Date: Sat, 8 Nov 2014 20:32:19 -0500
From: Milford Slabaugh <tommyhawk1@aol.com>
Subject: Talking With Larry

			    TALKING WITH LARRY
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     "When are you going to fix the rain gutters?" Marianne asked me the
moment I came down for breakfast. She flopped my plate of eggs and bacon
down, she'd made it for me ahead of time, I hate that! The eggs get cold
and the bacon gets greasy-tasting. I touched an egg yolk with my
fingers. Still warm, at least. I began to mash the eggs into a mess,
stirring them as I did. Eggs over easy are best that way, you end up with
some pliable chunks of egg white smeared with yolk for every bite. I
finished, tore a piece of toast in half, levered a glob of the eggs onto it
and took a big bite.
     "I said." Marianne barked right in my ear, loud. Hurt like hell! "When
are you going to fix the rain gutters?"
     "Later this weekend." I told her. "Not right now. I'm eating
breakfast, if you'll let me!"
     "You've been promising to fix those rain gutters all summer long!"
     "It's hasn't rained more than twice since May!"
     "But it's about to start raining a lot!" Marianne wasn't going to let
me eat a single fucking bite in peace! "It could start tomorrow, they're
saying there's a chance of rain and if you don't get it done today...."
     So I threw down my half-eaten toast and fork onto the plate and stood
up. "I'm going to go talk to Larry!" I declared.
     "Again with Larry!" Marianne switched arguments easily. "You spend
more time with him than you do with me! What's he got that I don't got?"
     "The ability to keep his mouth shut!" I snapped back at her. "And let
me eat breakfast in peace!"
     "You're impossible!" Marianne threw her hands up in the air,
theatrically, and changed the subject once more. "When are you going to
take me out to dinner again? We haven't gotten out alone together in over
two months."
     "That's not the only thing we haven't gotten alone together for in
over two months." I grumbled. "Which is why I haven't taken you out to
dinner!" I added viciously.
     The sound of children's voices alerted both of us, and I shut up and
so did Marianne. The reason I was still sticking with the bitch came
tromping into the room. Six children. Four of them were ours, Teresa had a
friend staying over and Edward's friend, a next-door neighbor kid, Ron, had
dropped by way early as usual, to mooch breakfast and get a start on the
weekend. They were all between the ages of twelve and three and I was ready
to walk on coals to take care of them. So Marianne and I weren't getting a
divorce any time soon.
     So I sat back down and Marianne started dishing out scrambled eggs to
the kids and I ate my eggs in peace...if you call the racket of six kids
including two pairs of good friends "peace." Done, I stood up and said
again, "I'm going to go talk with Larry. I'll get to those rain gutters
this afternoon."
     I tried for a kiss, but Marianne turned away and I ended up with a
mouth full of her hair. Teresa and Patricia saw this and giggled. I got the
hell out of there before I broke our rule about fighting in front of the
children!
     Larry's house was across the street and down the block, but when I got
there I didn't try the front door, I went around to the side. Next to the
garage was a second garage bay which was facing the solid wooden wall
dividing Larry's lot from his neighbor's. Parking in this garage with
anything bigger than a motorcycle was an exercise in frustration (requiring
multiple reverses-and-forwards), unless you used it the way Larry did,
which was for the car he was working on. Larry supplemented his income by
working on old cars, fixing them, restoring them, and so on. I could always
find him on the weekend in this garage bay, working on one of his cars. His
wife spent all her weekends out of town at her mother's (or so she said, I
personally think she was sleeping around on him, not that I said
anything). It left Larry's place a haven from the stresses of womenfolk and
you can see that was something I needed a lot. I had another reason, too.
     I got there and at first I didn't see Larry at all. Sometimes he was
out, at the auto parts store buying something. His refrigerator was in the
back, loaded with beer. So I headed back there to get a beer and that's
when I saw him. He was lying on his back underneath the old Buick he had in
there, a large square of tarp warding his butt from the concrete and the
oil stains there. I'd been there when he'd been worming that big car into
that garage bay, it was a case of turning the car an inch at a time and
even then, it barely made it. I'd joked after that it would be easier to
hire four or five guys to just pick up the car and carry it back outside
when he was done working on it. His answer was better, to get it out, he
said, he would take off the front and rear bumpers, thus cutting the car's
length nearly nine inches. I told him that would have sounded a lot smarter
if he'd come up with it before we'd done all the back-and-forwarding. He
answered the way a guy answers that, he said I should go fuck myself!
