Outdoor Shower

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"I'm just about done," Dave said. He was coated in sweat and had paint drops spattered across his arms and even some in his hair. It had been a long afternoon with the sun baking him while he worked.

"Looks great, Dave. Thanks very much," said Tom, whose garage had just gotten a new coat of paint. Dave did odd jobs like that for friends and got recommended to Tom to help with some things at his new house. They met that morning, and Tom had spent the afternoon mowing the lawn and planting some shrubs while Dave got the painting done. Tom's wife and kids were on an overnight trip, so he was trying to surprise them by getting some stuff done around the house. He was wearing some old khakis and a T-shirt, both of which had gotten some topsoil smeared across them. Tom smelled a little of that dull smell of peat and that sharp smell of cut grass.

While Dave started to fold over a big, brown, canvas dropcloth, Tom said, "I really appreciate having you take care of that painting for me today. Sorry it was such a messy job. Do you want to get cleaned up, get a shower?"

"Oh, I don't want to track a mess through the house," Dave replied. His sneakers and shorts had drops and dribbles and crinkly smears of paint across them from this job and also from plenty of jobs before. You could only tell new from old by the color, matching it to the garage.

"You don't have to. That's what this outdoor shower is for." It was a big plus on the fixer-upper that it already had that shower built out onto a side door to a Mud Room. Tom had plans to put in a pool eventually. "Of course, you don't have to use it, but it's here if you want to." Dave did want to use it, very much. The sweat and grime of the day clung to him under a layer of dust and dirt and cobwebs and caking paint mist.

The wooden slats of the cubicle went almost all the way down to the concrete floor, and the overhead showerhead rained down to a drain below them when Tom turned on the water. Dave reached in and rinsed dirt and paint off his hands. The cold water was a relief after the hot day. "I turn it this way to get hot?"

Tom leaned in to show how to adjust the temperature, and when he turned around he saw Dave peeling his T-shirt up over his head, revealing his hairy chest and stomach, and a peek at the white waistband of his underwear as his shorts sagged a bit. Tom found himself staring a little, examining the physique and thinking about his own. That's not so unusual when guys are together, right? That's what Tom told himself.

With the water spraying behind him and his arm getting wet, Tom stepped out and squeezed by Dave. They were in the back of the house but at the corner, so Tom could see down the driveway to the mailbox and the street, but next to him was Dave's shirtless muscles, and then Dave's shorts sagged so low that they fell to his ankles before he could catch them.

"Whoops," Dave said, and started to apologize, taking a step back and moving his foot to slide his shorts to the side and stepping on the back of each sneaker to step out of them, and then he checked to make sure that he was out of view from the house next door. The shower wall blocked him. Tom told him not to worry, that the hedge blocked the neighbors' view, and as he glanced at Dave's white briefs and then looked away, he said that he'd give Dave some privacy. Dave said, "Oh, I don't mind. But I didn't see which way was hot," and he stepped in front of Tom, squeezing past, almost brushing against him.

Their bodies were close and getting misted. The water felt nice and cool on Tom's arm. The feeling that they were both okay with being there together with Dave in just his underwear felt nice for both of them. And then Tom looked down and saw Dave's white briefs getting splashed and wet and basically transparent as they started to cling to his dick and balls beneath. The shape and length and position were there on display. Dave started to say that the water was warming up when he noticed what Tom was noticing. So much for privacy.

"Well, I guess these aren't really covering anything anymore," he said as he took them off. "I'm not shy. Hey, do you want me to leave it running for you?" Tom hadn't really thought about it, but if he went upstairs to shower then he'd be tracking dirt through the house, even if he got naked in the Mud Room, just from the dirt on his forearms.

"Uh, yeah, thanks, I'll use it when you're done with it," Tom said. And then he started to step away, figuring that he would busy himself with something in the backyard for a while, even though he was done with it. But then Dave asked about if he'd need any other painting done any time soon, while he soaped up a lather and spread the foamy bubbles across his chest and into his armpits.

Tom stayed where he stood, only a foot or two to the side of the shower stall and still facing Dave as water and soap slid down his naked body. The water highlighted his muscles. As Dave closed his eyes and rinsed his hair and face under the shower, Tom's eyes darted down and then back up and then down again to check out Dave's cock.

Then Dave's hand grabbed it, pulled it out, and scrubbed under his balls. Water trickled and dribbled off his skin. Dave's eyes opened and looked straight at Tom, waiting for an answer to whatever question Tom just missed. "Oh, what was that?" It was something about the gardening that Tom had been doing, and he kept talking with him while watching him shower. Then he realized that he was getting a semi from it.

"I'm about done, if you want to get naked," Dave said, "I mean, get ready to get in next after me." Tom thought about saying that he'd get in later or about changing privately but with Dave watching him and waiting for him, he kind of wanted to get naked there too. He had never been shy in the locker room. He didn't plan this, but he kind of liked it. He pulled his shirt off and tossed it aside, and noticed Dave checking out what had been hidden. Then Tom undid his khakis and pulled them off his smooth, muscular legs. He had nothing on under them. When he stood naked in front of Dave, waiting to switch places, Dave looked down and said, "impressive."

They both laughed a bit. The semi was a bit more noticeable than Tom had thought it would be. He wasn't sure if he should hide it or say something, but Dave wasn't making a big deal about it. He was just rinsing off and finishing up. Then he made a joke about "It wants to get wet" and tapped him on the chest. They both smiled and laughed a little. They were standing pretty close to each other. Tom noticed Dave finish with a rinse and swipe down and off his own cock, kind of stretching it.

