Hard Hats

by Neil Plakcy

  “Careful, don’t let the inspector catch you,” Owen said right before Mitchell claimed his mouth.

  And oh, what a wild kiss it was, full of tongues and teeth and need. Mitchell couldn’t get enough. It was the culmination of his lonely fantasies, only with a twist: his fantasy man’s hand on his crotch, a hard cock pressed against his ass, a light breeze lifting his hair, all out in the open for the world to see. If anyone was still left in his office building at this time on a Friday night, they could see it all. What would they think of quiet, reserved, number-cruncher Mitchell now? The man with the window office who never even talked about the few times he did date.

  Owen started to pump his hips against Mitchell, and it was all too much. Mitchell didn’t care what anyone thought. He turned around in Owen’s grasp and grabbed for his crotch.

  “That’s more like it,” Owen managed to say in between wet, open-mouthed kisses.

  Mitchell squeezed Owen’s ample cock through his trousers, then he dove for the zipper. The kiss continued, wet and wild and all consuming. Just about the time Mitchell got his hand on Owen, he realized Owen had managed to open his trousers, too.

  Owen yanked Mitchell closer with one hand. The other hand closed around both their cocks, and then Owen thrust up.

  Fuck.

  Mitchell had to breathe in through his nose slowly to keep himself under any kind of control.

  Owen kept pumping the two of them together through his hand. His pupils were dilated, and he wasn’t breathing too steadily himself. “This is so fucking hot,” he said as he grabbed Mitchell by the back of his neck and pressed their foreheads together. “What else will you let me do to you? Out here in the open.”

  A shudder ran through Mitchell. What else? Oh, God…at this point he felt so good, he’d probably agree to anything. “What’d you have in mind?”

  Owen spread his hand out to cradle the back of Mitchell’s skull. “I want to fuck you,” he said. “I have what we need. It’ll be safe, I promise you.”

  Safe? Out here where anyone could watch? But God, Mitchell did want it. He hadn’t been fucked in a long time, and nothing like this had ever happened to him.

  “We have to…in there somewhere.” Mitchell tried to nod his head toward the interior of the building where the setting sun created deep shadows. “Can we…?”

  “God, yes.” Owen seized his mouth again, and Mitchell let him. He opened wide, closed his eyes, and let Owen take as much as he wanted. Owen started walking him backward. Mitchell kept his eyes closed. For this one wild ride, Owen was in charge, and that only added to the thrill.

  Mitchell read the change in the light on the inside of his closed eyelids as they walked farther away from the unfinished edge of the building. He felt the solidness of a wall behind his back, then the cold drywall on his naked ass when Owen shoved his trousers and underwear down around his ankles.

  “I’m going to turn you around,” Owen said. He kissed Mitchell again, then let both their cocks go.

  Mitchell turned toward the bare drywall, shifted forward so his weight was on his arms, spread his legs as far as his trousers would allow. He felt exposed, lonely and on display without Owen’s hands on him, but the feeling didn’t last for long. He heard Owen fumbling with his own clothes, the rustle and rattle of belt and trousers being pushed down, and then Owen was pressed up against Mitchell’s back, as naked from the waist down as Mitchell was. His cock fit into the cleft of Mitchell’s ass.

  “It’s been a while for me.” Mitchell made the admission with his eyes closed once again. He wanted to be fucked, but he wanted to be able to sit down afterward.

  Owen’s fist wrapped around Mitchell’s cock, which had wilted a little while Mitchell waited, but it came back to life fast enough once Owen started pumping.

  “I’ll make it good for you,” Owen said.

  He was true to his word. He was careful with the first slick penetration of his finger. Owen worked Mitchell’s cock and ass until Mitchell’s entire groin was on fire. Mitchell had long since forgotten he wasn’t in his own bedroom, safely surrounded by four walls, a curtained window, and a closed door. He moaned and grunted and thrust back against Owen’s fingers and forward into Owen’s hand with no heed for where he was.

  All too soon Owen leaned forward to whisper in Mitchell’s ear. “You ready?”

  Mitchell nodded. Then there was that moment when Owen’s hands moved away to deal with the condom, and Mitchell felt all alone again. But this time he had no doubts, only a burning need and an impatience with the necessities fucking a stranger required. Mitchell wanted to hurry Owen, wanted to feel the cock that had been resting on him, in him.

