Good Help is Great to Find Ch. 01

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The pressure I felt on the back of my head gave me enormous satisfaction. I would have smiled but my mouth was full. Full of him. And he was eager for more of him to be in my mouth. Relaxing my throat, breathing through my nose, I spread my lips further around his girth. I heard the sound I longed to hear: A whiney sigh that came from deep inside him.

More pressure from his hand on the back of my head, which I allowed and welcomed, relaxing more and taking him entirely. My nose pressed into his full orange bush, breathing in his scent, the earthy sweat of a working man. I suckled at the taste of this working man. Joy and bliss washed down my throat and into my spine, moving up to my brain and down my legs and arms into my hands and feet, toes and fingers. I was blissed out.

I had known Bradly for more than ten years. He first showed up at our house as a young carpenter working for the general contractor who was managing the reconstruction of the back section of our house. He was muscled, but not overly so. He had red hair on his head. His arms not only revealed fairly thick red hair there, but they fed my imagination of where else and to what extent he grew more of that gorgeous red hair.

One day, I returned from my job to find the workers still finishing the skylight installation. Coming down the ladder from the roof was Bradley, t-shirt off and tucked into the back of his pants. Shirtless, he turned around and came in my direction. I nearly swooned. Hair danced lightly on the small nipples on his pecs and ran a rust-colored trail down his defined stomach muscles, spreading out just above his pants. Hair pushed out of his pits. I looked up to his face and he caught my eyes looking. He looked away quickly and I hurried into the house.

Later we hired Bradley directly for some different projects in our house. We got to know him, and he got to know us. He is married and has children and is quite involved in a local church. He was always friendly with us and listened to us well. That’s not true for all the construction workers we’ve hired or all the church members we’ve known.

It was different with Bradley and we appreciate the easy way that he took our ideas and turned them into designs and he built and worked around our schedules. Eventually, we gave him a key so that he could come and go as projects dictated. Living in an older house means that there are almost always projects, maintenance or new additions.

A few years ago, we hired Bradley as our long-term contractor, giving him the ability to hire people as he needed to complete work as it came up and he took charge of all of our maintenance work. We often ate lunch with Bradley in our dining room when a project involved days of labor. We became meaningful friends with him. And I maintained a secret attraction to – really, a crush on – Bradley.

He often told me, when we were working on designing some new work, that he liked my ideas or my way of thinking about design. Once he said, “You have a fun mind for these things.”

Oh my, he had no idea how fun – or sordid – my mind can be where he’s involved.

I admitted my crush to my husband, Joel, and he found that funny, “Well, um, yes. My god, he’s gorgeous. And sorry, Tyler, but he’s straight as an arrow, very married and very Christian.”

I replied, “I know. Antep Escort Bayan But, to be fair, so was the guy who I blew in college. And he seemed to engage quite actively. But I hear you. I’ll never act on it, but I do confess I’ve got it bad for him.”

Over the next few years, Joel would whisper to me, on occasion, “He’s in the yard, no shirt.” I’d quickly find any reason to wander back that way. Sometimes to find Bradley fully clothed and Joel laughing behind me.

“Asshole,” I’d say, walking back to where I had been. My crush and Bradley’s looks became a joke and topic of occasional conversation between Joel and me.

Joel is tall and has mostly stayed in shape for being over forty. I’m not that tall and I’ve struggled some to stay in shape physically but now I maintain a fairly slim build and decent musculature for a guy in my forties. Bradley is in his 30s and is about 6′ 3” and maintains a very toned physique.

Earlier this year, I came down the stairs after a shower in just my boxers, thinking no one else was in our house. As I turned through the dining room, Bradley started in, as well, through the other door out of the kitchen.

I startled. And he caught himself, apologizing for not making his presence known. He had come by for some measurements and had called out at first, but I hadn’t heard him in the shower. I laughed and excused myself to grab clothes, but I didn’t miss that his eyes traveled down my back and lingered for a bit on my towel-covered ass as I turned for the stairs.

Not knowing what that was or how to respond to it, I did nothing. I put on clothes and headed down again, chatted with Bradley a bit before he left. He couldn’t have been too far from the house when I stretched out on my bed, opening my pants and handling my erection, and pushing my pants off onto the floor.

I imagined kneeling before Bradley, rubbing his thighs with both of my hands slowly and leaning in to smell him and kiss the crotch of his pants. My ecstasy built as I allowed my imaginary self to reach for his belt and open it, to press his chest back some and to open his jean’s button and zipper.

In my mind, my bolder Tyler grabbed the top of his pants and pulled them to his ankles. Bradley moaned as he stretched out fully on his back. I pressed my face into his slightly damp, sweaty crotch, as I ran my hands up his legs, feeling the silky hair there excite my skin and his.

Writhing on my bed alone, stroking my cock like a horny teenager, I closed my eyes, yet stared at the plump front of the underwear worn by this version of Bradley. I wanted him so much. I opened his briefs and his cock was nearly at full mast. I took his imagined cock in my imagined mouth…and my real hips bucked forward, and my real mouth moaned. My real cock exploded, covering my stomach with cum. My overactive imagination had brought me a very real and exhausting orgasm.

Later, I smiled at that fantasy and burned in my crush for this hot worker, this friend. That was months ago.

Then this afternoon I came home, knowing that Bradley was working in the house. I found him in the basement where he and I discussed the current work and the next phase of reconstruction. He was showing me some plans he had designed for our review. I asked a question or two.

“If we open this wall, does that extend this closet or is that possible?” I asked, leaving my hand on the drawing and pointing at the wall I had in mind. Bradley moved close behind me and placed his left hand on mine, moving my hand just an inch or so up the page.

