Hot Technician #5 **HOT TECHNICIAN
Copyright © 2006
By Lee Mariner**
This is a gay fantasy that is intended for ADULT READERS only. If you are not of legal age in your locality to be reading this story or should you not approve of such material, please leave.
This work is copyrighted by the author, and it is not to be copied, reproduced, posted or archived by any person or on any web site without the specific written authorization of the author. All Rights are reserved.
Comments and suggestions are appreciated, and may be forwarded by using, mariner23502@hotmail.com
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Jacuzzi Technician
It was my neighbor installing an above ground swimming pool, followed by the seemingly constant cleaning and maintenance that convinced me not to install a full sized pool. Mo Caruthers, my neighbor, seemingly spent every weekend, along with a few days during the week, when she was cleaning the pool, scrubbing the deck, skimming leaves, adding chemicals and generally involved in a cleaning ritual, was more than enough of a deterrent to installing something that appeared to be more work than play.
For all of that, I still wanted something that I could stretch out and relax in. One evening while stretched out all but naked in my recliner, wearing only my dressing gown, and watching the re-runs of one of my favorite programs, The Golden Girls, a commercial outlining the health benefits of installing an easily affordable "hot tub" came on the screen. Usually when a commercial is displayed, I hit the mute button and head for the fridge for a beer or the head to take a leak, but this time I stopped in my tracks and listened, stunned by the vision of magnificent male loveliness that filled the screen.
The half-naked salesman sitting in a steaming, bubbling jacuzzi hot tub with what appeared to be a bottle of John Adams Winter Lager in one hand, and a glass in the other, was loudly rattling off his spiel about the benefits of the amazing water wonder he was enjoying. I'm a Bud man myself, but it wasn't the beer or the sales pitch that attracted me, it was the gorgeous, black-haired, beautifully muscled, bare-chested Adonis that was making the pitch. He didn't need to sell beer or hot tubs to get my attention, he could have been promoting sanitary napkins on Mars, and I would have stopped whatever it was that I was doing, and listened, my normal level of testosterone increasing as I fantasized about being in the hot swirling water with him. "Good, God...," I murmured, slipping my hand between the folds of my robe and gripping my hardening cock.
"Hello, neighbors, this is Clark Masters, and you too can enjoy the pleasure and benefits of your own twenty-two jet Jacuzzi for a cost much lower than you might think," he said, seeming not to stop to breath as words poured rapid-fire from his full, succulent lips. "Today, Venetian Pools and Spas is, in addition to a forty-percent discount on our popular five-person model, we are making a fantastic one time only offer to the first twelve people that call the toll free number that is flashing on your screen. The usual in-home service fee of eighty-five dollars will be waived, and one of our highly qualified technicians will visit your home at absolutely no cost to you, if you are one of the first twelve callers. Our technician will, in the privacy of your home, discuss the various Jacuzzis that we have available in an almost unlimited variety of colors and style combinations. He will discuss with you, the best location within your home, or if it is possible to be installed indoors as well as outside if you should desire one of our in-deck models. The possibilities are almost unlimited, and only your imagination will restrict what our staff at Venetian Pools and Spas can do for you. Remember, we can make this offer to only the first twelve people that call. So, this is Clark Master saying, please, don't miss out on this fantastic one time offer. Call the toll free number flashing at the bottom of your television screen."
The Golden Girls flashed back on the screen as, cursing under my breath, I stumbled over a large leather ottoman in my haste to call the number that Clark Masters had insisted needed to be called immediately in order to be one of the first twelve. Behind me as I punched the number into the phone, I heard Rose ask, "Oh, my, Sophia, what are you cooking that smells so good?" "My famous Sicilian spaghetti sauce," Sophia replied in her cavalier fashion just as a sensuous, mellow voice spoke in my ear, "Congratulations, this is Venetian Pools and Spas, and you have qualified for our fantastic television offer. Please stay on the line, and an associate will be with you shortly."
