car. He looked me over. “Fuck, boy, you are hot.” His face immediately went white. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.”
I stepped closer to him. “I’ve been thinking the same thing about you since I first saw you. How about going to dinner with me?”
“I’d love it, but I need a shower and a change of clothes.”
He was the epitome of a blue-collar worker. His clothes were dirty; his hands were dirty; he smelled of sweat and physical labor. I had to look away because some of that was making my dick hard.
“Maybe another time,” he suggested.
“No. You’re going to come in and shower. Get yourself cleaned up. I’ve got more than one pair of running shorts. I’ve even got some t-shirts still in their packages.”
Phillip moved closer to me. “Honestly, I don’t think I could go out to eat in running shorts. Everyone will see the hardon you’re giving me.”
My dick got harder.
“I’ll order a pizza; your erection can stay right here.” I grinned. I led him into the apartment and pointed him to the bathroom. He went inside, and I watched his ass as he did. I quickly ordered some pizza, took a breath, and went into the bathroom.
Phillip was in the shower. Fucking hell, he was so beautiful that I felt dizzy. Part of it could have been what was left of the blood in my brain rushing to my already firm cock. My dick was so hard, it honestly ached.
He lifted his arm to rinse his armpit, and I saw a dark tuft of hair flattened by the spray of the showerhead. I’ve never been one who found armpit hair attractive. In fact, I believe I actually preferred men with no pit hair or very little at least.
Phillip looked over to me, and our eyes locked. I shed my t-shirt and shorts. I was so hard, it was difficult to get the elastic over my dick. Phillip pushed the shower door open, and I stepped into the spray. His mouth attacked mine. I chewed on his lips; I fought his tongue with mine. The taste of his mouth drove me insane; I began humping his hip as my tongue moved down his jawline and eventually to his armpit. I swirled the dark hair with my tongue; I pushed deep into the cavity.
He moaned, “Fuck, that’s hot.” His hand moved behind my head, and he pulled my face into his pit before swinging to the side and kissing me hard and passionately.
I stepped back and caught my breath. My hand reached for his cock. “I want to suck you.”
“I’m too close. I won’t last. Shit but you are so fucking sexy.”
I dropped to my knees and began to suck him despite his weak refusal. The head of his cock had just a bit of foreskin around the edge. It jutted straight out from his body. I wrapped my lips over the head, pushing the foreskin back. The tip of my tongue moved against the piss slit causing Phillip to shudder and moan. My lips held tightly as my mouth moved down his shaft, and my tongue rubbed the underbelly of his cock. About five inches of his dick were in my mouth when he jerked and filled my mouth with his cum. His hands gripped my head, and he shoved the remaining two inches into me. The crown of his cock pushed into my throat.
“Awww fuck,” he shouted.
I continued to pull the last of his ejaculate into my mouth; then I released his cock. He slid down and sat on his buttocks; the shower spray continued. I moved forward onto my knees and kissed him.
“That wasn’t fair,” he laughed. “You’re just too fucking sexy for me to hold back.”
I pushed his bangs from his eyes. “I’ll give you another chance after we eat. I need to dry off before the pizza gets here.”
“Make sure your ass is clean. I want to have it for dessert.”
I stood and took the spray attachment and gave my ass a good sudsing and rinsing. “Meet with your approval?” I asked.
“You most certainly do,” he said with a smile.
I stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. I heard the doorbell ring. “Shit, he’s here already. Pizza’s here,” I shouted. I wrapped the towel around my waist. My dick was still hard, and I tented the towel. I couldn’t worry about that now. I hurried to the door and opened it.
The college kid who usually delivered my pizza, I ordered about once a week; it was my splurge day. He stood, staring at me. I’m sure I’m not the first man to open a door in a towel. “Whoa.”
Phillip moved beside me; his hair was still dripping. “Sorry kid, he’s my date tonight.”
My cheeks got hot. Phillip took the pizzas; I gave Owen, the delivery man, a ten dollar tip and closed the door. “He was cute,” said Phillip. “I was worried you might ask him to join us. I want you for myself.”
He did make me feel wanted and special. I pulled two paper plates out of the cupboard. “There’s a hamburger and another with sausage and mushroom.”
“How’d you know those were my favorites?” he asked.
“Well,” I joked, “my friends say I’m psychotic.”
“Crazy fucks are the best,” he said as he leaned in and kissed me hard. He took a slice of each and placed his plate on my small table. “What would you like to drink?”
“Hmm. Let’s see. I have water, orange juice, and root beer. I guess I’ll drink root beer. What about you?”
“No alcohol, huh? Well, I always say, who needs to drink when you got a hard dick and a cute ass to fuck.”
“You always say that, do you?” As I bent forward to get the root beer out of the fridge, my towel was pulled off, and I felt a wetness between my cheeks. Phillip began to rim me right there. It was the first time someone did it the way I’d read about. His tongue danced across my hole before teasing me by moving around the outer muscle. Then his tongue tried to force its way inside.
My dick tightened again as he pushed saliva into me. I closed the refrigerator door and held on to the handle. He was fucking me with his tongue and sending shivers up my spine. He stood and I felt the pressure of his dick against me. I took a deep breath, and his cock popped into my hole. I drew a quick breath. He held me still as he applied spit to his cock and then pushed himself inside me.
“Oh, fuck, that’s tight,” he exclaimed as he continued to inch himself all the way in.
I could tell I wanted to come just with the pressure and movement of his dick inside me. As he increased the frequency of his fuck, the pleasure intensified. I fought coming. I wanted to come at the same time he filled me. My head began to spin.
Phillip began to slam into me. “Fuck,” he said as each thrust reached bottom. I felt him seed me, and I sprayed my seed over the refrigerator door. He slapped my ass. “That’s the best ass I’ve ever had. I need to piss.”
I grabbed my towel and sat down on my sore ass. I began to think about what it would be like to have a boyfriend who fixed cars for a living and then came home to fuck me like that. I felt cum begin to leak from my ass. I needed to use the bathroom as well. I got up, holding in what he had given me, and moved to the bathroom door.
“Oh. Fuck. Shit. Where are my shoes?”
“Are you OK?” I asked as I opened the door. Phillip stood in his jumpsuit as he struggled to get his socks on.
“I fucking forgot about my daughter’s birthday party. I’m going to be fucking late. Sorry, but I’ve got to run. I really wanted you to fuck me. Maybe next time. Where are those fucking shoes?”
“By the front door.”
He tossed me my keys and looked down again at his phone. “Yeah, the Uber is almost here.” He picked up his shoes. “That was a great fuck.” He was out the door, his shoes in his hands.
I went to the bathroom and cleaned up before putting on fresh clothes. I cleaned the kitchen to remove all traces of him before warming two slices of pizza and watching an episode of “Bewitched.”
At least my car ran perfectly the next time I drove it.
