Date: Sun, 23 Mar 2014 01:22:14 -0400 (EDT)
From: Milford Slabaugh <tommyhawk1@aol.com>
Subject: Plumber's Helper

			     PLUMBER'S HELPER
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     I took a deep breath, screwed up my courage and knocked on the
door. It was like seven-thirty in the morning, but if this was the right
address, then....

     "Who is it?" came the female voice, faint through the closed door.

     "Roger!" I called back.

     "Roger! Come on in!"

     I turned the doorknob and walked in. I'd never been to this house
before, but this was going to be the first of a long series of such
mornings if this worked out.

     But the living room was deserted. "Hello!"

     "In the kitchen!"

     There was a set of stairs going up and a doorway on the other side of
the room, that had to be the kitchen in there even if the angle kept me
from seeing inside. I walked over and yep, that was the kitchen in there,
with a dining table on one half of it and the stove, frig and sink on the
other side. A woman working at the stove, a man sitting at the table,
eating his breakfast. The man was my boss.

     "You're Roger Keyes?" he asked me.

     "Yes, sir." I said deferentially.

     He stood up and thrust out a huge paw of a hand at me. Damn, this guy
was big, and hairy as hell! Dark hair, brown but so dark as to be nearly
black, his beard and mustache were thick and bushy on his lower face. His
light blue work shirt bearing his name ("Dan") was, like, spray-painted
tight on his broad shoulders and huge shelf of his pecs, below that, the
slender waist was marked by the huge pleats he had to take in the shirt to
make it fit inside his so-slim bluejeans. "Good to have you on the job,
Rog." he said.

     I liked that he'd called me "Rog," I was always Roger to my family,
never a shortened version or nickname, even though when I had been twelve,
I'd tried to get them to call me "Whip" like my friends at school did. Mom
had just laughed, Daddy had sneered. "My friends call me Whip.'" I
ventured.

     He grinned. "All right, Whip. Hope you're smart as one."

     I'd gotten the nickname for my throwing arm in football, but I didn't
argue. "Hope I do, too."

     "Then let's go out and unplug some toilets." he said. I laughed and
followed him out to the white van.

     My job, in case you haven't figured it out by now, was a plumber's
helper, and it was the fourth job I'd had since I'd graduated from school
last summer. I'd gotten this job through Dad, who was an electrician but he
knew Dan through the union they shared, and Dan had agreed to take me on
and teach me his trade. I could expect low pay and lousy hours, but after
several years of this and then passing a test the union provided, I could
get my accreditation as an accomplished plumber. From there, I could build
a decent life for myself. And get the hell out of my parents' house. You
can guess I didn't get along with them much...but Dan so far seemed like a
decent fellow.

     Dan did right by me. The first job was indeed a broken down toilet,
and he opened the tank and showed me the parts and what they did and how
they worked and how to fix the leak that had made a puddle of water on the
woman's floor. He finished by telling her she should really check into
replacing the whole thing, and quoted her a price for doing so, she said
she'd think about it, and we went on to the next job.

     Another leaking tank. "How about let's see you take care of this one."

     Well, I was here to learn. I messed up once, but caught it for
myself. Dan just grunted approvingly when I did. I managed the rest of it
and finished up.

     We went out and Dan handed me the workslip tablet. "You did the work,
kid. You write it up." I had his form on the prior job for guidance and did
it proudly.

     Our next job was a kitchen sink, install a new garbage disposal
unit. It was a vacant apartment, and the landlord gave us the key and told
us where to go.

     There was only the one door under the cabinet. Dan got down on his
back and sidled underneath. "Get down here, kid."

     "Down there?"

     "Get under here with me. You got to see how this is done, don't you?"

     "Uh, I guess so."

     I got on my hands and knees, one knee in between his legs and leaned
in and under. Resting my weight on my hands, elbows bent, uncomfortable as
hell, but I got under there. Peered at the rather tangled mess of pipes and
the garbage disposal unit a black cylinder thing in there.

     "You ever see such a mess in your life?" Dan asked me.

     "How'd they do this?" Honest, the space under the sink was a real
abstract sculpture mess. Was this some kind of practical joke on me, the
new guy on the job?

