Actually, Marco works for the apartment complex as one of its maintenance men. That he is a man, and not a boy, is very, very evident to anyone with eyes in their head. He is the shorter of the two fix-it guys. The tall one is uber hunky...a real gym rat...a super-bulked hard as nails ripped testosterone-soaked masculine superstud. God's gift to women; and to the imagination of men like me! Alan is all man. Not an ounce of gayness in him. But Marco...
"I can trim it back only so far, Mr. C, before the inner branches show." He calls us all by the first letter of our last names. C stands for Carlson. Marco stands for all of the hopes I have to finally take a much younger man into my bed. He looks to be in his mid twenties. I am in my mid forties; at a time when the seeming innocence of a tight young male body has been calling my name, like the sirens of antiquity. Just the thought of making it with Marco sends my sexual appetite into overdrive.
"It's okay, Marco. Do the best you can. I have faith in you. You always come through for me." Even the sound of his voice is enough to push me to my edge. His voice is deep, well rounded like his full ass, with the melodic and mesmerizing tonal qualities of his Latin roots.
"You always make me feel good, Mr. C. I really like being here." His smile is earnest and inviting. I feel like exploring this a bit. He keeps giving off sexual innuendo...at least I think he does?
"Where's Alan, Marco? I haven't seen him for a few weeks now. He's always with you like a big brother. Like he's protecting you in some way." I say this with a chuckle and a warm grin in a kidding way, teasing Marco into talking with me on a more personal level than ever before.
"He did. But he got fired, and had to move out." I am shocked, dismayed, and showing it.
"WHAT? How? Why?" Even though obviously and totally straight, Alan could always be counted on for putting on a muscle show; and for slipping into my imagination every now and then, in a not-so-straight way.
"He kind of beat up another renter who tried to force me, so they fired him." I take in Marco's look as he says this, searching for a clue as to his inner thoughts.
"Who would do that to you, Marco? Why?" I am concerned; I am also eager to play this to my possible advantage.
"It was Mr. H. He had me clean his pool. It was a very hot day; and I got a little dizzy.
He sat me down on his lawn chair and got me a drink. Next thing I knew, I opened my eyes to see him wrestling with the zipper of my shorts. I felt really weak, kind of drugged or dazed. I knew that Alan was next door fixing their patio door, so I yelled his name as loudly as I could muster. He came running. He pulled Mr. H. off of me, slammed his fist into his face, and carried me out to our service van."
"Damn, Marco. I'm glad you weren't hurt. It's one thing to fool around, but no one should ever get blindsided like that. Too bad about Alan. I'll miss him."
"Me too. He sure was good eye candy, right?!" Marco, Marco. I wonder if you wagged your hefty butt at Mr. H. that fateful day. Anyway, you never should have been treated that way. And though I will certainly miss Alan's eye candy, he did hover over you a lot. Protecting...or smothering...I wondered.
"Alan turned heads everywhere he went. He overshadowed everyone else in the room." The bait is out there. Will Marco take it?
"Not just in the room, Mr. C. Everywhere. He was good to me, that's for sure. But he also was overprotective; and I could never..." Marco is biting his lower lip, and is now thinking instead of talking.
"Are you working alone now, Marco? Is it somehow easier to... get along... with the renters?" He is tilting his head just a wee bit; burning holes in my mind with those soulful brown eyes, and forming a slight 'Mona Lisa' smile with his full, ethnically gorgeous mouth. I am an equal opportunity gay man. I find beauty in every race, creed and color. There is beauty in every size, shape, and form of man on this planet. With this question, I have initiated a viscerally strong connection with Marco; and I eagerly await his answer.
"Yes. I have been more careful how I show myself to some of the renters now. You know. Some men see me...differently."
"In what way, Marco?" My look is now slightly puzzled, with my own 'Mona Lisa' smile.
"They know that Alan is gone. They think they can be more bold with me than before. They think that just because I like to wear tight shorts, and wiggle my ass, that I'm as hot for them as they are for me. That may be the case with some..." He trails off and glances down my body to the bulge in my loose gym pants; before looking me in the eyes once more. A big smile is now on his face.
"See you later, Mr. C. I'll be working your grass tomorrow around 11. Nice talking with you." With that, I am watching as his bouncy ass cheeks carry Marco away toward his van. He is well proportioned in every way, yet his butt seems a bit too big for the rest of him. Not too big for me!
