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Bob heard his doorbell. When he answered it, there stood Dave, who Bob had hired to clean up the lawn, rake leaves, and trim some shrubs. His left shoe, pant leg, arm, and hand were covered in mud.
"I'm just about done, but I was wondering if I could use your hose," Dave said.
Bob had used Dave a few times before for this kind of work. Bob stood in dress pants, shiny shoes, a crisp shirt and tie. He had gray at his temples and a mustache. He was about 50. He was married with grown children. His wife was out for hours.
Dave was in his early 40s. He had sandy blond hair and clean-shaven but rugged face, and a nice smile, and green eyes. He was working on Bob's place by himself today.
Bob said, "Oh, that muddy spot! I should've warned you about it." He apologized and explained that he didn't have a hose but told Dave to go around to the mud room.
With a side entrance to the house, the mud room had a tile floor with a drain in it, a big sink, and the washer/dryer.
Dave stepped in, gingerly, but Bob explained that he'd just mop it up afterwards like he usually does.
"It's no problem, really, just take those off and rinse them in the sink, and we can throw them in."
Bob explained that he used this room to clean off after working in the garden or taking a run, that he'd just strip off and toss his clothes in the washer before heading in. The mud room really kept the rest of the house clean.
Dave pulled off his shoes, rinsed one and set them by the door. Then he peeled off his muddy shirt, ran it under the sink and tossed it into the washer that Bob had opened for him. Dave hadn't been wearing an undershirt. His bare chest and back were showing muscles, but Bob wasn't looking.
Slowly undoing his pants, cautiously, Dave looked out into the house. Bob confirmed that there was nobody else at home. Dave took out his keys, wallet, and phone and set them on top of the dryer.
Dave felt like he was on view, but he went with it. "It's just us guys," he thought to himself. He peeled his pants off and stood in his underwear (worn-out white briefs), rinsing mud off, while Bob watched.
They talked about the mud and the leaves and the lawn while Bob started the washing machine. Dave felt the need to put his hands in his pockets. He awkwardly folded his hands behind his back, then leaned one arm against the dryer, then finally stood with his arms folded and his legs wide.
"That'll be quick," Bob said. Dave looked at the dial on the washing machine and tried to think of something to say. He found himself not minding the situation too much, surprisingly. He wondered if Bob was checking him out.
Dave had a pretty good body. His arms and chest were firm, the kind of muscle you get from real work instead of from a gym.
Bob found himself noticing Dave's tan lines, darker forearms with paler shoulders and torso. He felt a little strange having this guy almost naked, but they were friendly before, and he felt awful about all that mud. He figured, if he's okay with it then I'm okay with it.
"Um, can I get you something to drink?" Bob offered. "Yeah, thanks, just some water would be good," Dave replied.
As Bob walked to his kitchen, Dave fumbled over whether he should follow or just wait in the mud room. Without a lot of conversation, more just body language, Bob waved Dave on behind him, venturing in his skivvies into his home.
They stood in the kitchen as Dave gulped down a big, cold glass and then held onto it with both hands like a grenade. Dave looked around, trying to act casual.
"I'd offer you a robe, but I don't have one," Bob said. "I could give you a towel... or..."
Dave shrugged it off. He was kind of getting a kick out of it. He was thinking whether he'd tell anybody the story or just keep it to himself. You get some interesting stories when you come to people's homes. People can be really interesting. He had stories to tell.
He said, "I'm fine." He thought about how much time was left for his clothes.
Of course, the conversation turned to sports for a while. Mid-sentence, they heard a ding. For a second, Dave thought it might be the doorbell. It was the washing machine.
They walked back to the mudroom, and Dave moved his laundry into the dryer so Bob wouldn't have to touch anything. Bob watched as Dave bent down.
When Dave turned around, he noticed Bob noticing him, looking at his ass. Dave stood up. He looked down at his underwear. He noticed how the elastic was loose and there was a hole in the back.
"I guess these are pretty much done, huh," Dave said. "Now I know why they say to always wear clean underwear."
Then they talked about underwear! While he stood there in his underwear.