     "Amateurs." Dan said in disdain. "This sink used to be a two-basin
model, like every decent kitchen sink in the world has. But someone decided
they wanted more countertop space and rebuilt the cabinets around some of
the existing pipes. Looks like they were using spare parts they'd taken out
of some other apartments and didn't have any way to cut them so they just
worked it around until it all fit."

     I looked at the mess again, didn't quite buy that even if Dan was
saying it. Too tangled to be anything but some sicko's idea of a joke. Or
art if you'd put art under a sink where it couldn't be seen. "So what do we
do?"

     Dan made a sound you'd make if you were shrugging. "Eh! We were hired
to replace the disposal. That's all we can do. Have to remove these pipes
to get to it, though. Hand me in the pipe wrench, number four."

     I knew the one he meant and the case of tools had been laid open next
to him before he lay down. I went back out and up onto my knees, fished out
the wrench, and went back in to hand it to him.

     He put the wrench on the spot and said, "Give that a good turn, but be
careful, that pipe is going to be brimful of dirty water if I have this
mess figured out right."

     I rared up best I could and put some leverage on the pipe, I was to
push the wrench handle downwards. But it didn't want to turn. "It's stuck."

     "Turn it harder. We got to get this done, the faster the better."

     So I bore down hard as I could and the pipe fought me, then turned
loose all of a sudden, the wrench went to straight downwards and there was
water squirting all over the interior of the sink on us!

     "Ah, ah, agh!" I sputtered, I was being sprayed mostly on the face!

     "Shit, shit, shit!" Dan griped, he was getting all the water pouring
off of me onto him, plus more that came at him from other directions. Even
after the spray itself stopped, it was dripping down in a steady small
stream onto him.

     "Ah, God, yuck!" I moaned. This water was foul, I mean, rotten food
particles suspended in it had gone totally bad, maybe some mold and mildew
mixed in, algae or whatever lives in dirty water.

     Dan was silent, then laughed. "Welcome to the wonderful world of
plumbing, Whip."

     "How bloody freaking wonderful it all is!" I said sourly.

     "Part of the job. Finish unscrewing that thing, take off both ends of
it, the worst of it is over now."

     It wasn't, more water was in that pipe, we'd only let loose the water
above the joint. I got more water on me and on Dan and on the floor of the
cabinet. I finished the godawful, stinky, foul job and wondered just how
much I wanted to be a plumber after all.

     As I undid the second half of the pipe, was when I noticed it. My leg
was rubbing against his crotch, the only way I could fit my body and do
anything with that wrench, was to push it right up against him there. I
hadn't thought much about it, but now I noticed it.

     Dan was throwing a boner in there. My pushing and pulling at the
wrench was rubbing my leg against his crotch and giving him an erection.

     "Are you enjoying watching me work?" I asked him, moving my leg to
show him what I meant.

     "Always a joy to watch a fellow plumber in action." Dan responded with
an easy grin.

     "Hmph." I grinned back at him as I got the pipe off and lowered
it. With the pipe in one hand and the wrench in the other, I ended up
chest-to-chest with him, our noses nearly touching. "I'll tell your wife on
you."

     "Who?"

     "The one in the kitchen with the curlers?"

     "Oh." Dan chuckled. "That's my sister. Never could land a man, so she
lives with me."

     "Oh." I said in my own turn. "So where does that leave you?"

     "Available. If you're interested."

     "Yeah?" I blinked. I was gay, but I didn't think anyone knew. "What
makes you think I am?"

     "Huh?" Dan started. "Your mom and dad found your magazines years ago,
he told me. It's why I agreed you could come work with me."

     I thought this all over. It explained why Dad had turned so damned
sour on me back when I was like fifteen or sixteen. Neither he nor Mom had
said a word about it, and my magazines hadn't been touched that I'd noticed
but, yeah, that explained a lot. Like why he hadn't set me up with one of
his fellow electricians for the apprenticeship.

     "You took me for your helper because I'm gay?"