“This wall, you mean? And yes, opening that wall could allow for extending the closet,” said Bradley.

I didn’t hear practically anything he said. He had touched my hand with his. He had held my hand and moved it. His fingers were still on my hand. His breath was just inches from my ear. I swelled in my pants and my “Danger, Will Robinson, Danger” signal went off in my head.

Ignoring that signal, I placed my right hand over his left and moved it to another point. I didn’t really care where, I just wanted to touch his hand that held my hand.

“OK.” Bradley said, and laughed a little nervously. “What about it?”

“What about what?” I asked.

“What about the exterior wall in the kitchen are you wanting to change?” he asked, with a sly smile on pretty lips.

Caught out, I pulled back my hands and laughed with him, nervously as well.

“Oh, forget it. It was a dumb idea,” I said.

“No,” he said, regaining a concerned expression on his face, “tell me, please.”

Red-faced, I looked up at him and into those blue, blue eyes and said, “Oh, Bradley, it’s a dumb and crazy crush on my part. You are a nice-looking man and I get tongue-tied around you sometimes. I’m sorry. My bad.”

I was embarrassed and afraid that Joel would kill me if I caused us to lose Bradley’s assistance and friendship. “Oh shit. Oh shit,” I said over and over in my head.

A long pause. Bradley stepped back with one foot and then stepped right back close to me. He said, “You think I’m hot? Wow, that’s a compliment. I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, you’ve not hit me. And you’ve not stormed out. So, we are doing ok, right?” I asked, “Ignore my silly impulse and let’s just get to back to work.”

And that’s what we did, until I walked by where he was working, and he turned, catching me staring at his lean profile and the front of his pants. I laughed again and my face reddened yet again.

Then he said, “Hey, let me tell you something. When I was in college, I wasn’t a Christian. And I was horny a lot. And a couple of times I had a male friend who jerked me off and you know, did some things orally, too. So I’m not a virgin in all of that male on male stuff.”

“Oh. Wow. Ok,” I stumbled with my words and looked at him. I didn’t know what to do. I knew I needed to get out of this space. And I also knew that I wanted – more than anything – to stay right here and pursue this. To pursue him.

“I’m not a jerk,” he said, “I like you and Joel. I appreciate all the work you bring my way. I’d do anything for you two. You know that, right?” He touched my chin with a finger, lifting my face up toward his.

I nodded my head. I had no words and my confusion was resolving toward two possible outcomes. Either I’d get his long explanation about why this isn’t going to happen or there’d be a gentle, unspoken perhaps, nudge toward: This Is Going To Happen.

With his face above mine, Bradley stepped closer to me and he said, “What do you want? What would blow your fun mind right now?”

My embarrassment was pushed to the side by my deeply hidden confidence and sexually curiosity. “Can I blow you?” I asked, in a clear voice, as though I were asking about adding cabinets or shelves.

“Yes. Wow. Sure. Why not? Yes. Where?” he asked, with a surprised look on his face followed by what appeared to be a smirk of inner celebration.

“Upstairs. My bed,” I said, now breathless, unbelieving that this wasn’t just my imagination tricking me.

Sure, see you there. I gotta wash up. A bit,” Bradley said over his shoulder, as he walked up the stairs out of the basement.

I nearly flew to my room, tossing things in a closet and unsure how to wait, how to prepare. I didn’t have long to be unsure and wondering.

Bradley stepped into the room and said, “Ok, let’s make you happy. Me, too. Tell me how you want this to go? What’s your fantasy?”

“Sit,” I croaked. He knew that I fantasized about him. I was sweating. My heart was beating away in my chest. I watched him smile and step to the bed and seat himself on the side nearest me.

I kneeled, fully clothed, between his legs and got started in a slow process of moving his jean to a puddle of denim at his ankles. I smelled him in, leaning in toward his full briefs. His hands caught me on either side of my face. And he leaned to me and kissed me fully on the lips. I opened my mouth slightly, surprised and excited. Then he tongued into my mouth, licking at my lips, tongue and teeth. I moaned against his mouth, as he gently kneaded my jaws and the sides of my neck.

After the kiss, he leaned back some and smiled at me.

Soon I had his briefs down on top of his pants and I had licked his inner thighs to his balls, and all around, finally taking his cock in my mouth. Moaning and breathily raggedly, he stretched out. Soon his cock was fully in my mouth and his hair there was tickling my nose.

Lying fully on his back, he was breathing heavily and rutting at my face from time to time. His right hand held my head in place as he fucked my face. I loved the feel of him in my throat. Loved the smell of his crotch. Loved the sounds he made as he moaned and yessed above me. Loved the gentleness he had as he moved me with his guiding hand on my head, slightly or slowing or increasing the pace and rhythm of my mouth on his cock with his guiding hand. I licked around his cock head and sucked him deeply.

“Tyler, man, I’m cumming. Hey. Oh yes. Yes,” Bradley breathily said to me, to the room, to himself.

At that, I deep-throated his big cock and slowly, using my spittle that ran down his both sides of his balls, I slipped my wet right index finger into the crack of his ass. Inching my finger slowly into that hairy crack, I heard him yell something like “forthluvah” and he pressed my head even further onto his cock.

He came and came, and I suckled him there on the edge of the bed for another minute, until he was growing limp in my mouth and his spasms were subsiding. As I sat submissively between his legs, he was catching his breath and saying, “oh my oh my oh my.”

“I know you know where the bathroom is. Take your time recovering and cleaning up. I’ll be downstairs.” I said, standing up and looking down at this beautiful man stretched across the bed, so still it could appear that I’d shot him instead of sucked him. I hit the stairs with a smile on my face and Bradley’s cum still viscously sliding down my throat. Now what?

-To be continued

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