"Jesus Christ," I shouted to no one in particular. I despise being placed on hold, and I hesitated between slamming the phone down or waiting as instructed, on the almost impossible chance that it would be Clark Masters who would answer my call.
After several seconds, I was on the verge of depressing the "off button" when the cry, "you might as well stick it in my heart, Rose," emanating from the television diverted my attention momentarily, and in that brief moment of hesitation, I heard a voice saying, "This is Carl Masters speaking. I apologize for the delay in answering your call. Please allow me to congratulate you on qualifying for our forty percent discounted price offer and waiver of the in-home service fee. I'll be happy to answer any questions that you may have but, if not, when may I schedule a technician to visit your home?"
"I...,I don't know, how about tomorrow?" I stammered, my mind trying to correlate the mention of the name 'Carl and Clark'.
The was a low chuckle on the line, and then the well modulated, baritone voice said, "I don't' think we can make it quite that quickly Mr....,Mr?"
Like an idiot, I was caught between squeezing my hard cock while trying to envision what the person to whom I was listening looked like, and answering the telephone. "Oh, I'm sorry," I stammered, "my name is Holliman, Bert Holliman."
"It's a pleasure, Mr. Holliman," the mellow voice replied, chuckling softly. "I'm afraid we cannot make it tomorrow, but instead of tomorrow, would this coming Thursday be convenient for you, say between nine and eleven in the morning or would that be to early?"
Listening to the smooth sensual cadence of the mellow baritone voice, my gaydar kicked in. A feeling of excitement washed over me, and there was the familiar tingling excitement in my groin with the feeling of pre-cum ascending the hard length of my cock. I was trying to connect the sensuality of the voice with the gorgeous image that had been shown on the television screen. The stumbling block that had me confused was the telephone voice replying 'Carl' and not 'Clark',
"Any time this Thursday will be fine, I'm usually home alone most of the day so the time is unimportant," I replied, somewhat absentmindedly, not giving any thought to having said that I was 'usually home alone'. My thoughts were involved in trying to figure out if there was any possible relationship between the names - one who was shown on television and the other the owner of the mellow voice at the other end of the telephone line. The electrifying feelings in my loins, plus being horny from a recent lack of sex was not helping the confusing situation. A little voice in the recesses of my brain cut through the testosterone induced confusion mixed with lust, "Get over it Holliman, not every stud you see or hear is gay."
The soft mellow voice asking for my address and telephone number cut through the self-induced fog, and I quickly replied, giving him my Garfield Drive address, and telephone number, commenting that there was an answering service if for some reason I had to leave and, he should need to call.
"I don't think we will have any problems, Mr. Holliman," the voice of the invisible, sensuous, yet sexy sounding, "I-want-him-to-be, hope-he-will-be- the-visiting-technician Adonis said after repeating the information that I had given him with what I thought was a suggestive emphasis on the last two numbers of the address when he said, "sixty-nine". My cock really jumped when, severing the connection, he said, "I have several satisfied clients, and I'm sure that I won't have any trouble satisfying you, Mr. Holliman."
I stood motionless for several seconds holding the dead telephone received in my hand, pre-seminal fluid dripping from my cock. Throwing my loose robe open with my free hand as I thumbed the 'off' button and dropped the telephone, I grabbed my throbbing cock. While trying to visualize the muscular body of Clark Masters, and comparing it to what I thought the mellow voiced Carl Masters might look like, I brought myself to a cataclysmic climax. Thick gobs of hot, sticky sperm covered the hard, smoothly sculpted muscles of my chest, flowing in a rivulet downward between ripped abdominal muscles, into the dense hair of the silky brown bush surrounding the thick base of my cock. Momentarily exhausted, my straining muscles slowly relaxed as I gasped for air, my right hand slowly stroking and squeezing the sperm slick, cleanly circumcised length of my softening cock.