     "Hey, Neill." came Larry's voice from under the Buick.
     "Hey, Larry." I said back to him. "Getting a beer." I opened the
fridge. I was telling him, not asking him. I contributed regularly to the
refrigerator, I was entitled to a beer whenever I wanted on. "You want
one?" I asked him after I'd taken a hefty series of chugs from it.
     "Nah, I'm good." He said.
     Larry was wearing only a tanktop cut off at the midriff and a pair of
shorts made from cutting the legs off of some old jeans. He'd cut them
pretty close to the crotch. Which was like Larry, once you knew him, he
loved wearing clothing that was only barely decent. His body let him get
away with it, for Larry's muscles were the sort that artists paint over and
over again on church ceilings. Thick bulging orbs of biceps, globes of
shoulders, blocks of pecs, half an egg carton of abs below the tanktop, the
thighs thick as watermelons above the knee, the calves the size of most
men's legs. All that was splayed out on the concrete floor as he fought
something in the car's underbelly. Too far back for the engine but not far
back enough to be mid-car, maybe he was working on the wiring. Not that I
cared, that was his car, if he wanted my help on it, he'd ask.
     "So how's Marianne?" he asked me.
     "The same old, same old." I said. "Still after me to fix the rain
gutters."
     "It hasn't rained much in months."
     "That's what I keep telling her. Doesn't work." I got down on the
concrete floor next to him. Knocked back more of the beer, more than
half-finishing it. Set the can down on the floor away from me.
     "She still cutting you off?"
     "Same as yours." I told him. "Only yours leaves you alone. Mine
bitches at me every chance she gets. Any time the kids aren't around, she
lays into me."
     "Bummer."
     "I'm thinking of duct-taping the youngest one to my stomach all
weekend." I concluded. "It'd keep her damned yap shut."
     "Let me know how that turns out." was Larry's response.
     "I sure will." I said as I put my hand on his inner leg. God, he was
hairy-legged. His chest, too, had plenty of hair on it, not that it didn't
look right for him.
     I ran my hand up and down that thigh, the hairs tickling my palm as I
slid it across that muscled expanse. Larry just grunted as I did that,
shifted one leg and one of his balls popped out the bottom of the
shorts. It was the same side as the thigh I was working on, so I moved my
hand on up and gripped the testicle, not hard, just capturing it and
feeling it in my hand.
     "That bad, huh?" was Larry's only response.
     "Yeah." I said. I began to fish the rest of his package out of those
shorts through the leg. I knew they'd come out of there like this, they
always had before. When I had his dong outside, I began to pump on it, a
few strokes and he was stiffening up nicely.
     "Mmm, I love how you do that." Larry told me. "If Jodi handled me half
as well, man, I'd be one happily married man!"
     "Me, too." I agreed and I leaned over and placed my mouth over his
prong. Larry always tasted at his best on a Saturday morning, not squeaky
clean nor funky-sweaty, just a sort of in-between that made tasting his
cock a flavorful, luscious, sensual experience. I got a dose of pheromones
off his glands that triggered something deep and animal inside my brain,
and I began to suck on him, my head bobbing up and down in a smooth, slow
rhythm, not trying to drive him crazy with speed and not making him suffer
from my slowness, just bringing him slowly upwards in his desire, awakening
his passions a little at a time.
     "Mmmmh! Uhhhhh!" Larry grunted and one of his grease-smeared palms
came over and found my leg, gripped it. He began squirming out from under
the Buick and I let him, and soon he was underneath me, his head between my
legs and he was working at getting my pants undone. I'd picked this pair of
pants for this reason, a simple clasp and a zipper, and they were loose on
me, too. And no underwear, when Larry unzipped my fly and dug inside, he
found a hard salami in there waiting for him!
     We began to work each other in earnest and when I was as warmed up as
he was, he let go and said, "Okay, man, I'm ready."
     "Me, too." I panted. "Come on, let's do this. I got to fix rain
gutters this afternoon."
     "Fucking gutters." Larry agreed. "You got the lube?"
     "In my pants pocket. Left one." I told him.