  And then the wait was over.

  With a grunt and a push, Owen filled him. More than filled him. Mitchell squeezed his eyes shut tight and willed himself to relax. He concentrated on the dusty, chalky smell of the drywall beneath his hands, the smell of Owen’s sweat and the beer still on both their breaths. He heard traffic from the street below and wondered if all his buddies had left the bar yet. Would they wonder where he went? Unless they saw him, they’d never believe this. Was he out here like this, with a stranger’s cock up his ass, because he wanted someone to see him? Was he fed up with being safe, quiet Mitchell? Had he been a closet exhibitionist all along?

  Mitchell chuckled as the pain went away, leaving only the incredible feeling of Owen inside him.

  Owen thrust in a little harder. “Should I be worried that you’re laughing?” he said.

  “God, no.” Mitchell shifted so that he could push back to meet Owen’s thrusts. “I just suddenly realized how much I’m actually enjoying this. Not just what you’ve been doing,” he added quickly, in case Owen might misinterpret things. “But where we’re doing it.”

  “Mmm.” Owen moved a little more, shallow thrusts like he was warming up. “Told you you’d like it. And we’re just getting started.”

  It didn’t take long before Owen was pumping hard and fast, ripping grunts and moans from both of them. Mitchell tried fisting his own cock for a while but gave up when it became apparent he’d need both arms to keep himself from being driven face-first into the drywall. He wasn’t sure he could come just by being fucked. He needn’t have worried. When Owen’s thrusts became erratic and Mitchell thought Owen was close to coming, Owen reached around and pulled on Mitchell’s cock, and then Mitchell did come, spurting over Owen’s hand and the drywall and very nearly losing his balance when his knees threatened to give way.

  Owen gave two more hard thrusts, then his body jerked and he gasped, and Mitchell knew he’d come, too.

  They didn’t say anything as they both stood there recovering. Owen pulled out, and Mitchell heard the snap of the condom as Owen tied it off. His ass felt sore but he was fairly sure he’d still be able to sit. What he wasn’t sure about was what happened now. He wasn’t all that experienced with random hookups.

  “I don’t know about you,” Owen said, “but I’m still hungry.” He kissed the back of Mitchell’s neck. “We’ve got a working restroom on the third floor. What say we go clean up a little, then we find a proper restaurant for dinner?”

  “We?” Mitchell turned around and slumped against the wall. His legs still didn’t feel all that steady. “You asking me out on a date?”

  Owen finished wiping his hands on a piece of paper towel he’d pulled from a nearby cart. “Well, yeah.” He smiled, and amazingly, the smile looked a little on the shy side. “I’ve been wanting to go out on a date with you for weeks, ever since I first saw you. And more than just to get in your pants. I was hoping you…” He made a vague gesture and glanced away. “Well, that you might want to date me, too.” The last bit was said in a rush, like he wasn’t sure how Mitchell would respond.

  “You want to date me.” Even with everything that had just happened, Mitchell was having a hard time wrapping his mind around the fact that he was apparently his fantasy man’s fantasy.

  Owen looked back at him. His eyes were brow
n, Mitchell realized. Brown and warm, kind and understanding, and right now, a little on the unsure side.

  “Yeah,” Owen said.

  Mitchell smiled. “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Yes.”

  Owen broke into a huge grin, just like the ones Mitchell was used to seeing from his office window. “Outstanding.”

  “You just have to promise me one thing,” Mitchell said as he tucked himself away and zipped up his pants.

  Owen stopped in the middle of buckling his own belt. “What?”

  Mitchell leaned forward to give Owen a quick kiss on the lips. “If we’re going to make a habit out of fucking in public, give me a little warning, okay?”

  Owen laughed. “Deal.” He finished arranging his clothes and retrieved Mitchell’s hard hat. “I think I’ve created a monster,” he said as he handed Mitchell the hat.

  Created one? No, maybe just let one out of the bottle, like a genie. Personally, Mitchell thought he’d found his own genie, one with warm eyes, a contagious smile, and an amazing cock. And really, what fantasy could be better than that?

