Shane would have never imagined that the sound of a drill, or a hammer, or whatever the guy was doing down there could ever be considered relaxing, but so far he’d slept in perfectly fine every morning without fail. When he’d come home from college and discovered his parents had hired a contractor to refurbish and expand some of the the downstairs rooms of the house he’d been a bit frustrated at the thought of his chance at summer being ruined by a bunch of noise, but in his bed, all he felt was calm, and relaxed…and kind of horny, actually. Still, that was hardly a surprise–he was twenty and always horny anyway. He jacked off, shooting a load of cum onto his chest and rubbing it in there, before throwing on a shirt and some lounge pants, and then went down to eat some breakfast.
Aside from the contractor, he was alone in the house–as he was every weekday. Both of his parents worked office jobs in city, and were usually gone by the time he woke up each morning, and didn’t get home until around seven in the evening. As much as Shane would have liked to have the house to himself all day–invite around some of the neighborhood girls for a little play, or a little day drinking–the contractor his parents had hired was surprisingly chill, not that Shane was spending much time with him, of course–but the few interactions they’d had, the guy–Roger, was his name–had seemed…kind of nice.
Downstairs, he passed by the room where all the construction racket was coming from–the place seemed like a setting of controlled chaos. He didn’t quite know how the guy managed to get everything done all on his own. Roger saw Shane pass by the doorway, and gave him a wink–kind of weird, but whatever–and Shane went on to the kitchen, and made himself some cereal. After he’d eaten, as he was on his way back up to his room, when Roger called over to him, as he wiped his brow, climbing back down his ladder.
“Hey boy, think you could get me a beer? About time for me to take a break, you know what I mean?”
“Oh, uh…sure…” Shane said, a bit…worried that the contractor might be drinking on the job, but it was probably fine.
“Get yourself one too, boy.”
“Yes sir,” Shane said, and went back to the kitchen, adjusting the front of his pants–a bit confused that he was so hard after just jacking off less than an hour ago–got two cans of beer from inside and took them both into the room. Roger had turned over two buckets and was sitting on one–Shane took the other, and handed one beer to the contractor.
“That’s a good boy.”
Shane shuddered, but didn’t notice. He popped the top of the can and took a sip, but the contractor set his aside a moment, as he pulled a cigar and lighter from his coveralls.
“I…don’t think my parents would want you smoking in here, sir. They don’t like smokers.”
Roger grinned, but lit up anyway. “Have you ever smoked a cigar boy?”
“No sir.”
Roger chuckled. Shane just stared at the end of the cigar, fascinated, dick obviously hard in his pants. It took him a few minutes to realize that cinder had grown a bit while he was sitting there, half his beer was gone, and Roger had been talking his ear off. He was…embarrassed to realize he had no idea what he’d just said. “Sorry I…kind of zoned out for a second, sir. What did you say?”
“I just wanted to know what you do all day around here, boy. Doesn’t seem like you’re doing anything important?”
Shane didn’t really know how to answer that–he was on summer vacation after all–the whole point was to avoid important work, right?
“Didn’t think so. Still, all you do is lounge around here all day–how about you help me out? It’s a big project, after all, and I could use a hand–especially from a strong looking boy like you.”
Shane blushed a bit at the compliment, and supposed it couldn’t hurt. He had always been a bit interested in learning about home improvement, hadn’t he? Of course, his dad always hired people when he needed work done, so he’d never had a chance to learn. When he told Roger this, the man assured him he’d be willing to walk him through everything.
“I guess I could help you out, sir, for a little while.”
“That’s a good boy,” Roger said, and to Shane’s surprise, he felt a small spurt of cum shoot in the front of his loose pants. “We can’t have you working in that shit though. I got something extra I think, though…” he started rummaging through a pile, “Strip out of that shit boy.”
Shane was naked in the middle of the room, before he realized his hard cock was jutting out, head still leaking cum, and he barely even knew this man. Roger looked over at him, cigar clamped in his teeth, and grinned ear to ear at the sight. He tossed Shane a pair of coveralls. “Haven’t washed these one’s yet, but you don’t mind, right boy?”
“No sir,” Shane said, eager to put anything on at all. The coveralls were…heady with musk, and still a bit damp with sweat, but he pulled them on anyway, and zipped them up. They were…roomy, but the contractor was quite a bit heavier than Shane, probably around 300 pounds, even if they were the same height more or less.
Roger tossed his socks next, and the brought over a pair of work boots. “Steel toes–gotta have ‘em boy. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself, right?”
“No sir,” Shane said, and pulled them on too. The absurdity of it stuck out to him a bit, but the boots fit well enough, and before he could really question any of it, Roger started barking orders at him, and Shane did his best to keep up, even if all he was really doing was running and fetching, and lighting Roger’s cigars, of course. A boy has to know how to light Sir’s cigars, right?
Bracken's Corner 