I felt the sperm covering my chest slowly running down my ribs, and grabbing a handful of tissues from the box on the table beside my recliner, I managed to catch most of it. With only minimal movement I sat up, shrugging the robe off of my shoulders, holding it away from my body in the crook of my elbows as I went into the bathroom, and flushed the sperm soaked tissue down the toilet. Rinsing the sticky residue from my hands, I dried them, and then discarded the robe before opening the door, and stepping inside the glass enclosed shower. Turning on the water and adjusting its temperature before stepping under it, thoughts of what my phantom technician would hopefully look like raced through my head. The warm mellow voice that had made the appointment, combined with the mental picture of the magnificently muscled Adonis sitting in a hot tub, sent erotic chills through me, and my cock began swelling and hardening as I conjured up a fantasy of him as my technician, his hot body touching mine, his huge cock a steel hard javelin penetrating the quivering entrance to my rectum. I felt the sperm rising with each thrust of his mammoth tool, and my muscles tightening as he emptied his seed in the depth of my hot bowels. "Oh, Jesus," I groaned loudly, as my cock exploded, spewing thick ropes of sperm onto the glass shower walls.
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My work as a intern stock-broker for one of the larger brokerages was usually interesting, and the days flew by; but Monday through Wednesday, following my telephone conversation with an erotically arousing faceless voice, combined with the sexually inspiring vision of a living Adonis, seemed to drag. I had plenty of vacation time coming to me, and I asked for Thursday and Friday off, figuring that it didn't make any sense to take Thursday off. and return to work on Friday, when it could be made into a long weekend.
Waiting Wednesday for the clock to signal the end of the working day was worse than the previous Monday or Tuesday, and I could feel the testosterone racing through my veins. It was difficult to suppress the feelings of anticipation and desire, and I spent a good part of the day with my hard cock hidden in the leg well of my desk. When knock-off time finally came, I closed my files, and gave a couple of data-sheets with several active quotes I was working on to Melvin Miller, one of my colleagues. Without waiting to hear his usual voluble words of thanks, I bolted from the office with one hand in my pocket suppressing my pre-seminal leaking cock.
The Golden Girls aired every day at six o-clock in the evening, and as soon as I got home, I turned the television on hoping that the Venetian Pools and Spas commercial would be aired. I was disappointed again, as I had been all week, and I was thinking, "maybe they won't show up".
After, eating a microwave-able Hungry Man roast beef dinner, I watched some television before showering and turning in, hoping I would be able to sleep. Unfortunately, most of the night was spent tossing and turning from fear induced thoughts of no one showing up, mixing with visions of gorgeous half-naked Clark Masters until exhausted, I finally fell asleep somewhere between three and four in the morning.
I slept fitfully and the exotic sexual dreams did nothing to assist in getting any rest. I was on the verge of an intense nocturnal emission when my dream was interrupted by a loud banging noise. Even though I reluctantly awoke, the intense feelings in my loins almost succeeded in exploding forth, forcing my lungs to expand automatically and I gripped my throbbing cock, the feeling of fire racing upward from my tight testicles. My cock wanted to explode, and my body demanded the orgasm but the loud banging at the front of the house increased, and I jumped out of bed, grabbing my robe and throwing it over my nakedness, hardon and all, I raced to the front door glancing at the den clock which read, eight-fifty o'clock, ten minutes before the appointed time for the Jacuzzi technician to arrive.
Unlocking the door and throwing the dead bolt, I opened the door, and on the other side of the glass storm door stood Clark or Carl Masters, I didn't know which but, seeing my surprised look, my visitor answered the question.
