Date: Fri, 27 Jan 2006 14:43:36 -0500
From: pm <prurientmen@gmail.com>
Subject: My Construction Man: Chapter 1 - The Best Day

This is the first chapter of a story I plan to develop further. The story
is called "My Construction Man". This chapter is called "The Best Day".

			    My Construction Man
			 -------------------------
			  Chapter 1: The Best Day

Sunlight poured in from the open window, illuminating the unmade bed in the
center of the room. Around the bed lay clothes, thrown about in different
directions. Torn, faded jeans lay beside the bed. A pair of socks,
separated by a few feet, lay near the jeans. A well-worn golden grey jock,
tearing at the waistband, had landed on the nightstand.

I began to bring the room to order, making the bed to his liking. I turned
on both desk lamps and glanced at the digital clock. Ten to four, he'd be
back any minute. I picked up the pace, quickly folding and stacking every
piece of clothing. My heart calmed as I picked up the last piece, the rank
jockstrap. I gently lifted it, balling its material behind the pouch.

With purposeful slow movement, I brought the ball of used fabric towards my
face. My lungs emptied and my chest tightened. I inhaled deeply, filling
every inch of myself with his pungent raw stench as my head fell slowly
backwards and my chest heaved forward. My eyes closed, and I could see him,
as I first saw him from the window....

That first day, weeks ago now, was one I'd never forget. The summer had
been unusually humid, the sun beat down forcefully. I knelt before him, the
god-like figure. Sweat glistening on the hair sprout from his strong,
sculpted, beautiful body. He towered over me as I worshiped him with my
gaze. His actions were slow and deliberate. He wore an evil grin.

Reaching down into his jeans, he grabbed his crotch, cupped his balls, and
brought his hand out to rub on my face. His wet, hot, calloused hand first
ran under my nose; I inhaled deeply, impassioned by his scent. I stared
into his purposeful eyes, felt my heart beating, heard it growing louder
with his actions. His hand passed over my entire face. I could hardly wait
to serve him, to be at his knees and at his disposal. He knew it.

This was it, the culmination of a week's worth of dreaming and fantasy. A
week's worth of teases, lust, and passion. I had seen him through the
second-story window, sweaty soiled shirt, torn fading jeans, his arms
strong as steel. The handsome rugged face under the white hard-hat featured
a thick mustache, trailing to the jaw at each end.

That week I had watched, lusted after him. The other men took orders from
him, and even they had hinted lust in their stares. And so I watched, put
my books to the side, anxious and nervous. He had not yet seen me; he was
preoccupied by his work.

His hand traveled slowly across my face as his glare confirmed that I would
be his to use as he pleased. His bulge was growing, now only an inch from
my face. He nodded faintly, towards his bulge. I did not hesitate,
immediately pushing my face deep into his sandy torn jeans. The scent was
strong, as I quickly moved my head from side to side with my mouth gaping,
tongue protruding.

My tongue followed the well-established outline of his cock, as I darted up
towards its end and quickly back. His scent was stronger yet, intoxicating,
drugging. His breath quickened. Briefly, I saw his chest heave as I moved
along his dick through the denim.

At that window I figured he would never discover my admiration, so I
watched entirely without restraint. All of my free time that week was spent
at that campus library, by the second floor window, which offered the best
view of the construction site. I fantasized about him every night, and once
thought to pursue him after his workday ended. To my dismay the site was
fenced entirely. Most men left by foot, though I caught only a glimpse of
him as he drove off in his black pick-up.

The next day, hottest of the season, my luck had changed. He had taken off
his shirt, as I watched from the window. As he wiped the sweat off his head
with the rolled shirt, he studied the building before him with care. His
eyes met mine, I was certain. In my lust, I hesitated to look away. When I
had thought to stop staring, it was no use. His gaze fixed at my window,
though his expression remained unchanged.

Filled with nervous energy, I managed to wear a smile as his gaze became
more meaningful with time. He had understood it all. He raised an eyebrow,
nodded his head forward and went back to his work. I didn't know what would
come of it, but had my hopes up.

His strong arm flexed as he pulled my hair back. He leaned forward and let
a long strand of spit drip to my face. He smirked as he pulled me back to
face his wet denim crotch, as the slimy spit dripped down my face, and onto
my tongue that I held out for him.