  HAZARD PAYOFF

  Landon Dixon

  I tipped the paving stone-loaded dolly back and walked it ahead a few feet. Then I hit a rock on the half-completed driveway and the bricks shifted, pulling me and the dolly forward. I struggled to keep the stack upright, running now, clipped the dolly with a steel-toed boot and sent the whole thing flying over, pavers spilling everywhere. Right in back of my foreman where he was kneeling on the driveway.

  Once the dust had settled, Blake pushed a couple of pavers away from his backside and got to his feet. I sheepishly grinned at him. He shook his head. “Hazard, try not to live up to your name, huh? For the good of the health of me and the crew.”

  I nodded, amazed and gratified that the guy hadn’t fired me on the spot. I’d only been on the job an hour, and this was already my second dolly wreck.

  Actually, not a bad hour for a guy with my safety record. That’s why they call me Hazard. I’d lost my previous three summer jobs when I’d: (1) accidentally pulled the ladder out from under a residential window-washing colleague, (2) smacked three guys in the head with a sheet of drywall at a house construction site, and (3) spilled boiling grease all over the brand-new shoes of my boss at a fast-food fry job. Even the placement counselor at the student employment office called me Hazard.

  But I kept applying, because I needed tuition money for college. And I kept getting hired, because the skyrocketing price of base metals had turned our northern mining town into a boomtown.

  Blake crouched back down, once again picking up and placing the pavers into their interlocking pattern, building a driveway to last a lifetime. I began stacking another load onto the dolly from the pallets at the end of the driveway. That was my job: delivering the stones to Blake, who then fit them together in the sandy jigsaw puzzle. Ideally, I would deliver them smoothly, right next to the guy, rather than catapulting them onto his back.

  It was hard, hot, muscle-straining and forearm-scraping work. But the job had its good parts: all on Blake.

  He was in his midtwenties, muscular all over from lifting and planting and stamping pavers for a living, with short black hair and warm brown eyes. He filled his faded jeans tight and taut, round in all the right places, his asscheeks looking hard as the stones he was setting down. And since it was so hot and the work so heavy, he had his shirt off, his chiseled torso gleaming smooth and pumped in the sunshine. The guy was actually a good half-foot shorter than I was, but then I’m a carrot-topped beanpole.

  I ogled my boss’s rock-hard, glistening body constantly, my mouth hanging open and eating dust, craving to lick the salty sweat from his muscle-humped chest and rigid nipples. I strangled the handles on the dolly, yearning to finger the soft, perspiration-slick crack of his ass. And what with all my sweating and drooling, I was soon parched with thirst.

  “Uh, is there anywhere I can get a drink of water?” I croaked, towering over Blake’s broad, muscle-bunched back like a loving shade tree. The rest of the crew had gone on their dinner break, so it was just me and the boss.

  He turned his head and squinted up at me, making sure I wasn’t holding anything that could fall on him, no doubt. “Yeah, sure. The people who own the house are gone for the weekend, so it’s locked up, but there’s a hose in the backyard they said we could use.” He grinned and added, “Don’t flood the basement or anything, okay?”

  I grinned back, said, “Okay,” then tripped over the heel of his boot and went sprawling onto the front lawn as I tried to move around him.

  I managed to make it through the wooden gate that led into the backyard with only a slight tear to my T-shirt from a snagging nail, and spotted the hose hooked up to a faucet at the rear of the house. As I was cranking the handle, getting the water to flow (after lifting my big feet off the hose), I heard some yelling and splashing coming from the house next door. So I walked farther into the yard, past the garage that blocked my view, playing out the hose and sucking sweet, cool water from the spout.

  A six-foot-high plank fence surrounded the entire backyard, but that was no eyeball obstacle for a galoot like me. And when I peeked past the garage and over the fence, I choked on the water and just about swallowed the hose.

  There was a swimming pool next door with two guys waist deep in the middle of it, in each other’s arms, in the midst of a hard, hot, passionate kiss!

  I gaped at the men blatantly sucking face. They were really feeding on one another, lips chewing, tongues flailing, arms grappling, locked together so tight not even a sliver of light showed between their suntanned and water-washed bodies.

