The man ringing the doorbell was still young looking, waiting patiently, and dressed far too warm for how hot it was: slacks, a button-up shirt, and even a tie choking him as sweat pooled on his forehead and the small of his back.
The man who answered was home alone that day and not expecting anyone, still wearing his robe that was open in the chest and stopped around the knees. He was older and taller and more muscular, surprisingly intimidating to the young man. He was reminded of the feeling of being in his father's presence.
"Good morning, sir," was followed by an explanation about utilities and a free inspection that, if completed, could save 20% or more in costs. He had a clipboard and a little flashlight, so he was let in.
They immediately talked about how hot the weather was. When the inspector saw some shoes by the door, he asked if he should remove his. He was happy to get them off, and he went ahead and tugged his tie off too, rolled it up and put it in his pocket.
They started the top to bottom inspection, first discussing attic insulation and storing things safely. They squeezed through narrow hallways together. They talked about getting ventilation ducts cleaned, and the young man pulled out a little flashlight to look in.
In the bedroom, they looked at power outlets to make sure they're safe, and return vents to make sure they're not blocked. Looking down at his clipboard, the young man asked about flame-resistant pajamas. The other man explained that he didn't wear pajamas, that he slept with nothing on at all, and then they nodded and looked at the bed where he didn't wear pajamas.
Then they moved on to the upstairs bathroom. When asked about water pressure, the older man turned on the shower. Good pressure, warms up quick, no hard water.
"And do you masturbate in the shower?" the inspector asked. The question was met with a little shock at first.
"Uh, well, yes sometimes."
With a matter of fact attitude, the younger man scribbled on his checklist. "I understand. Feels great with the water on you. But that can clog drains."
He pointed to the sink and shared that many men like to jerk off looking at themselves in the mirror, pressing their hips into the sink.
"Really?"
"Oh yeah, it feels great ... and you can kind of show off to yourself. Just remember to close that drain before you start and ...uh clean it up."
They were both sweating now. As they continued down the stairs, he asked for a glass of water and ended up spilling down the front of his shirt.
"Oh, take that off, and we'll just toss it into the dryer."
He unbuttoned and pulled it off his arms, revealing round shoulders and thick biceps. Underneath was a gray A-frame tanktop undershirt, slim against his stomach. It was a little wet too and a little sweaty in the back. When they got to the dryer, the next stop on the inspection, he was invited to put his undershirt in too.
"No need to be modest. I mean, I'm just in this robe."
The undershirt was pulled off, showing armpit hair in the process. The inspector didn't expect to end up bare from the waist up in a stranger's basement, but here he was.
Clicking his flashlight and making notes on his clipboard, he checked around. The other man looked at him, at his body.
"Next I want to check out the hot water heater." It was in a corner. The young man looked but stopped. "You know... these are new slacks, and I don't want to get grease on them. Do you, uh... mind if I just take them off?"
He didn't mind. He was fine with it. In fact, he wanted to take off robe. It was warm. He went ahead and took off the robe, revealing just a pair of manly light blue stiff cotton boxer shorts that fit snugly.
The young man undid his pants and slid them off. He stood in the basement in just socks, pulled almost up to the knee, and a pair of clean tight white briefs that fit very snugly. They looked at each other and enjoyed the freedom of unencumbered skin.
Holding just his clipboard and pen and flashlight in his hands in front of himself, he looked like he could be totally nude, the briefs covered.
The older man watched the firm butt almost wiggle away and around a pipe as they discussed maintenance. Sure enough, the man did get a spot of black grease on his thumb and on his hip that he smeared onto the crinkle elastic waistband.
When he emerged, he clicked the flashlight off and clipped it onto the front of his underwear, to one side of the central pouch, and its weight folded over the waistband and tugged the briefs down to reveal that soft hair to the side of the bush on the flat skin below the belly.
He didn't know it was sagging. He didn't know that the other man was thinking about what he'd look like with a tool belt on and maybe nothing else.
"How about the garage?" It was right up a few steps and out a side door. The folded slacks were left on top of the dryer as it finished up.
After peeking a head in to make double sure that the garage door was closed, they trailed in. The row of small windows in the door was too high to see into from the street, but it was still a little exciting to be almost naked in there, almost exposed.
When he saw the workbench there with some tools, the young man smiled and said, "This brings me back. When I got too big to go over my daddy's knee, I'd have to come out to the garage and..."