     He fished it out and I got onto all fours for him, my pants down below
my knees. Larry liked to do it rough so I held on while he got behind me,
his cock now sticking out of his own open fly on those shorts, and gleaming
with lube catching the morning sunlight, and then he was shoving that prong
right up my ass.
     "Agh, ah, ah, God damn it, Larry!" I groaned as he shoved that huge
pud up my bunghole. "Shit, that fucker's so hard, it hurts!"
     "Shut up and take it, man, you know you love it." Larry growled. "I
been fucking waiting all week for this. Damn, man, you got to come over
more often!"
     "I can't, damn it!" I grunted. "Oh, God, man, that cock of yours is
splitting me open. Come on, shove it on in, man, get it over with! I need
to be fucked, man, I need to be fucked hard!"
     "I'm getting it in you! Ah, ah, ah, ahhhh! There, now I'm inside
you. All the way in!"
     "Yeah, man, yeah!" I growled. "Come on, now, get to fucking me. Fuck
me hard enough to make me want to fix fucking rain gutters, man!"
     Larry rose up onto the balls of his feet and squatting over me, began
to slam his cock into me, hard like I wanted. Oh, man, that man could fuck
when he wanted to! If I'd been Jodi, I'd have been riding this cock every
night and morning, and five times on weekends! I lived for this time, when
I could come over here and Larry would be here, just him and me, and we
could fuck each other senseless!
     Like Larry was fucking me now! He was ramming me so hard he was
shaking me with every thrust, and then he threw his head back and roared
and his cock blew a load into me so hard it was like being punched in the
ass! I felt the hot seething wads bubbling in my butt and I moaned, shit, I
was so hot now, so fucking hot!
     Larry sat back on the tarp and panted and I felt his spunk dribbling
out of my ravaged ass. I growled, hot as hell and I turned and pounced on
the guy. Fought those shorts off those thick legs and threw them to one
side. Then I squirted lube on my prick. Larry was strong enough to kick my
ass if he'd wanted to, instead, he lay there and let me push him into
position, his legs on my shoulders and his back arched up mostly off the
concrete, only head and upper shoulders touching the tarp, and I drove my
schlong into him, hard as I could.
     "Ahhhh, ahh-AHHHHH!" Larry moaned as I rammed into him. "Shit, dude,
you're so fucking hard! You about ready to come?"
     "Damned close!" I panted. "But I'm damned if I'm going to before I
fuck you and fuck you good first!"
     "Then lay it on!" Larry grunted.
     I began to fuck that hairy ass of him and Larry watched me as I
hammered at his butt. God, this man could dish it out, but he could take
it, too! Fuck, this stud loved fucking, both ramming and being rammed! I
plunge-fucked him and when my climax hit me, he just laughed at how I
scrunched up my face in my pleasure-agony and I squirted my jizz into him,
a huge load that I'd been saving up since last Saturday, and then it was
over, and I was done, panting, moaning, slumping down, oh, God, so good, so
fucking good!
     I came back to myself after a moment, and found myself resting my head
on Larry's strong, broad chest. I wished I could lie like this forever. But
I remembered, as I always did, that I had a wife and children back home,
who needed me and depended on me, and I had to be there for them. I wasn't
going to be the dad who left them to fend for themselves. I couldn't do
that to them. And thanks to Larry, I didn't need to be that kind of dad.
     Still, I spent some time with Larry after that, helping a bit with the
Buick but mostly just sitting and talking and drinking beer. Soon, too
soon, it was almost one o'clock and I said my farewell and wended back
home, leaving Larry lying underneath the car as before.
     Marianne was actually civil to me when I got there. "Lunch will be
ready in a few moments." she said, then hesitated. "You know, if you want
to put off those gutters a while longer, I guess it won't matter."
     "It's okay." I said. "I'll go ahead and get them put in shape this
afternoon. Won't take more than an hour or so, I guess. And tonight, what
say you and I hire a sitter and we go out for dinner and a movie or
something?"
     "I'd like that." Marianne smiled at me. "I'll see if I can get Barbara
to come over." She came over and put her hands on my shoulders, from
behind. "You know, honey, you're always in such a good mood after you go
over to Larry's. Maybe you should talk with Larry every day."
     "Maybe I should." I agreed.

				  THE END
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