He unbuttoned the top of his jeans, and by my hair thrust me into his
glistening sculpted abs. My nose pressed into the supple wet hairy muscle,
my mouth worshipping each inch of his beauty.

On the first day that he took notice of me, he reminded me of his awareness
a few times throughout the remainder of the day as he worked. Especially so
when he came to the edge of the site that bordered the campus library.
Once, he suddenly looked up at my window, saw my intent stare and grabbed
his crotch through his jeans. He held it, as though presenting it to me. My
eyes widened, and he smiled subtly. Again he went back to work.

At three thirty I was once again by the exit gate of the construction
site. I stood a few feet from where his truck had passed the day before. I
anxiously awaited, I hoped he would have me. He would stop for me, I would
get in, and I'd be blowing him as he drove. His truck was on its way, I saw
him again, closer than I had ever. His shoulders were broad, his frame
intimidating and powerful. He noticed me, and again let me see a slight
smirk and raise of an eyebrow. Adrenaline pumped through my body. He drove
up to me, slowing slightly, then drove past. I followed, but he sped off
onto the roadway and soon he was out of sight and I was out of luck.

His musk overpowered my senses as now my actions were, to the most of my
ability, an extension of his needs. His powerful arms pulled again at my
hair and pushed my head onto his zipper, my mouth at it's base. I lowered
it with my teeth as he pulled the jeans down at his sides. Revealed was a
sight to die for. His cock, large, veiny, complete with a bulging head
dripping with precum stuck out above his used, yellowed jockstrap. This
jock was in worse condition than the one I was now holding to my nose in
his bedroom. Pouch tearing significantly, yellowed with piss, wet with
sweat and precum. The smell eminating from it was inordinately powerful:
drugging, fetid, manly, and pungent. My head was thrust directly into that
moist pouch, my nose pressed deeply between the man's testicles, and my
tongue lapped the bottom of the cloth, the part holding the most moisture.

The day this had happened was the one after he had driven off without me. I
had almost given up hope, but returned to my window post. On that day, as
the one before, he would tease me. I would watch and he would act unaware,
though at key times, he would face me and wink, raise an eyebrow, or
nod. On that day, he had gone out of sight of the other workers and faced
me directly, myself being his exclusive audience. When our eyes met, he
grabbed his crotch, and I could see the bulge grow. I wanted it. I needed
it. He knew. His arm raised and he repeatedly coiled two fingers as if to
summon me and nodded to me noticeably. Thinking this was another tease, I
smirked though did not move. His expression shifted, his stare had more
power, he motioned again this time with his mouth clenched, nose snarled,
and brows bent angrily. I took off. I rushed to the exit on the other side
of the building, and speedily to the fence's exit gate where I had been on
those two previous occasions. I waited a few agonizing moments. Had it been
another tease? Had I imbued more meaning than he intended? As my hopes
began to fall, the gate opened slightly and he appeared.

I could barely breathe, as he held my head in place, tightly against his
pouch. I was driven entirely by instinct now, I would do anything he
wanted, at any cost. I was his, and I would do whatever it took to keep my
position. He released his grip on the back of my head, but I took over in
pushing my head deep into his crotch. His body would be worshipped as he
deserved. I would serve him as he desired. I turned my head to lick the
sides of his stenchy jock, and bathed him with my slut mouth. I covered it
entirely, pressing my face against the top of his cock, sticking out above,
saluting me for my efforts. My bathing began to sweep wider, as I buried my
face between his powerful thighs and scrotum. I licked his sweaty inner
thighs, I tongue across his abs, stopping on my way to lick the bottom and
sides of his cock. The tastes were fantastic and I was out of my rational
control. I didn't think, I lived the moment, I did it for him.

As the gate had opened and I got my first glimpse of this formidable
construction god, my jaw dropped and eyes widened. He towered over me, his
huge figure, probably six inches higher than mine, all of him was sculpted
as though he had walked off the page of a Tom of Finland drawing. My heart
beat heavily, my body though was paralyzed by this man's silhouette
imprinted on my retinas as he stood glaring down at me. I could see in his
glance he was perturbed with me. "Why didn't you come right away?!" his
expression demanded. I suggested an apology in my eyes. "Get in here," he
spoke with a harsh low voice and he reached out and grabbed my t-shirt,
pulled me forward towards him. He pulled me forward, though he himself
hadn't moved. He dropped his grasp when he had pulled me against his own
body. My height ended at the bottom of his chin, so my face was at the
level of his musky defined chest. From this position he seemed to study my
visage, and in a few seconds, he began to walk through the opening and onto
the site. His large hand again grabbed my shirt, and I followed him as he
had planned.