Bob noticed how smooth Dave was and wondered if he shaved to show off his physique. Dave naturally had very little body hair.
Dave noticed Bob's eyes on him. He wondered if Bob was really checking him out. It wasn't the first time that a guy, even a married guy, had seemed to be a little more than just politely interested. Sometimes, Dave would kind of put on a show, lifting up his shirt to wipe sweat from his face, maybe bending over a little more. He liked the attention.
"You know, I have a couple unopened packages of briefs still, from when I switched to boxers," Bob said. "If you want 'em."
Dave thought for a second. "Yeah, I'll take 'em off your hands if they're my size."
"They're... I think they're upstairs in my bedroom."
Dave thought about just waiting there. "Okay, well, lead the way. I'll follow you."
Then Bob walked ahead, his dress shoes clacking against the floor. Dave followed, bare foot, bare legs, bare chest, bare arms, all skin and muscles.
As they climbed the stairs, it was Dave's turn to check out Bob's butt, tightly framed in navy dress pants. Bob was in pretty good shape too.
The bedroom had soft, fluffy carpeting and a big bed in the center of the room. Bob opened his drawers and sifted through them, retrieving an unopened eight-pack of white Fruit of the Loom briefs from years ago.
"You think these will fit you?" Bob asked.
"You mind if I try them on?" Dave replied. Bob didn't care; maybe Bob did care; maybe Bob wanted to watch him try them on.
"Go ahead," Bob answered.
Dave took the package and ripped it open, pulling out one pair from the folded clump of briefs. He set them on the bed without asking.
He slid his underwear down with a deep breathe and stood there with them in his hand, inspecting a hole by the waistband. Bob looked at the briefs and at Dave's naked body.
"Can I just toss these?" Dave asked. Bob nodded and motioned for a wastebasket in the corner and watched Dave toss the white briefs that were more grayish at this point.
Dave stood there. Bob stood there. Dave wasn't ashamed of his body; he thought he had a pretty good piece. Bob also thought it was pretty impressive as he tried not to stare down.
Dave picked up the new briefs and held them at his shins to step into them. As they slid up his legs, his tool got pushed up. Dave reached down and adjusted himself, positioning the underwear tight between his legs. He felt his butt. He felt his crotch. He caught a view of himself in the mirror and checked out his own firm, muscular butt.
"They're a little tight," Dave said, "but I think they're good.""Take 'em," Bob replied.
Dave suddenly wondered if his clothes were dry yet and if the dryer would sound a ding.
Bob felt something surprising. He felt a twitch in his crotch that he recognized as the beginning of getting hard. He also felt something more emotional. He liked having this naked man in front of him, almost bossing him around. He couldn't put it into words if you had asked him, but he felt a strange, sensual power.
Both men wondered what would happen next.
Dave had guys make passes at him before, clients, guys at the gym, guys in the park. He was flattered but never did anything.
Bob wondered if he should take Dave down to see if his clothes were dry. Bob had a hardon.
"You're sure they fit alright?" Bob asked. Bob wanted to reach out and touch, but stopped himself.
"Yep, thanks," Dave replied, kind of turning around, reaching one finger into the waistband. "I think we're the same size."
Bob stared and enjoyed what he saw. Dave felt that Bob was taking in his body. Dave kind of tensed his body a bit.
Bob said, "uh, You know... if you'd be interested.... I have some more stuff that I was going to get rid of. They've been worn, but they should be your size."
Dave smiled. "Yeah, I'll take a look. I'm okay with hand-me-downs."
Bob stepped into his closet, gave his hard dick a quick squeeze, and came out with an old pair of jeans. He held them out to Dave. Dave took them.
He tossed them on the bed. "I never wear underwear with jeans," he said. He stripped off his new briefs and stood there while Bob watched his naked butt.
Completely nude, Dave stepped into Bob's old jeans. He slid them up his pale, smooth thighs, over his bubble butt, and he stuffed his cock in the front. He zipped up and ran his fingers all over his legs and ass.
"These feel great," Dave said. The jeans were soft and worn and felt great against his skin. He had never tried wearing jeans without underwear before.
