While I went to college and a few years after, I lived in a small townhouse apartment. The complex had around a hundred units and was its own little neighborhood with pool, laundry, gym, even a small convenience store. It had a small crew of maintenance men to make repairs, to keep up the landscaping, and to make sure everything was running smoothly. The head maintenance man retired a few years after I moved there, and he was replaced by his assistant, Marco.
I had always had a crush on Marco. He had started there in his early twenties, a skinny guy but still definitely handsome. He had dark olive skin, with a Roman nose and square jaw. His hair varied from medium- to shoulder-length, always combed backward or tied-back if he was working. He started working out in the complex gym after he was hired; and, over the years, had developed huge biceps and thick tree-trunk thighs which went well with his broad shoulders and washboard stomach. He was an Italian god.
He was always off on Sundays and Mondays, spending whatever chance he had during the summer at the pool. With the laundry beside the pool, I'd always try and do my laundry then -just to watch him laid out on a lounger oiling himself. Once when I was alone in the laundry room, I looked out the open door which connected it to the pool area -no Marco. However, I was delighted when a few minutes later, he arrived. I had my phone in my hand and I decided to surreptitiously film him as he stripped down to his swimsuit. He kicked off his shoes and dropped his baggy gym shorts to reveal a skimpy suit which looked more like a jockstrap, framing his perfectly-muscled ass. He pulled his baggy t-shirt off revealing his tight-muscled torso. He began to spread suntan oil over his body, coating every ridge and valley, every muscle. I, caught up in the moment, had walked outside to get a closer shot. Marco looked straight at me.
"Dude, are you taking pics of me?" he growled.
"Uhm, no...I'm...I'm taking photos of the pool area...uhm...for...for my sister," I stuttered as I waved the phone around the pool. "She wants one at her house. She needs ideas." And then, I walked quickly back to the laundry.
I started having problems with my dishwasher awhile after and had put in a repair request. Marco was at my door bright and early on a Monday. I was surprised because it was usually his day off. He told me two of his guys were sick and one was on vacation. He'd be doing everything himself the next couple of days. He was very matter-of-fact and business-like, friendly even, so I figured he had forgotten about the pool incident.
I was working at home back then and I told him to do what he needed to do. He said he might be coming in and out, so I told him to not even bother knocking- just come and go as he needed. It was one of those cool days which were nice if you were sitting around writing, but warm enough you could get a good sweat going if you were really working. Marco had wet sweat stains on his armpits and collar. His work shirt had several button undone, exposing his gold St. Christopher's medal nestled in his trimmed jet-black chest hair. I could smell the salty manly musk as he walked past me into the kitchen.
My desk was in what was supposed to be the dining room and my desk faced out toward the kitchen. I kept hoping he'd take off his shirt or just decide he was very horny and then come ravish me, but neither happened. The most erotic thing he did was the grunting sounds he made when he pulled out the dishwasher to look behind it.
He was in and out several times, and I got busy and didn't notice anything else until he popped his head into the room to tell me they'd be delivering a new dishwasher later this afternoon. I told him I'd leave the door unlocked and for him to do whatever he needed to do, as I'd probably still be working or doing laundry.
Later in the day, there was a soft knock and the front door opened. I walked into the foyer and was greeted by two delivery guys with the new dishwasher.
The two delivery guys were really attractive guys. The one who had knocked was a burly black guy who was almost busting out of his t-shirt, his chest and arms coiled with muscle; the other one was a slim strawberry-blond guy with freckles. The slim one had on a pair of thin coveralls which was open halfway down his freckled smooth chest. The contrast between the two guys was amazing and was kinda turning me on.
I went back to my desk while they worked on getting the dishwasher installed. I should have been working, but I was completely distracted by the two guys. All I could do was imagining the thin guy on his knees sucking the other guy's cock. The big guy was wearing pretty tight jeans and he had a good-sized package pressing against them. I could just imagine his huge biceps flexing as he slapped his fat brown cock across the skinny dude's freckled face. I wanted to see the boy trying to grab the thick cockhead with his red lips, eager to please the muscle man with his mouth.
"Alright, man. We got it installed and it's ready to go," the big guy said, leaning into the study. He had shaken me back to reality.
"Thanks!" I replied. "I left a tip there on the counter for you, have a drink on me."
"Thanks, dude!" he said as he left.
I was hard as a rock. As soon as I heard the door close, I ran to my bedroom. I pulled my shorts off and flopped onto the bed. I grabbed my tablet off the nightstand and started playing the video of Marco at the pool on repeat. It felt so good tugging on my hard cock watching Marco oiling up his flawless olive body. It was feeling so good jerking my cock and I was so into it I didn't hear the front door open and close.
I was completely shocked by the knock at my open bedroom door.
"Oh, fuck, man! Sorry to interrupt," Marco said. "You said to come on in earlier. I came to check the install of the dishwasher and drop off the manuals." He was shaking the instruction manual as he talked, not trying to make eye contact.
"Shit! I'm sorry. I forgot about that," I said as I sprang out of bed, a pillow over my crotch and looking for my shorts.
"Hey, wait a minute". Marco said looking at the tablet lying on the bed with the clip still playing. "That's me!" I turned to grab it, but Marco had thrown down the manual and stepped to the bed and got it first. "Fuck, it is me. You're jacking your cock watching me! You fucking filmed me!"
Marco was roaring and I was scared shitless.
"I'm so sorry, seriously. I shouldn't have. I'm so sorry. I'll delete it," I stammered.
Marco threw the tablet on the bed near me. I grabbed it and stopped the video. I deleted it and sat the tablet on the nightstand.
