Date: Tue, 19 Sep 2006 10:36:59 -0700 (PDT)
From: Gunter Ragen <gruntraq@yahoo.com>
Subject: Concrete Crew 1

This is a true set of circumstances with a
fictionalized result. Names have been changed.

Concrete Crew 1 - By Grunraq

It was the summer of 1999 and I was living in a brand
new apartment complex in Rocklin, California. They
were a beige cell-block style design not unlike the
rest that dotted the landscape of the area, no
character no soul. My time there was only temporary
while my new house was under construction, but I'll
never forget that summer.

One of the first things I noted when I was moved in
was the rough looking studs that arrived each
afternoon from work together in a group of orange
company work trucks. A new set of freeway bridges were
being built nearby and a company from Washington state
had been contracted to build it. The apartment complex
where I was living had rented a number of furnished
apartments to the company to house their crews while
they were in town.

One group of them had the unit next to mine, others
were spread throughout the complex. The three guys
next door were drop dead strapping studs. It wasn't
that they were model material, it was more their
"blue-collar Joe" persona that got me really. It only
took me a week to get into the habit of watching them
pull in each day and dismount from their F-350 Super
Duty trucks, shining with sweat. There uniform was
typical -  sweaty orange work shirts, sometimes none,
faded jeans and tan leather work boots. They usually
bounded out of the trucks with their lunch chests, a
case of beer and sacks of groceries. To smell steaks
on the BBQ and hear them partying loud several times a
week had become routine.

On some weekends I would see them pack up their bags
and take off, presumably to visit family back home.
They were obviously making pretty good money as one of
them, their foreman went out and bought a ski-boat
which was promptly parked in front my apartment. While
I bitched about having one less space to fight over,
it was great to watch seven or eight of their buff
tanned frames loading up the boat and handling their
gear a couple times a week.

While I had exchanged nods and hellos in the parking
lot, it was a month before I finally had the occasion
to introduce myself . I was on the way back down the
path from getting my mail one Saturday afternoon and
they were drinking beer and cooking up some steaks on
their patio. They'd been out to the lake with the boat
and were all wearing shorts and flip flops, half
drunk, maybe sunburned and in a good mood. The guy who
I had assumed to be the boss, was about 30ish, maybe
185 lbs and built like the guys you typically see
wearing the orange vests - stacked. We exchanged
glances as I approached and he said, "Hey there
neighbor, want a beer?"

I accepted and introduced myself. Handing me a
dripping icy bottle of Bud from the chest, he said
,"I'm John." Pointing to the other two guys he said,
"This is Steve and Tony". They both nodded at me and
held out their hands. Steve was a blond haired guy
with an average build. He had a short crew-cut and
looked pretty natural in a tank  top. Tony was the guy
who had my attention. He was shorter and looked
younger, maybe 24-25 year old. He was about 5'-8" and
very much Italian. He had short black curly hair and a
tightly cut mustache and goatee - obviously a work of
pride he maintained meticulously. His upper torso had
a most pronounced "V" shape. Though he was not overtly
muscular, it was more a natural form. A light line of
hair ran down his bare chest into his shorts. I had to
work at not staring at him.

They were both friendly and shook my hand. Steve got
back to flipping a steak and Tony lit a cigarette as
my attention fell back on the boss - dark haired,
rough shaven and goateed John. He had that alpha-male
quality to him that is probably why he is the foreman.
Starting right into a conversation that lasted for
over an hour, I asked him, "So how do you like that
boat?" Shooting it with the guys over a number of
beers I learned that that John oversaw the crew of a
dozen guys on the project all of whom were living at
the complex. They had been here for about 6 weeks and
had another 8 to go. Steve and Tony also help ran the
crews, John`s assistant superintendents.

Hours later I had become their new fast friend,
telling them about some of the better hot spots in the
area to go party, go boating, and have a good time.
People always like a good tour guide right? They
invited me to stay and have a steak and more beers. It
was not long before they were getting trashed, and I
was starting to as well.  I had been copping looks on
Tony most of the night. He was hot. The other two guys
were lookers too, but Tony was giving me reason to
swell. They way he moved, his athletic build, hmmmmm
this slab of manliness was killing me. He was a
character too, passively flirtatious in the way he
flaunted himself. Many times he dropped comments into
the conversation about his wielding cock or his sex
escapades with women. Not only was I thinking about
his cock, but sinking mine into his tight ass.

