It was just a summer job in between college semesters many years ago, but it was a learning experience and one that helped the younger man realize that some of the things he enjoyed that he thought strange were things that others enjoyed as well.
***
"You okay, Tim?" my boss asked me as we sat under the tree after eating lunch. "Heat getting to you?"
"No sir, I'm okay," I replied, but that wasn't really true because I was light-headed.
Part of that feeling might have been due to the temperature, which was probably close to 90, but I worked in the heat of the day on a regular basis and had become used to it.
The primary reason for the way I was feeling was the man who was rising up from the grass and brushing off his shorts. The man was my employer, Mr. House, and in the few weeks I had been working for him and his construction company, I had developed a bit of a crush on the middle-aged man.
It was more than a bit of a crush, to be honest. I had become infatuated with the man, and since he was fond of working right along with his help, that gave me a lot of opportunity to be with him. I tried not to let my feelings show, because I sensed that kind of thing wouldn't go over well with a bunch of laborers who were mostly a bunch of stereotypical macho guys.
Mr. House, Chuck to almost everybody except me, was macho as well, but not in a stupid way. He was intelligent and had a sense of humor, but it wasn't his mind that drew me to him, it was his body. It's safe to say that there weren't many men pushing 50 who were built like Mr. House.
After I graduated high school, I had decided that I was tired of being a pudgy kid and had made a effort to improve the way I looked. It had worked very well, and in addition to losing the extra pounds I had ended up with a fairly muscular body.
Nothing like Mr. House though, because his 6'2" frame looked like it was chiseled from stone. He might had weighed about 200 pounds, but if there was an ounce of fat on him I couldn't see it, and believe me when I say that I looked.
It was tough enough trying not to look at this man at work when he was wearing a tank top and work pants, but the way he was dressed today - shirtless and wearing only shorts and sneakers - was sweet torture for me.
Mr. House had asked me if I was interested to making a little extra money that weekend, helping him work around this summer camp he had upstate, and I jumped at the chance. The money would come in handy for books come fall, but the best part would be to spend time with him.
"Don't mention this to any of the other fellas," he had said and I agreed, partly because I didn't like many of them and besides they thought I was a kiss-ass as it was.
Mr. House picked me up that Saturday morning, and I was shocked when he arrived on a motorcycle. I don't know what was scarier, taking my first ride on the back of a bike or having to be that close to my boss. It gave me a chance to make a lot of physical contact with him, and it wasn't the vibration of the cycle that had my dick hard for the 40 mile ride.
When we got there anbd started working, Mr. House took off his t-shirt and encouraged me to do the same. My body was only a little tan, except for my arms, which had gotten a lot more color, but Mr. House's upper torso was bronze all over, the deep brown hue even more noticeable when his shorts would dip as he worked and revealed the creamy white skin below.
"Don't wear a shirt up here much," he had explained when I mentioned his tan, but seeing him without his shirt was way too much of a good thing, and I wondered whether my erection was ever going to leave.
Mr. House not only had massive arms, which I was already aware of, but his chest was broad and muscular and his waist was probably smaller than mine. The pectorals made him look like the Incredible Hulk, and the nice coating of dark brown hair on his chest only added to his appeal.
"We'll get you tan by the end of the summer," Mr. House assured me, and when he put his hand on my shoulder my heart started to race.
We did a lot of fairly easy stuff that morning, mostly clearing some land and picking up around the outside of the cabin, and as we worked it occurred to me that Mr. House might have just had me come up here with him for company, since we hadn't done anything that really needed two pairs of hands.
I did get to talk with him a lot, and I learned that although Mr. House was wearing a wedding ring he was no longer married, laughing and explaining that "Irreconcilable differences" were the cause.
"Couldn't get the thing off anyway," he said of the ring that was embedded in his hairy ring finger. "My advice to you Tim is don't get married. Play the field for as long as you can, and I'll bet you get your pick of the litter, looking like you do."
"Nah," I said, blushing, but I wasn't all that great looking even with the muscles I had grown.
I still had the baby face that made me look younger than my 19 years, and while I suppose that I could have done okay with girls, I had learned that I liked guys a whole lot more, especially older men like Mr. House.
I got to my feet along with my boss, and watched as Mr. House looked at a low hanging limb above his head, commenting that when he had come up here when he folks had bought the place in his youth, he used to hang from that limb and try to do chin ups.
"Wonder if I still can?" he wondered aloud, reaching up and taking hold of the limb, and after he effortlessly lifted himself up for a couple of chin-ups he dropped back down, laughing and commenting, "Not bad for an old man."
I nodded, wishing I had a camera as he jumped up and did it again. The way his bronze biceps bulged as he raised himself up with his shoulders and chest muscles rippling, all combined to make my dick drool but there was something that got me even hotter.
His armpits. I had noticed myself being attracted to that particular part of the male anatomy for as long as I could remember. although I was quite reluctant to admit it in words. Once I was with a guy though, in the heat of the moment there was no need to verbalize.
As Mr. House hung there and did his chin-ups, I tried not to focus on those bushy hollows and that should have been no problem given the rest of his body, but this - getting to stare at his armpits instead of taking little glances from time to time - might not have been as subtle as I thought.
I was standing next to him, and as I kept leering at those thick tufts of hair surrounded by muscle I was dying to take a couple of steps forward and bury my face under his arm. The guy was so cool that he hardly broke a sweat as he did those chin-ups, although perspiration wouldn't have fazed me a bit. I, on the other hand, was dripping wet just watching my boss.
"You try it, Tim," Mr. House said after he finished, and although I tried to get out of it he insisted, telling me that he didn't think I could do more than he had. Finally, the thought of getting to show myself off a bit proved too much for me.
I had to jump up to grab the limb, and as I started to raise myself up it occurred to me that a year ago when I was pudgy and weak I couldn't have even done one chin-up. Now my only concern was hoping that my boner wasn't showing in my shorts.
"Four - five," Mr. House said, his eyes watching me as he counted, and when I was about to pass the number he had done he announced., "Oh oh, can't have you winning."