As we walked, him pulling me along, my eyes caught a glimpse of the other
men on the job, all well built and all sweating profusely on this torrid
summer day, though none were as ineffably handsome as the man leading
me. On the opposite end of the site from where the library stood were a row
of portable toilets. I swallowed my reservations about them, and was ready
to do whatever he asked. I wanted to be his, and would do anything he
wanted. Gladly, he took me a good distance behind the toilets, offering a
semi-private area, in a corner of the fencing. Along the length the view
was obstructed by the toilets. He had stopped and I followed suit, but he
pulled further towards him and I stumbled into his body, feeling the
moisture, getting my first whiff of his incredible smell. My hands fell
onto his pecs to regain my footing, and as I did, I stood no more than an
inch from this man's remarkable physique. He wanted me to be weak, he
wanted me to stumble onto his body. I saw one arm move, and felt both of my
wrists trapped in his grip, he put a hand on each end of his torso. "Grab
it," came as a bark from his mouth. I gripped his thin soiled white shirt
and he lifted my hands over his head, the sweaty shirt pulled off revealing
his incredible hairy, defined torso. He let go of one hand, held the shirt,
and let my other hand go. I lowered them to my sides as he dropped his
moist shirt across my face. He rubbed his hand across it, finding my mouth
and stuffing it full with cloth. I breathed in deeply.

"Kneel, slut," I heard in another quick bark. Blinded by the shirt, I knelt
before him. I wanted him! I wanted to see him, to exist for him! I hoped he
wouldn't leave me blinded much longer, but resigned myself again to do
whatever he wanted of me, anything to keep him satisfied. "You're mine now,
bitch," he spoke slower, emphasizing the word "mine." I felt a sudden
strong pressure moving against my forehead, and quickly the shirt became
wet and began to take on the unmistakable odor of piss. It splattered
across the top of my head, and on a hot day like that one it felt relieving
and fresh. I tried to taste it through the shirt when enough had collected;
It was salty, intriguing, and heavy. The stream lasted a long time, and I
got to sample a large amount through the ratty shirt. My entire front was
covered in it as it kept pouring onto my covered face and down to my
kneeling body. My shirt was heavy, soaked as were the top of my jeans. I
was enjoying the taste and wished he would lift the shirt and feed it to me
directly from the source.

I wouldn't get that chance as I noted the stream stop, and another command
issued, "Now put it on, and tell me whose bitch you are." I lifted it, my
eyes again fawning over his beautiful statuesque body, and put the heavy
yellowed shirt over mine. "I'm YOUR bitch, Sir." His eyebrow raised
slightly, as though to call suspicion to what I had said. I added, "I will
serve you, I will be an extension of your powerful body, existing only to
please you as you deserve to be treated, Sir!" This garnered a more
favorable response. Smirking, he looked down at me, it was all exactly as
he wanted. His piss dried slowly on my face as the moment drew on.

And this is how, on the very best day of my life, I came to be kneeling
before this glorious, powerful construction stud. Right then he would reach
into his jeans to grab his crotch, cup his balls, and cover my face with
his intoxicating odor. It was then that he would press my face into his
demin-covered crotch and I would slobber over it. It was then that he would
let down a wad of spit onto my face, and then that I would bury my head
into his putrid torn jock strap. I'd begin bathing him in my spit, starting
with every surface of the jock strap and covering his thighs, abs, and
cock.

My tongue service continued, from his abs to the musky used pouch, I
covered every area with great care. His large dick throbbed and became
wider yet. It rewarded me with slimy salty precum in no short quantity. He
pulled my head back, and stepped over my body, passing my head between his
legs. He let out a muted grunt and I dove right into the deep, dark, fetid
ass. He pushed my head further still, and I tried with all my might to dig
deeper with my tongue. I used my hands to separate his muscular rounded
cheeks, and lapped up all over. I alternated between my tongue and nose,
pushing into his hole as I thought he wanted.

My nose had been deep within him, and he reached back to hold my head in
place. In a few seconds as my nose dug only slightly deeper, he let out a
fart that forced his ass to flap around my nose, tickling and filling the
air with a surprisingly pleasant fragrance. I was in heaven.