As he felt the fabric, he let his hand slide over his cock and give it a few tugs. Bob watched. Bob's pants were bulging out, and Dave could tell.
Dave and Bob stared at each other. Dave undid the jeans, pulled them off, and set them on the bed next to the underwear he had been wearing and the package of briefs.
He stood there, completely naked, built and buff and boned up. His dick pointed straight out at Bob, and then he flexed and his balls pulled up and his dick pointed skyward and flopped back down.
Bob stared and loved that he could just stare.
"I have something else for you," Bob said, as he wandered back to the closet again. He came back with a bright blue pair of swimming trunks. He held them.
Dave stood and waited, letting Bob look. Then he reached out his hand, asking for the shorts.
Bob handed them to him, and Dave slid them on, up and over his hard dick. He turned again, looking at his ass in the mirror. The shorts were short. They showed a lot of leg. They clung tight to his ass. Dave felt the swishy fabric.
"These feel pretty good too," Dave said. "Thanks"
The tip of Dave's dick was up and out of the waistband. Dave saw it in the mirror and adjusted his package. He had to hike the waist up higher to go over it, so the shorts were high up his leg and pulling tight against his ass.
The outline of his hard cock was obvious through the thin fabric, stretched over him. Bob watched as he stroked it.
Bob went to stroke his own cock but stopped himself. Instead, he just felt his dick pressed against his leg and oozing liquid. Not touching himself was a surprising turn-on, like teasing and edging himself while he stared.
Dave felt like he was putting on a show, and he was surprised by how much he loved it.
But then the dryer buzzed.
Dave stopped and turned and looked at Bob. Without a word, he slid the bathing suit off and tossed it onto the bed with the rest.
He stood there, still hard as a flagpole, feeling like a marble statue come to life.
"Thanks for these," Dave said, motioning to the underwear and jeans and trunks. He gave another flex of his cock and balls.
Then he slowly gathered up the clothes and walked out the door, still bare ass.
Nude and hard, he strolled down the hallway. Each step on the stairs made his cock bounce. Through the living room, past the open windows, past the bathroom, to the mud room. He set the clothes on top of the dryer.
Bob had followed and stared, surprised at how much he loved it, how hot he was getting, hot much precum was stickily puddling on his leg.
Dave opened the dryer, bent down, reached in, and pulled out the tough canvas pants and flannel shirt he had put on that morning, clean and hot.
He set them on top of the dryer with his new clothes. He stood there, in the mud room, facing Bob.
He was still hard.
"I should take care of this before I go," he said.
Bob nodded.
Dave reached for his hard cock and gripped it. Bob stood motionless, his dick pulsing and leaking in his pants.
Dave pumped up and down. He lifted one hand to his chest and massaged his smooth skin, tracing his hand all over, under his armpits with just a soft patch of hair, feeling his flexing biceps, posing for Bob. He turned to the side and squeezed his butt cheeks, watching as Bob's eyes darted down.
Dave felt his balls and rolled them around in his hand. With one finger, he dabbed at the spot of clear liquid at the tip of his thick dick.
Dave looked over at the sink, where he had rinsed the mud of his clothes earlier. He looked at Bob. He took a step over to it. He aimed his cock like a gun. Again, Bob's eyes darted over.
Bob felt his unaided cock erupt in his pants. It was amazing. He liked to fuck and he liked to jerk off, but what he loved was to lie in bed before he went to sleep and hump the mattress, never touching his dick, just pressing it. He took his time when he did it. This was like that, edging himself until his dick took over.
He moaned and gasped. Dave watched Bob look down at his wet bulge. Dave shot like a rifle against the sink, looking over at Bob watching him intently.
Dave was hot and red. The veins in his dick pulsed out as he rubbed with his rough hands.
He didn't bother rinsing the cum. Bob stood there and watched, looking like he had just been hit with a waterballoon.
Dave slid on his new white briefs, then his warm pants, then put on his shirt and pulled on his shoes.
He took his pile of clothes and walked out the door.
I met Dave at a nudist resort last week.