Ryan & Mike & the Guys 6
Ryan at Work
At 94Β° and humid, it not been a good day to work construction. Matt had spring for a few six packs and cleaned up the area after the last guys left.
'Had a few,' he thought, 'probably best to nap in the SUV a bit before driving home. But first, I gotta take a leak.' He was on the third floor and the toilet pods were down at the start of the site. He walked over to the open side of the building, pushed his jeans and knit boxers to his knees, and let the stream fly. He was a large man, in manyways. He stood at 6'2", with a wide chest, full back, and thick butt, and tapered waist. He reached under the sweaty T-shirt and scratched his hairy chest. His hand smoothed down his abs to his heavy cock, still pissing out the beer. He waved his hips, scattering the flow over the ground below. He grasped the shaft and, even after shaking the last drops free, continued slowly shaking and watched his cock grow from its flaccid 6" to about 9"long. He hadn't had any in awhile. His wife tended to lose interest in the last months of pregnancy and he thought about getting release. As he stroked his heavy meat, watching the empty view, he knew he was too horny to have that cut it today and pulled his clothes back up over his muscled, hairy, thighs. He stuffed his deflating dick in and buttoned up.
Matt was a crew supervisor, and the Boss trusted him, so he had the keys and locked up the tools, site, and set alarms. He walked down around the back to the gar parking area. Most of the guys parked in front, but most of the guys have gotten dings, scrapes, and dirt on their trucks. If he so much as scratched the SUV, his wife would string him up.
He came around the turn and saw his SUV and a blue pick-up. He saw Ryan slam the driver's door of the cab and throw his trucker's cap into the bin in back. Ryan didn't look happy. His red hair was wet with sweat, his white T-shirt had soaked through so that you could see his skin where the cloth had stuck to it. Matt watched as Ryan peeled the damp shirt up over his head and added it to the bin. As Matt came around the tail of Ryan's truck, he heard the jingle of a belt and saw Ryan push his jeans down to his ankles. The subsequent swearing drowned out any sound Matt would make as Ryan realized he hadn't removed his boots first, and now they were tangled in the jeans..
Ryan cursed and bent in half, trying to find the knots and undo them; Matt was presented with his full backside. His white jockeys were streaked with sweated, his cheeks looking at white as the briefs and the shadow of a butt-crack running down from the sweat stained band. Matt was straight, but looking at the muscled butt, curving out above thick, red-haired thighs and calves, he had to admit that Ryan had a great ass. He quietly walked up to him, grabbed his hips, and began slamming his crotch into Ryan like a porn star going to town.
"What the fuck!" Ryan would have pitched forward, but for Matt's grip on his hips. He stood up straight, hitting his back against Matt's chest and twisted around to see his assaulter. "Matt! What the fuck?" He pushed away and his feet tangled and started to go down. Matt grabbed his forearm and pulled him back, wrapping an arm around Ryan's chest and holding him securely, back to chest.
Matt laughed, "Ryan, if you're gonna put a target like that out on display, you're just asking someone to jump it. You know how I go for gingers."
Ryan relaxed against Matt, leaning back into the broad, hairy chest. They had known each other for years and Matt was always friendly, respectful, and a known prankster. "But usually, Matt, your gingers have enormous boobs."
Matt reached up and grabbed Ryan's well-developed pecs, "I dunno, kid, you got some knockers here." He pinched the nipples hard as Ryan struggled free, his butt squirming against Matt. He felt the firm butt against his crotch and felt his cock swelling in response. "Okay, stop your struggling and tell me why you are stripping down in a parking lot. " Matt dropped his hands to Ryan's hips and held them still, so they wouldn't grind against his hardening cock. He didn't, however, step away and kept Ryan's butt held against him.
"After the beers, I came back here and started the car to let it cool down. I loaded my gear in the bin. When I opened the cab, I found it was as fuckin' hot as before, maybe even hotter. My compressor has crapped out so no air conditioning and I got a long, hot drive ahead of me. I figured in briefs with the windows rolled down, I could at least get a wind to help cool me. But I was angry, and probably had too many beers, and when I went to take my pants off, I realized my boots were still on and they got tangled with my fuckin' damp jeans and then this sex maniac started humping my butt!"
Matt laughed and slapped Ryan's hip, noting the way the cheeks clenched against him. His hips pulsed a rub inadvertently. "Okay, kid. Breathe. Now, slowly bend down, pull the pants off your boot and untie the boot. Do the same to the other, then come back up and toe 'em off. I got you here; I won't let you fall."
Ryan bent down, his ass pressing back into Matt, and began undoing his laces. Matt felt a shiver through his back as the firm ass pressed into him and wondered if Ryan would notice the bulge in his jeans. He stared down at the wide muscles of the smooth back, white skin shining with streaks of sweat. His obliques tapered him down to a taut waist that flared again into the firm, rounded ass against him. Not even thinking about it, he let go of the right hip and traced on top of the damp waistband to the spine. The jockeys had slipped down a bit; the band raised up in the middle stretched between the two halves. The top crease of his butt was exposed, dropping down into shadow. The muscled flanks, braced against Matt, wagged around as he worked on his boots. Matt felt himself growing firmer; getting hard. He knew he should just step back, but his hands drew them closer together. There was a kind of comfort to the feel of the firm meat pressed against him. He stared into the cleft, imagining the wet heat down inside, the tight knot buried in between. He swallowed, cleared his throat. "You must do a lot of squats. Your butt's in great shape."
Ryan chuckled and waved his butt against Matt. "It's from you having us carry all the shit up and down those stairs." He bobbed it up and down. "It's like bein' paid to use as tairmaster."
"You got it tattooed?" Tossing discretion aside, Matt hooked the fingers of both hands under the waistband and yanked it down over the crest of the ass, exposing the white skin and the deep cleft. Ryan froze. Matt slapped his hands onto the sides of the meaty backside, the clap of skin loud. Matt felt a faint vibration through the muscles into his cock. "Nope. Bright and shiny, no branding." He slowly swept his calloused hand over the pale skin, feeling it skim beneath his touch.
"Matt. What are you...?"