John's cell phone rang and he stepped away for a
couple minutes. Steve and Tony commented to each other
 about wishing they were getting stoned. I perked up
and asked, "You guys get high?" Steve looked at me and
replied, "Yeah, you have any?" I was distracted
fleetingly as I watched Tony digging his hand into his
Bermuda shorts and readjusting his package. Damn! "Um,
yeah weed." I stumbled. "Yeah actually I do have some
of the mean green". My eyes returned to Tony's cock
and balls clearly outlined through his thin fabric
shorts while the Italian  handled himself. He must not
be wearing any underwear I thought.  Steve turned
around noting Tony resituating his cock. Steve nodded
in embarrassment, "He always has his hands in his
pants, don't worry about him". Tony pulled his hands
from his crotch and motioned them in retreat, "Sorry,
I got fuckin sand from the beach grinding at my
balls". I smiled at them both, "So you guys want to
light up then?"

Excited like a couple of kids, they both answered
"Hell yeah!" almost in unison. John came bounding out
the door with more beers to dump into the ice-chest
"What's all the excitement about boys?" Steve turned
to him and said, "Our neighbor here is going to smoke
us up". John looked back at me as a glaze came over
his eyes and he smiled wide with excitement.  "Right
fucking on man!"

I went to my place and grabbed my buds and some papers
and returned to their apartment. We all sat in the
small living room while I twisted up a nice fat
hooter. The TV blared some old sitcom while we toked
the joint down to a nub. After a short time zoning,
John and Steve soon ended up going to the kitchen to
clean up the dinner mess leaving Tony and I in the
living room. We were situated on opposite sofas and
Tony was leaning back stroking his lightly haired
stomach and chest with his hand, reveling in his high.
"This is good weed man, thanks for lighting us up man"
he smiled as he said. "No problem." I replied. He
rolled his head back on the top of the sofa and closed
his eyes in pleasure, the sexiness of his body
radiated at me like the sun. His cleft chin was keenly
spit with a nice tightly trimmed growth of thick
facial hair accenting it. The other two guys were
oblivious, talking to one another in the kitchen as I
admired Tony's studliness. I just sat there in my own
high zoning at the TV and glancing over at Tony. He
appeared to be floating off in his own world .

His head laid back facing the ceiling,  I caught him
slightly crack his eyes open to a sliver. He looked at
me discretely. His hand continued to caress his abs
slowly.  I looked away at first, not wanting to be
caught leering at him but I soon realized that we was
peeking over at me occasionally to see if I was
watching him. Steve and John were now sitting at the
kitchen table engulfed in a conversation and were in
their own sphere. I continued to gaze at Tony. His
hand crept slowly down his stomach into his shorts and
he longingly handled his meat. As I watched him, his
eyes cracked open fleetingly catching me watching.
Before I could look away, he slowly let a wry smile
form across his face and sunk his hand deeper into his
pants. I could tell he was getting a massive bone down
there while his hand meandered behind it pushing it
out in view. My aloof glances had changed to a
relaxed, stoned stare as I realized I was getting a
willing show from this Italian stud.

About that time, a knock came at the door and John
jumped up to answer. It was a some of the other
company guys. They were all in swimming trunks and had
towels around their necks. John looked at his watch as
they came in saying, "Shit where'd the time go! Let us
get our towels real quick"  Tony's hand had recoiled
at the door knock and he sat up, obviously trying to
let his meat shrink a bit before getting up. One of
the company guys looked around the room sniffing at
the air and looking at me funny. "Something smells
good in here", he remarked. I just smiled.

Steve looked at me and said, "We're all going down to
the spa for a while, do you want to come?" While it
sounded good to hop into a big tub with all these
studs I was too buzzed for it and was afraid I would
be the only one with a fat woody the whole time. So I
told them I'd pass this time, that I really should get
back home anyway. Tony looked at me for a minute and
turned to the other guys saying he too was going to
pass on the spa. "I'm too fucked up guys, I think I'm
just gonna crash", he said to them. "Shit man you'll
be passed out right there on the couch when we get
back", Steve chided. The guy who sniffed the pot in
the air looked at me devilishly and nodded knowing we
were all stoned as shit.

John and Steve both went down the hall and came back
with towels and the group of men began leaving. I
asked Tony if I could use their bathroom. "Yup, right
down the hall", he said. "I'll be right here, not
moving ". I got up and went to take a piss as the last
of them left and shut the door. After letting out a
good long whiz I contemplated jacking off there in
their bathroom as some of their underwear and dirty
clothing was laying about. But I wanted to get back
and see Tony.

Continued in Concrete Crew Part 2