"Mr. Hollman, Carl Masters," he said, a subdued but obvious smile of amusement playing at the corners of his lips as his eyes surveyed the situation I was in. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said in the soft mellow voice that I had heard on the telephone. "We did, I believe, have an appointment for this morning," He finished saying, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
The voice was mesmerizing, but the young man standing on the other side of the glass was stunningly handsome. His close cropped black wavy hair was coifed in a conservative business style that enhanced his classic Greek features. His eyes were a bright sea-green similar to the waters surrounding islands of the Aegean Sea. Partially parted succulent, carmine red lips revealed gleaming, milk white teeth and the pink tip of his tongue. I could feel the blood pounding in my temples, and my cock hardening as my eyes deliberately scanned the broad width of his shoulders, his tight light blue, zipper front, short sleeve shirt clinging to the muscles of his magnificently sculpted and defined torso. His muscles flowed smoothly, tapering to his small waist, merging with narrow hips and thick thigh muscles with beautifully shaped calves. The short sleeves of his shirt revealed biceps that were full but not bulging, and there was a light growth of silky fine hair on the upper side of his thick forearms. A string style plaited leather belt knotted off to the side revealed the flatness of his stomach, and cream colored slacks hinted at the muscled thickness of his thighs. Black, web style sandals along with a black leather portfolio completed his stylish but tasteful ensemble.
My heart was pounding with the force of jungle drums, and my breathing was become more labored as I wrestled with the erotic thoughts that were swirling within the almost surreal atmosphere that seemingly engulfed us, particularly me. I couldn't take my eyes off of this magnificent specimen of maleness, and my throat was dry to the point that I could not speak but, swallowing several times I generated sufficient saliva, and managed to croak an answer to his assertion that we had an appointment, "Yes, we did, Mr. Masters, please accept my apologies. I'm afraid I overslept this morning," I said, attempting to regain my composure and avoid feeling extremely foolish.
His gaze was fixed on the fullness of my groin, and the sea green of his glistening eyes seemed to have changed to a soft aqua as he chuckled, saying, "I can understand that, Mr. Holliman, I often find it rather hard getting up in the mornings."
The thought that he could be teasing me and playing on words entered my mind, as I opened the storm door and stood sideways for him to enter as I said, "It can be a problem," I said, tempering my play on words, but looking into his eyes, and responding boldly.
"It certainly can be, but," he said, laughing lightly as he stepped across the threshold. "Regardless of how hard, most problems are solvable."
"I've found that to be true in most cases," I said as he followed me into the interior of the house . "I haven't had anything since I woke up, so would you care for some coffee?" I asked, drawing the belt of my robe tighter around my waist as I entered the kitchen.
"I've already had breakfast, Bert, but I'll join you in a cup while we are talking about your new Jacuzzi," he said, surveying the room and looking out the windows as he entered. "You really have a nice home."
"Thanks, I like it," I replied as I finished preparing the coffee maker.
"And," he said, looking through the porch's picture windows, with a view out over the back garden. Pulling out a chair and sitting down at the small maple kitchen table on the sun porch, he continued speaking, "I believe you mentioned that you live alone, so when we install your new hot tub it will become the perfect bachelor pad.
"It is already, Mr. Masters," I said, as I placed the sugar and milk containers on the table with a plate of Apple Danish, and returned to the coffee pot. "I did live in an apartment for two or three years after I graduated from college; but, I prefer the privacy that a private home affords compared to the thin walls of an apartment."
"I can understand that, Bert, especially if you are entertaining, but if you don't mind, would you call me Carl instead of Mr. Masters?" He asked. "Using christian names is all well and good in the military or some professional capacity, but I'm sure we will get to know each other well enough that we can drop the formalities."
"Sure," I answered as I carried the tray with a full coffee pot and two mugs to the table. "But, I'm a little confused. On the television in the ad, you used the name Clark, not Carl."
"Clark is my twin, but he is not much for meeting people. He prefers doing the interior visual stuff while, I'm the opposite. I like to meet and get to know the people that use our products. I prefer thinking of our customers as friends," he said, gazing up at me with soft seductive eyes, his mellow baritone voice a soft whisper.