"Okay, all yours," he said as he stepped around Tom, squeezing by, a hand on his shoulder. The water felt great on Tom's naked body, and he felt relaxed hanging out naked without it feeling weird for either of them. "Uh, any towels though?" Dave said, dripping water onto the concrete. Tom apologized and said that there was a stack inside, in the Mud Room, and started to take a step to go get them. But Dave held up a hand and said he'd do it.

As Tom watched Dave step back and look around again and open the door and walk in, he pictured him inside, in his house, naked inside his house and drying his wet naked body. It made his semi get a bit longer and straighter. Dave was inside for a little bit, and it made Tom imagine him more. When Dave stepped out again, he said "Thank again for letting me rinse off, man. Whoa! There it goes! Nice one, buddy."

"Sorry man," Tom said, starting to blush a bit and cover himself, but Dave told him not to worry about it, and that he's okay with it, and that it's Tom's house so he can do whatever he wants in there. Then Dave said that he'd be doing the same, especially after being in the pool. They talked about how some guys get shrinkage but it's the opposite for him. They started talking about the gym that Dave goes to. It was a whole conversation while Dave dried off and Tom scrubbed his body, carefully avoiding where he usually spends most of his time in the shower. Soapy foamy bubbles slowly slid down around his hard dick.

Tom felt embarrassed but excited. When the conversation hit a pause, Dave said with a grin, "You uh... you want a minute with that? I can give you some privacy." Tom smiled, and eventually said that he'd take care of it later, that he had the house to himself today so he was sure he'd be jacking off at some point. Then a silence hung between them, just the hiss of the shower and the dribble of the water. After maybe a full minute, while Dave finished drying himself and hung his towel on one of the pegs, next to where he hung one for Tom, he said, "Why wait?"

Then they just looked each other in the eye, not moving. Then eventually Dave looked down. Then Tom's eyes looked down at where Dave had finally started touching himself, just little tugs, moving his balls out from between his legs, shifting his weight and letting a hand touch his own belly before it started sliding down to hold his cock and stretch it out, squeeze it, touch it where he likes it touched.

They didn't say much then, just enough to agree to what had started happening. Stroking slowly together, not really putting in a show or staring but just jerking together, starting to breathe a little heavier. Tom was so turned on, he couldn't believe it. He had never done anything like this with a guy before, even back at the age when guys tried out stuff. Dave now sported a healthy hardon and was slowly pulling, grinding into his own hand and grunting.

It didn't take long for Tom to come, panting and pulling and shooting a quick blast that had been waiting almost a week. The inside wall of the shower stall got one big glob, and the rest coated his knuckles. He immediately felt a little embarrassed, for a few reasons, and started rinsing it, watching it wash down the drain. His stomach heaved in and out from the release. Dave grinned, knowing all those feelings as all us guys do.

Then another awkward pause as Tom was done and wet, and Dave was dry and boned up. Dave got the towel and held it out for Tom who took it and started drying, letting himself stand so close to Dave and the thing between them. Tom said, "Do you want a minute with that?" But they started talking about a change of clothes, looking at the mounds of dirty clothes that they had stepped out of.

"I can give you something," Tom said, and he opened the door to the Mud Room for them to scurry through. Dave's boner wagged back and forth like a dog's happy tail as they ran in. "Hey, do you want a drink or anything?" Tom asked, as he felt his own thirst after shooting his load. They walked into the kitchen together, still naked, and poured two glasses of water to chug. Tom let himself stare at the man's body, and Dave let him stare. "You ever done anything like this before?" Tom asked.

"Not exactly like this," Dave answered. "You?" Tom shook his head no with a grin. He felt like he was streaking or skinny-dipping. He'd been naked alone in his own house before, even running down to the kitchen without bothering to put something on, but this felt fun and different and dangerous and silly and hot. He felt like years had washed away.

"Let's go upstairs," Tom said, "... to get some clothes!" Dave joked that they could just hang out like this all day, and Tom kind of wanted to say okay. Dave said any old shirt and shorts would be fine and thanked him. "You never wear underwear?" Dave asked. Tom said that sometimes he'd wear a jock at the gym. That made Tom glance again at Dave's hard cock as they walked past a big mirror in the hall and then up the stairs. Dave looked at Tom's firm ass as he followed him up the stairs.

When they got upstairs and entered Tom's bedroom, Dave looked down between them and said, "He's back!" Tom was getting hard again from thinking about Dave in a jock and seeing him naked in his house and walking around naked with him. Dave said, "Hey, any time you need anything else done around the house, I would love to come give you a hand." They laughed together at the situation.

"You ever done anything like this before?" Tom asked. Dave kind of shrugged and admitted to once or twice. Dave asked if Tom wanted a hand with that. Tom said, "Is it okay if it's just this?" Dave agreed to keep it whatever Tom was comfortable with. Tom knelt on the bed and waited for Dave to join him. Dave noticed Tom watching them together in the mirror and faced out more so Tom could watch what was happening in his house, could etch the memory into the place and come back to it later.

They got close but didn't touch. Dave stroked and let Tom watch. Tom got hard again and loved jacking it without it being too ready. Dave had jerked off that morning, as always, so he could take his time. He stayed hard for almost an hour from when he sprung up and as they walked through the empty house and up to Tom's private space. And then Dave came, leaned back and shot onto his stomach and chest. The eruption made Tom so hot. He started jackhammering faster and faster, panting, moaning a little under his breath, while Dave enjoyed the sensation of smearing himself with his jizz.

And then Tom reached out and took some. He had never felt another man's cum before. And he slathered it onto his rod and pumped into it. Dave almost came again from watching that. And then Tom's face transformed into pain and pleasure, gritting as he shot again and this time at Dave's naked body.

When they finished and relaxed, they talked about getting into the shower off of the bedroom

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.