He stepped back from over me and now again I slobbered on his jock, though
now looking up at his face, to read what he wanted me to do next. I
continued my task for a good while, sucking at his individual testicals
through the fabric. Then, upon my best guess as to the meaning his changed
expression carried, I lowered the jock with my teeth, as much as I could as
I alternated sides. As I slipped the final side down his thigh, his cock,
wet with new precum, bounced out of its encasing onto my shoulder. It was
huge, and I looked up at him again. He squinted and smirked knowingly,
"Open up," he commanded. He lowered himself to pull both jock and jeans
down to his feet and in the process let a larger wad of spit collect at his
lips. He was bent down, his head only a few inches from mine, his glare was
embracing, as I stared, mouth wide open. The spit, considerably more than
before, slid down from his mouth and into mine as he winked favorably. I
swallowed, though only later would learn through repetition that this was
the foundation of a reward system for adequately servicing his needs. My
reward was a piece of him, something he'd made and given generously to
me. I would learn to appreciate the rarity and significance of the gesture.

His frame rose back to fully upright. Now my view was of my construction
god wearing absolutely no clothing from the ankles up. The view was
tremendous, as he rose high above my kneeling body and all of him was
incredibly tuned, tanned, covered in hair which held his delicious
sweat. His cock, hard as steel, protruded a great distance thickly covered
in my saliva, his precum and sweat. It glistened in the setting sun. I
hoped I'd be able to fit it all down my throat, and could hardly restrain
myself from trying. His large balls hung low in a hair-covered scrotum.

He became somewhat restless and I quickly went for his cock. Before I could
get it though, he grabbed it by the base and pushed it down onto my face.
He spread the mixture of precum, sweat, and saliva all across my face, and
again grunted. I opened widely and he moved his hips back to put the head
in my mouth. He held me and thrusted forward. I resist my gag reflex,
though his cock had not yet passed my mouth. I ran my tongue on its bottom
inside my mouth and he pulled out entirely. A strand of saliva hung between
my mouth and his oversized cock. Again, this time with more force and a
tighter grip, he thrusted down into my mouth making it down my throat. I
couldn't breathe and was still many inches from his thick pubic hair. I
resisted the gag, my eyes watered as I greedily pushed more in. He pulled
out again. Gasping for air, my throat again filled with his tool. Again, he
removed himself entirely and thrust forward.

Eventually the pace would become familiar to me, though on that day I would
not touch my nose to his pubes as I so desperately tried to accomplish.
Either his thrust would end before I could make it or my gagging won
out. As time passed I felt lightheaded, and on some thrusts I felt close to
faint. He was loving it, his face now wore a wide grin, one I had never
seen. His grunts became frequent. Thrust after thrust, I got more
comfortable and did more with my tongue. I could feel his muscles tense,
his grip on my head tightened and his cock pulsed strongly.

He moaned deeply and powerfully as he gave me another reward. He had pulled
his cock out of my throat, jacking it with his powerful arm, as I played
with its head in my mouth. The head contracted rapidly, and at once, it
tensed for a long time as the first spurt of his load filled my mouth. I
swallowed quickly, awaiting the next, though by then he had removed his
dick entirely and lowered slightly so that his cock head was but inches
from my face, eye-level. The second, third, and fourth explosions hit my
face with some force. My mouth was still opened widely, as I licked
frantically all I could dripping down my face. Its taste was strong and
carried a hint of sweetness, its texture was thick. I played with it in my
mouth towards the end, covering my tongue with my gooey delicious prize.

He moaned once last time, louder still than the previous, as the final
spurts landed across my face. He had continued to grin, approving of my
service. He used his softening cock to swipe across my face picking up the
errant cum, and feeding it to me. It took four passes until most of the cum
was in me, and I could not have been happier.

He bent forward, bringing his glistening body near to mine, and pulled up
his jock and jeans. "By the gate, end of the day," he spoke, softer than
usual. With that, he walked off.

I continued to kneel, facing nothing but the setting sun beyond the fence.

-

To be continued....

I hope you've enjoyed the story, and I also hope you'll email me with any
comments, suggestions, or encouragement. Please don't be shy! I would love
to hear from you! My address: prurientmen@gmail.com

I'm going to keep track of the stories I write at:
http://www.geocities.com/prurientmen