He leaned over a stool as he used to for a spanking, standing there in just those tight white briefs, hands folded at his crotch and pushing into them.
"He'd give you one of these, huh?" The older man gave him just one tentative pat on the side like a baseball coach.
"More than one." They both laughed a little, smiled at the situation of being ready to get it from old dad.
"Just like this, huh?" He stood next to him, behind him, closer now, and gave another swat and held his hand there, then another swat.
"Yeah" Then a pat, letting his hand set there, pressed flat against the firm muscles, the briefs strained tightly against flexing flesh.
Then a spank, a real spank. He was going for it for real and the young man was taking them. The smacks muffled into the fabric.
"And did he ever... pull 'em down? Like this?" He touched the man's underwear and pulled on the waistband and lowered them off and back and down. "And tuck 'em under those rosy cheeks? Yeah? They're a little red now. And then you'd get a little more sting?"
"Yeah, yes" The skin of the hand touched the skin of the soft perky ass.
"You'd feel it on your bare butt, like this?" And a smack echoed in the open space.
"Yeah, and I'd be pushing into the stool in the front."
"Oh yeah? Like that?" He inspected what was happening on the other side, against the seat of the stool. "And it looks like you're barely covered in the front, aren't you?"
Tight and taut and wet at the tip, it was very obvious if you looked. And he pushed into the tight fabric and against the stool, leaning and pulsing, grinding.
Another slap, a stinging sensation like a whip, and the air cracked. Slap! SMAK! WHAP!
"Did yer daddy ever take 'em all the way down? All the way off?"
"No.... but I always wondered if he might."
"Yeah? You always thought he might just strip these down all the way off of you?" One finger tugged teasingly, then another smack.
"Yeah. I always wished he would."
"Yeah? You wanted him to do this?" The man's large hands took the briefs down with authority. They pulled over the stiffness and bounced it up, and landed around his ankles.
"Did he ever put one hand on your shoulder like this and push you over to stick that butt out for him?"With a comforting control, the skin-to-skin contact increased. It had been a while since this man had given a spanking, and he always insisted that it had to be over the lap, but here he was filling in and fulfilling an unfinished role. The garage was hot.
"I bet you kept your legs tight together, huh? Why don't you go ahead and spread those legs for me, yeah, a little wider than that. Yeah, hey, I can see those balls you got there between your legs. Yeah. Why, my hand looks like it's just barely touching them when I'm rubbing back here. You like that, son?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah, I know you do, boy. You like feeling my hand on you, and you like having to be naked in front of me?" He explored, barely making contact with the sensitive hanging skin between the legs.
SLAP! He kept a rhythm but kept surprising. Another spank, firm across both cheeks and low, none of that left then right, every touch landed with a jolt up, a bolt. Another and another, the pain tingled and the emotions came out and a blush across everywhere, letting it all out.
"Your little butt is getting pretty red now and warm. Your daddy ever put some cream on that hide?You want me to squirt some cream on it? I got some right here, and I can rub it all in."
It poked out the fly, thick and firm. He always peed by poking it out through the fly, felt more manly, and doing this now with his cock out felt amazing. Between spanks, he stroked. The whole time, the younger man humped his own hands, pushing against the stool just as he said he pushes against the sink when he's jerking off in the mirror.
But now he was taking it, feeling each sting, each wave of feeling. His ass was burning, a faintly familiar feeling like a smell from childhood suddenly bringing you back in time. He was there again but now it went how he always pictured. The feelings were real.
He felt the rod behind him, leaking onto his reddened ass that flexed as he pushed and popped with each hit landing.
"Yeah, give it to me, spread it on there."
Streams shot out, squirts, hot and white and the liquid felt stupendous against the hot dry red skin. Both men had a glean of sweat at the small of the back and on the chest and rolling down from each hairy armpit.
The knob helmet mushed against the mess and smushed and smeared. The tip tapped the back of his balls. He leaned back into it. His hands were full of his own cum without any tugs.
Then that same spanking hand rested flat, holding, and the other hand touched the shoulder and twisted the frame around to put them face to face and then invite a full embrace, a comforting cradle. They hugged it out in a tight grip of each other's body. Still red and engorged and aroused and flush and just held there, held each other, with the smell of the workbench.