     "Hey, we got to help each other out. Sure as shit nobody else is going
to help us. Now, how about fishing some of those rags out of the toolbox so
we can get cleaned up?"

     I'd wondered about the rags, several fair-sized cotton cloths. Now I
knew their purpose, getting splattered with foul water must be a regular
hazard of the job. I rose back up on my knees and got them out. Dan slid
out of the cabinet, pushing his crotch back up against my leg and further,
enough to lever himself up and out from under the cabinet. "God, I got to
get out of this shirt." he moaned. "We replace the disposal, we can rinse
this out. For now, I'll work shirtless!"

     I wiped at my face with one of the rags while he undid his shirt
buttons. We were still close as hell, I was practically sitting in his lap,
and he got his shirt off, leaving him with a tanktop. "Help me pull this
off, Whip." God, his arms were huge, I was looking at great globes of
muscle on his shoulder, more at his biceps, and hair in profusion
throughout, even sparsely populating unlikely places like the tops of his
shoulders and upper arms.

     "Sure thing, Dan." I got hold of the bottom of the tanktop and pulled
at it. The tank wanted to stay plastered to his body, but I finally got the
soggy thing up and over his head.

     "Now, I need one of those rags." Dan said.

     I had all three of them in my hand. I'd used one on my face, holding
the other in my fist. I reached down and began to scrub at his muscled
chest with my handful of rags, the muscles rippling as I plied the cloth
over them. Like live things were roaming about under there. Was he flexing
them at me? Yes!

     I shifted the rags so that my hand was on one side of them and his
body on the other. Like rubbing his chest through the cloth. Nice, real
nice!

     He liked it, too. I felt his cock pressing up against my abdomen, his
knee behind my buttocks was pushing me up against it, and now I knew it was
deliberate.

     "Am I helping you out right?" I asked him as I put my hand inside the
wet rag over one broad breast and gave it a gentle squeeze.

     Dan gasped as I squeezed his tit. "Works for me." he agreed.

     "Is there anything else I can do to help you out here, boss man?" I
asked as I tossed the rag aside and this time applied my hands directly to
those huge breasts of his.

     "I can think of something you can do right now." Dan groaned as I
palped his pecs. "Something I need a lot of help on right now."

     "Sure thing, boss." I agreed. "What do I do first?"

     Dan's response was to grab my head and pull it down to his face and we
kissed. God, a huge hunk of a man and I was kissing him! My every fantasy
made flesh! And I owed it all to dear old Dad!

     The water spilled, thankfully, hadn't gone beyond the cabinet flooring
which was a little raised from the kitchen floor. We had ample room in this
efficiency kitchen to stretch out on it and that's what we did, me on top
of Dan and rubbing and kissing that big strong body of his while his
powerful arms stroked my own body.

     Until I started sliding my way down the chest, kissing as I went. I'd
dried off the water, and the crap suspended in it had all been trapped by
the shirt and tanktop, his body was clean tasting and warm, a bit musky but
nice. I fought the jeans buttons when I got down to them, and then I was
fishing inside the jockstrap he wore beneath that, the majestic rod inside
them pulsing in anticipation of its freedom.

     I brought it out like a huge pink fish into the light and pursed my
lips in admiration. "Damn, man, you got a tool down here, don't you?"

     "What kind of plumber's helper are you going to be, if you can't
handle a pipe when it needs it."

     "Oh, I can handle it all right." I said. "First thing is to get a good
grip on it so I can get to work on it."

     "Let's see you do it." Dan urged me.

     I slid my mouth over the huge, uncut prong, my tongue dug into the
narrow opening at the tip, and Dan moaned as my tongue-tip played over the
sensitive glans underneath.

     "Ah, yeah, Whip, whip that tongue!" Dan urged me.

     I was working my saliva into the opening, this foreskin was tight, I
wasn't that sure I could free up the glans from it, in fact. I'd dealt with
this thing only one time in the past, mind you, I wasn't totally
experienced, but I knew if I could free his foreskin entirely from the
glans, it would slide more effectively over the shaft than if it stayed
locked over the bulb.

