The pressure I felt on the back of my head gave me enormous satisfaction. I would have smiled but my mouth was full. Full of him. And he was eager for more of him to be in my mouth. Relaxing my throat, breathing through my nose, I spread my lips further around his girth. I heard the sound I longed to hear: A whiney sigh that came from deep inside him.
More pressure from his hand on the back of my head, which I allowed and welcomed, relaxing more and taking him entirely. My nose pressed into his full orange bush, breathing in his scent, the earthy sweat of a working man. I suckled at the taste of this working man. Joy and bliss washed down my throat and into my spine, moving up to my brain and down my legs and arms into my hands and feet, toes and fingers. I was blissed out.
I had known Bradly for more than ten years. He first showed up at our house as a young carpenter working for the general contractor who was managing the reconstruction of the back section of our house. He was muscled, but not overly so. He had red hair on his head. His arms not only revealed fairly thick red hair there, but they fed my imagination of where else and to what extent he grew more of that gorgeous red hair.
One day, I returned from my job to find the workers still finishing the skylight installation. Coming down the ladder from the roof was Bradley, t-shirt off and tucked into the back of his pants. Shirtless, he turned around and came in my direction. I nearly swooned. Hair danced lightly on the small nipples on his pecs and ran a rust-colored trail down his defined stomach muscles, spreading out just above his pants. Hair pushed out of his pits. I looked up to his face and he caught my eyes looking. He looked away quickly and I hurried into the house.
Later we hired Bradley directly for some different projects in our house. We got to know him, and he got to know us. He is married and has children and is quite involved in a local church. He was always friendly with us and listened to us well. That's not true for all the construction workers we've hired or all the church members we've known.
It was different with Bradley and we appreciate the easy way that he took our ideas and turned them into designs and he built and worked around our schedules. Eventually, we gave him a key so that he could come and go as projects dictated. Living in an older house means that there are almost always projects, maintenance or new additions.
A few years ago, we hired Bradley as our long-term contractor, giving him the ability to hire people as he needed to complete work as it came up and he took charge of all of our maintenance work. We often ate lunch with Bradley in our dining room when a project involved days of labor. We became meaningful friends with him. And I maintained a secret attraction to - really, a crush on - Bradley.
He often told me, when we were working on designing some new work, that he liked my ideas or my way of thinking about design. Once he said, "You have a fun mind for these things."
Oh my, he had no idea how fun - or sordid - my mind can be where he's involved.
I admitted my crush to my husband, Joel, and he found that funny, "Well, um, yes. My god, he's gorgeous. And sorry, Tyler, but he's straight as an arrow, very married and very Christian."
I replied, "I know. But, to be fair, so was the guy who I blew in college. And he seemed to engage quite actively. But I hear you. I'll never act on it, but I do confess I've got it bad for him."
Over the next few years, Joel would whisper to me, on occasion, "He's in the yard, no shirt." I'd quickly find any reason to wander back that way. Sometimes to find Bradley fully clothed and Joel laughing behind me.
"Asshole," I'd say, walking back to where I had been. My crush and Bradley's looks became a joke and topic of occasional conversation between Joel and me.
Joel is tall and has mostly stayed in shape for being over forty. I'm not that tall and I've struggled some to stay in shape physically but now I maintain a fairly slim build and decent musculature for a guy in my forties. Bradley is in his 30s and is about 6' 3'' and maintains a very toned physique.
Earlier this year, I came down the stairs after a shower in just my boxers, thinking no one else was in our house. As I turned through the dining room, Bradley started in, as well, through the other door out of the kitchen.
I startled. And he caught himself, apologizing for not making his presence known. He had come by for some measurements and had called out at first, but I hadn't heard him in the shower. I laughed and excused myself to grab clothes, but I didn't miss that his eyes traveled down my back and lingered for a bit on my towel-covered ass as I turned for the stairs.
Not knowing what that was or how to respond to it, I did nothing. I put on clothes and headed down again, chatted with Bradley a bit before he left. He couldn't have been too far from the house when I stretched out on my bed, opening my pants and handling my erection, and pushing my pants off onto the floor.
I imagined kneeling before Bradley, rubbing his thighs with both of my hands slowly and leaning in to smell him and kiss the crotch of his pants. My ecstasy built as I allowed my imaginary self to reach for his belt and open it, to press his chest back some and to open his jean's button and zipper.
In my mind, my bolder Tyler grabbed the top of his pants and pulled them to his ankles. Bradley moaned as he stretched out fully on his back. I pressed my face into his slightly damp, sweaty crotch, as I ran my hands up his legs, feeling the silky hair there excite my skin and his.
