BETWEENMEN by Tavish

PLOWING FRESH GROUND
     
    It was the middle of July, and I was sitting on my porch in bare feet, a t-shirt, and shorts. I wasn’t just enjoying the warm weather, though. As usual, I had my laptop open on and my brain in overdrive, trying to come up with a viable solution to my company’s latest budgetary crisis. My absorption in my work was almost enough to make me forget that it had been weeks since I’d had anything sexier than a self-starter hand-job.
    I looked up when my porch steps creaked and a shadow dropped across my computer screen. When my eyes focused on the guy standing in front of me, my jaw just about hit the keyboard. At first I figured the hot sun and hard work had finally melted my brain!
    What I thought I saw was a twentyish guy wearing nothing but a pair of faded, paper-thin cutoffs and a gold neck chain. His smooth chest and lanky arms and legs shimmered nut-brown in the sun, perfectly setting off his gleaming white-blond hair. When he flashed me a lopsided grin, my cock started to drool like one of Pavlov’s mutts.
    Even more amazing, he knew my nickname.
    “Hey, Dan,” he began casually, then frowned at my obvious confusion. “It’s me, Jason. From down the street, you know?”
    All I could do was blink. “Jason Brooks?” I hadn’t known the Brookses well, but from what I remembered, their son Jason was a chubby high school kid with braces and a homestyle buzz cut. Then again, I hadn’t seen much of him in the past year or two. He must have graduated from high school by now—hell, maybe he’d even started college for all I knew.
    “I’m not surprised you didn’t recognize me right away. I’ve changed a lot since graduation. Working out and stuff, you know.”
    Jason’s smile widened, and his tits, dark and succulent as Hershey’s kisses, swelled as he thrust his chest forward proudly. The mound at the front of his thin cut-offs shifted, too. Was it my imagination, or did the brass button at the waist look like it was ready to pop open?
    “Anyway, the reason I’m here is that I’m trying to earn some spending money—you know, mowing lawns, weeding gardens, stuff like that.” Jason surveyed my ragged lawn, strewn with dandelions and crabgrass. “You look like you could use a hand in that department.”
    Screw the lawn , I thought. I want a hand with the fat throbber between my legs. I almost said it out loud. Instead, I found myself handing Jason the keys to my tool shed.
    Though I would rather have been inside the house, splitting that perfect bubble butt of his with my aching prong, there were some advantages to watching him mow the lawn. My laptop went into sleep mode from being ignored too long, but I didn’t care. It provided the perfect cover while I sat riveted to the spectacle of him prancing around three-quarters naked, his muscles straining and his back and shoulders streaked with sweat.
    I sure had to give the dude credit. He couldn’t have put on a more effective cocktease if he’d peeled off those skimpy shorts and started humping the lawnmower handle. Yet there was something so natural and innocent about his movements—about his whole attitude—that told me he was totally oblivious to the effect he was having on me.
    Finally, he came back to the house begging for a cold drink.
    “Come on in, Jason.” In my air-conditioned kitchen, he leaned against the cupboards while I tossed him an icy can of cola. I watched him guzzle it, fighting the urge to reach over and settle my hand on the lump in his shorts. Instead, I rolled my fist back and forth over my own bulging crotch.
    All of a sudden, Jason gulped down the last of the cola and set the can in the sink. His eyes focused slowly on my middle, and I saw his Adam’s Apple bob when he swallowed hard.
    “That’s...that’s quite a bone you’ve got there, Dan,” he mumbled.
    At first, I tried to laugh the whole thing off. “Can’t help it. Watching you out there got me more hot and bothered than the weather.”