Scratching the Service Worker Itch

“Well, OK, if that’s what you want,” Nick said with a sigh, as he logged off the computer and unfolded himself from his chair. “You’re in luck. I happen to have met a couple of construction workers last evening at Club 216 who were quite explicit about what they could do with me if I came over to their construction site. I think they were hunky enough for you. Let’s take a ride.”

Three guys were standing around a pickup truck at the construction site and taking a smoke break when Nick and I drove up. I could tell at a glance that they’d fit my bill: all big, square-chinned sonovabitches, with big hands, muscles on their muscles, and big broad grins on their faces when they recognized Nick. Nick told them what I wanted, and their grins got even bigger as they circled around me, eyeing me lasciviously and whistling at and talking dirty to me. Just what I’d ordered. My Cock began to throb; my ass began to twitch.

They led us into what would be the basement of a half-finished McMansion at the back corner of the construction area, and, at my request, two of them stripped down to just their hard hats, their tool belts, and their boots, as the third one slowly stripped me down, feeling me up as clothing items were shed, and sucking me off. When they’d striped down, the other two construction workers and Nick watched me get a blow job. I was just standing there leaning against what was going to be a load-bearing pole. The one working on me was actually the youngest and best looking by far. He was stripped down to just cutoff jeans, and I didn’t at all mind him giving me a slow and easy blow job; I knew there was rough action coming later. The other two construction workers were licking their lips and fondling and pulling on their horse-hung meat as they watched the younger one going down on me.