     It took some work, but then the glans kind of popped out and the
cockhead, huge and purple and angry looking, was waiting for me. I promptly
resnared it with my lips and Dan panted as I worked the glans, foreskin,
shaft with my mouth. His cock slit oozed gobs of precome that was nectar on
my tongue, delight to my soul.

     "Ah, ah, ah!" Dan grunted and then I felt his body start to move, to
wriggle and writhe. At first I thought it was his pleasure at my sucking,
then I realized he was shifting himself around on the floor.

     I moved myself and met him more than halfway, still above him, him
still on his back, but now he could and did find and start working at my
pants. Unzipping, unbuttoning them, pulling them and the briefs beneath
down, until I was wearing them at mid-thigh.

     I had an erection well before he accomplished all this, of course, so
when he reached for my dong, it was full and engorged and waiting for him
to scarf it down just like he did.

     I had to moan when those warm masculine lips fastened upon my shaft
and I felt my cockhead enclosed by the moist mouth. Dan didn't leave me
dangling, so to speak, he was quick to start moving his head back and
forth, sucking on my pud, giving me the pleasure I was giving him.

     I moaned, but Dan couldn't manage a good rhythm in that position. When
I realized his problem, I shifted over and got myself down onto the floor
beside him, now he could and did rise up and bend his upper body over mine,
and we sucked each other with equal ease.

     I was younger than Dan by well over a decade, when you're nineteen,
the problem is more often to keep from coming than to reach climax. Dan had
my additional attentions to give him a hell of a headstart.

     I felt his cock heating up as I sucked on it, I heard his male throat
vibrating his increasing lust and I knew that I had worked this big, male
man to the point of orgasm.

     That knowledge triggered my own and I was riding the crest of climax
in less time than it takes a surfer to catch and rise up on a wave, and
before Dan could finish his own ride of ecstasy, I hit the peak and could
only groan out a warning before I blasted my teenaged wads down his throat.

     Dan was caught by surprise, but he held on and sucked on me hard and
fast, he was determined to drink down every drop of my hot young come. I
moved on his pud as best I could while I ejaculated, but when it was done,
I had to stop in exhaustion, panting, trying to breathe again.

     Dan didn't hesitate when I stopped, he moved and before I knew it, I
was flat on my own back, Dan straddling my chest and shoving his prong back
into my mouth. His hands caught hold of my head and he began to fuck my
face, his face flushed and intent, his eyes ablaze with his lust. He wasn't
the gentle teacher anymore, he was a lust-crazy male and I was his outlet
and he was going to get off whatever it took. I had a flash of a gorilla on
top of me, humping at me with animal ferocity and single-mindedness.

     I held on best I could and Dan gave a roar and thrust his dong as far
inside me as he could, into my throat and he came. And how he came!

      I was getting a huge load down my throat and swallowing was hard as
hell because his cock was in the upper part of my esophagus. Caught by this
climaxing ape, I could only choke it down as best I could, and it slid
thick and clingy down my throat. It was until Dan finished coming and let
go of me that I could pull back and recover myself, and his last dregs of
jizz landed on my tongue, hot, salty, delicious!

     "Aw, fuck, that was good!" he said to me. "I can see you're going to
be one hell of a handy plumber's helper to have around!"

     "I'll do my best, sir." I agreed, in between coughs as I recovered my
composure.

     "You sound like you need a break." Dan said as he let me up. "Why
don't you take this shirt and tank into the bathroom and wash it out there,
wring it out best you can. This mess is no place to learn how to handle a
disposal installation anyhow."

     "Sounds good to me." I agreed.

     Dan got that disposal done and I handed him back his shirt and tank,
now relatively clean. He pulled them back on and said, "Well, that does it
for the morning's work. Nothing to do now until one o'clock." It was now
only ten-thirty.

     "So what the hell do we do for the next couple of hours?" I
asked. "Sit in the van and play with ourselves."

     Dan stooped and picked up his tool box. "Not any longer, I don't. No,
we find a quiet spot to park and you get to help me out some more."

     And I followed my boss out the door. After all, I was supposed to
learn how to be a plumber's helper!

                             THE END
               Comments, complaints or suggestions?
             E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
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