I felt my heart beat quicken slightly, hoping that I wasn't mistaking the salacious undertones the conversation seemed to have taken and for a moment, I was at a loss for words; not sure if I was being presumptuous in assuming there were sexual overtones in the manner he was talking. Standing next to him as I filled his cup, I detected a musky aroma that was stimulating and sexually arousing. While pouring my coffee, I was about to speak when I felt a faint movement of my robe. Glancing down, I saw one hand squeezing the bulge in his groin and the fingers of his other hand lightly brushing the hem of my robe open.
Our eyes locked, and I didn't move. My cock was thickening, its stretching length pushing against the fabric of my robe, and my muscles tightened at the touch of his fingers on my thigh. Inhaling deeply, I sat the coffee pot down, exhaling and trembling at the feeling of his hand moving up the inside of my thigh, his fingers gently kneading my ball sac.
Looking down, I saw the head of my cock emerging from the opening of my robe and I felt his hot breath wafting over its blood engorged head. Running my fingers through his thick black hair, I said, huskily, "You certainly don't waste any time, do you, Carl?"
"Not when I see something that I want, and I wanted you when you opened the door," he replied, sliding his chair back and standing. My robe fell to the floor as he stood, his hand moving up over my chest, over my shoulders and down over my back.
We stood an arms length apart, his sensuous sea-green eyes deepening to a sultry green. Gripping my triceps tightly, he inhaled deeply as he visually explored the supple, lithe muscles of my body, his gaze lingering on the the vertical length of my throbbing pre-cum oozing cock. His lust filled eyes gleamed voraciously as he pulled me toward him, his voice husky with emotion as he said, "You're fucking gorgeous, Bert."
"That's a one-sided observation, Carl," I replied, swallowing and licking my lips as I placed my hands on his broad chest.
His eyes twinkled impishly as, grinning, he lowered his hands, and said, "It's your move."
My hands shook as I reached for the zipper clasp of his shorts, and my heart was racing . While I was fumbling with the zipper, he discarded his shirt, dropping it on the seat of the chair he had been sitting in; and, I hesitated with his zipper tab between my thumb and forefinger, immobilized by the Grecian magnificence of his beautifully muscled chest and washboard ripped abdominal muscles. Swallowing quickly, I opened the fly of his shorts, each click of the zipper teeth slowly revealing the thick, magnificent length of his uncut cock.
Kicking his shorts and shoes aside, Carl gathered me in his steel muscled arms, and my arms went around his neck, my mouth opening as our lips met. His body felt like satin covered granite, and I felt his heart beating in synch with mine. Our breathing was hampered by the ravenous kiss we were sharing, and I felt sticky precum oozing from the urethral opening in his throbbing cock.
"Jesus, Carl," I gasped as our lips parted.
He didn't say anything, but the look in his eyes and the movement of his hands over my back muscles, with his fingers squeezing and kneading my glutes spoke volumes. When he moved his hips back and slid his cock under my balls between my legs, I clamped my thighs tight, and he hunched several times, driving his cock between my legs and crushing my aching shaft and balls against his rock hard abdomen and silky thick pelvis bush. Each thrust of his hips and the sensation of his steel hard cock sliding over my quivering anus sent erotic pleasure bolts of ecstatic fire deep into my loins. The desire to be taken and consumed by the magnificent animal crushing my sweating body was overwhelming. The prime-evil need to copulate, to feel his thick shaft filling my ass, to revel in the surreal sexual act of primitive self-satisfaction permeated every sinew of my body, and I gasped in his ear, "Fuck me, Carl."
Throwing his head back, he looked at me, his blazing eyes reflecting the same animal desire that was gripping me. I could feel the desire and passion in his breathing, the thunderous beating of his heart and the pressure of his throbbing cock against the soft, sensitive perineum flesh separating balls and anus.. Dropping his hands he grabbed my glutes, holding my ass tight as he savagely drove his dripping schlong between my legs, growling, "bedroom or on the floor."
Twisting out of his grasp, I grabbed his wrist, leading him to the bedroom. All thoughts of a jacuzzi obliterated - at least for the moment.
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