  One guy had blond hair, the other a shaved head. Blondie pulled back from Baldy’s ravenous mouth, sealed his lips around the other guy’s tongue, and sucked on it, the bald dude groaning his encouragement. I openly watched them going at it in that neighboring dunk tank, as I dropped the waterhose, and wrapped my fingers around my own hose, which had swollen in my jeans. I squeezed and rubbed my cock, eating up the erotic aquatic action next door, the two water sports too wrapped up in each other to notice my jughead floating over the fence.

  Baldy reeled his sucked-dry tongue back in, dropped his head down to Blondie’s chest, and started to lick the guy’s protruding nipples. He swirled his chunky pink tongue all around the slick, tan buds, Blondie tilting his head back and moaning, gripping his lover’s cinder-block shoulders.

  The dude with the high-polish chrome dome vigorously sucked on Blondie’s nipples, bit into them, tugged on them with his shiny white teeth. Like I was tugging on my pulsing prick through my jeans, my body burning with a heat more than sun and work related. This was the kind of manual labor I could really get into.

  After working over his tub-buddy’s boyish chest for a good, long while, Baldy steamed the guy through the water and up against the side of the pool. He lifted the sleek little blond out of the water with the greatest of ease and plunked him down on the pool’s edge. Which is when I gleefully noticed that the guy was totally naked, his hard, all-man cock bobbing like an inflatable beach toy as he splashed down on the rim of the water bin.

  Baldy quickly swam in between Blondie’s legs, latched on to the guy’s lean thighs, and began capturing and swallowing his glistening cockhead. Blondie groaned, sprawling his hands back to hold himself up under the muscle-stud’s onslaught, Baldy’s head diving down between his quivering legs. My hand froze on my bulging cock, as I witnessed the dick-defying sword-swallowing. Baldy consumed his buddy’s entire prick like it was nothing, and everything.

  I held my breath, along with my writhing neighbor. Finally, Baldy pulled his head back and gleaming meat oozed out from between his thick lips like a greased snake. When he got to the cap, he bit into it, then inhaled the whole shaft again, his tongue shooting out to lick at Blondie’s blond balls.

  I started squeezing and rubbing again, singing the bald man’s deep-throating praises with the palm of my hand. Th
e shaven muscleman gripped his buddy’s legs and bobbed his head up and down, earnestly sucking cock. Blondie rode his lover’s cranium with one of his hands, his lithe body quivering with the wicked vacuum power of the awesome blow job.

  “You workin’ or jerkin’?” a voice exploded in my ear.

  I twisted my head around and saw Blake at the open gate. He was looking at me, and my sweaty paw clutching my thread-straining cock. “Uh…” I stammered, my face going even redder than my sunburn.

  He walked over to me, then went up onto his tiptoes and peered over the fence, taking in the erotic sights. “Not bad technique. You might actually learn something,” he casually commented. “Wanna give it a try, Hazard?”

  I stared at the stud, hardly believing my burning ears. He just smiled and placed his warm hand over mine on my throbbing cock. And I just about jumped out of my work boots.

  Blake unfastened his belt and unzipped his jeans as I sank to my knees in the grass, ready and willing and eager to worship. He pushed his pants and briefs down, and his cock flopped out into the sunlight, big and getting bigger. I trembled with delight, inhaling the musky, ball-sweated scent of the man, watching his beautiful vein-ribboned tool rise up and up, expand, and point at my face. Here was finally something I could truly handle on the job, the best job in the world.

  “Suck it, Hazard,” Blake rasped. I went to work.

  I seized his thick dong with just my forefinger and thumb, forming a ring that I rode up and down his pink, pulsating length, quick and light and teasing. He grunted, urging me to grab on and fist him. But I O-ringed his cut cock from balls to cap, sailing up and down his bumpy shaft with my circle jerk, neat and clean and tantalizing. I might be all thumbs in the workplace, but in the sexplace I consider myself a bit of a master craftsman.

  Blake groaned and grabbed at my hair as I pumped him fast, then slow, then fast again, tickling his tight, shaven nut sac with my other hand. Moans and groans from across the fence mingled and merged with Blake’s gasps of lust in the superheated air, until the guy just couldn’t take my sexual taunting anymore. He yanked my head into his groin, begging me to suck him.