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Home Improvements by Joncy

Ever been conned or misled by the cover of a magazine or adult movie? I suppose we all have. With me it was this great fresh-faced college jock, with a body to die for, standing stark naked in a hot tub. He was gazing right at me with "Come and get me" written in his eyes and his bubble butt was surfing the churning water like two slabs of that soap that floats. I couldn't get my coveted prize home quick enough to dick-drool all over it. Much to my angry disappointment (and frustration) there was no sign of the gorgeous cover boy inside. Nor of anybody who looked vaguely like him.

I'm happy to say exactly the opposite happened to me a few months back. I opened the door of my new apartment in response to a knock and was knocked off my feet by the guy standing outside. The bell wasn't working as the electricity hadn't been connected yet but enough bells went off in my head to bring in the millennium. He was much older than me. In his late twenties I suppose. And he looked even older because of the formal suit he was wearing. Flashy necktie and everything. With a big fat knot. I always associate neckties with people who go to church or who are canvassing or something. But my 'sex-ray' eyes immediately saw right through that suit to the body beneath. It was bulging with muscles and other promising delights. Like an unopened Christmas package. He said he'd come in answer to a call from a Mrs. Charles for an interior architect. She'd told him her son needed advice. He was right there. I'd just inherited the place from a deceased uncle, my mother's brother, and it was more mournful than a mausoleum or funeral parlour. I invited him in.

Soon we were sitting on Uncle Joe's antique sofa with a couple of beers and talking like old friends. He said he envied me for the great location, especially the view over the park. Said he often went there. To play football during the day and suck cock at night. I must say I was a little taken aback by the forthright way he just came out and said it. I mean most people would have talked about walking the dog or some such euphemism. But I suppose I must have been as transparent as his Armani outfit and he'd immediately sussed me out. Maybe it was the goofy way I was looking at him. He really was gorgeous. He'd taken off his jacket so I got a horny load of his prominent pecs and the spear-like nipples prodding their way through his shirt. He lay back, legs splayed, on the rigid sofa and I became rigid myself imagining those footballer's legs wrapped tightly around me.

There was a horny lull in the conversation. He soon filled it by looking straight into my eyes and placing my hand on the hot hummock between his legs. "Do you suck cock?" he asked as if he was offering me an aperitif or something which I suppose in a way he was. Without waiting for an answer he opened his fly and let loose the biggest, juiciest prick I'd seen in all of my eighteen years. I was dumbfounded this time but not too dumbstruck to accept his invitation. I mean as my mother might have said (in different circumstances of course) this was no time to 'mince words', in fact it was the perfect time to mince meat, so I got right down to it and buried my head in his lap.

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Took the beautiful bull by the horns. Struck while the iron was hot and all that.

'All that' was the word for it too. I'd never had such a mouthful and, if the truth be told, never had a cock in my mouth before. Of course, slut that I am, mine had been in quite a few mouths. Especially at school. I used to sit at the back of the class doodling during the boring History lesson and one dark rainy afternoon the boy next to me started spicing things up by fondling my dick under the desk. I'd never had my dick 'fondled' and quite liked it. Nobody was sitting near us and the teacher was pretty short sighted so, while Mr. Fuller-Jones was writing on the blackboard, Paul Wickes put his head in my lap and started biting the material around my dick until it grew too big for my pants and somehow or other found its way into Paul's mouth. That was probably the sexiest most slithery experience in my young life. Until now that is. All the danger and excitement of being discovered as well as the discovery of new chills and thrills.

As far as I could tell, there was no imminent danger involved at the moment, except maybe the fact I was making love with a perfect stranger and he wasn't wearing a rubber, but the same chills went running up and down my spine. They had quite an effect on my dick too which was once again dying to burst out of the confines of my pants and expand its horizons.

"That feels so good," my unexpected visitor said rather unoriginally, "So good."

He hadn't undone his Armani pants completely so I was having a difficult job getting at his scrotum. His dick was sticking out of his fly like a tasty salami but I wanted to get at the meatballs too. "Open up," I begged him. "Let me get at the rest of you."

"Sounds good," he said. "Suck my balls. Lick my ass. Tongue fuck me you fucker."

He opened his pants wide so now I was able to slip one hand under his shirt and caress his chest. He groaned and tried to stick his hot sausage further into my mouth. I pursed my lips and gave him all the suction I could. He squirmed with pleasure. Spurred on by this I spat on the tip of his dick as I remembered others doing to me and, starting at his balls, licked the whole length of his lengthy prick. "God, that's good," he moaned. "My dick never had it so good. Tongue fuck me some more."

My fingertips had found his nipples and I so wanted to suck them too. "Undo your shirt," I said.

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"Undo it for me," was his answer. "Rip the buttons off with your teeth. Spit them out all over me."

For all his muscles and masculinity - not to mention his thick prick - there was something strangely passive about him. Even weird. I began to wonder where all this was leading. I'd never fucked a man before and wasn't sure whether I was up to it, so to speak. Or would he eventually get turned on and turn the tables. Fuck the ass off me. Which was what I wanted. You see I'm a raving rabid butt slut and I wanted that piece of prime meat inside me so bad. And I don't mean my stomach. Meanwhile I undid his shirt, button by button, while I sucked his cock further into my mouth, inch by succulent inch. This only seemed to make it grow bigger. Soon it was almost touching my tonsils. "I'm going to fuck your mouth wide open so you can take more of this big dick." he snarled contentedly. I knew from my limited experience that talking dirty probably turned him on but it sounded so dumb sometimes that it almost had the opposite effect on me. Still I persevered. Seems I was hitting all the right buttons too.

"God, I sure am glad I knocked on your door," he shuddered as I took him half way to heaven before temporarily discarding his dick and taking my tongue on a tour of his torso. Rivulets of sexual satisfaction rippled through his firm athlete's body. I really surprised myself (and I hope him too) as I found giving another guy pleasure was coming so naturally to me. I tongue fucked his nipples and fist fucked his dick till I drove him absolutely wild. By now he was oozing pre-cum and I used it to moisten my fingers and seek out his ass. He let me insert one or two fingers, and then my thumb, and gave out a few complimentary groans. "God you're good." he said.

I must admit I was inclined to agree with him but then all of a sudden he lost all his passivity and sprang to horny life. He started talking dirty again, this time turning us both on with his graphic images. Then, when I least expected it, he tore off my shirt and pants releasing my surprised dick from its confines. He gazed appreciatively at my nakedness, his dick and his tie dangling above me.

"You're fucking beautiful," he said.

Then he whipped me onto my back, and penetrated me with great force and without so much as a by your leave. No thought of foreplay or even fairplay. No respect for my feelings at all. But of course I didn't complain. My mouth was full of his fleshy tongue and my ass was full of his even fleshier dick. Soon I was getting the fuck of all fucks. I hung on to his horrendous tie which was all he was now wearing, gritted my chattering teeth, steeled myself to support the pain, and instead found myself becoming a willing slave to my new lord and riding master.

By now, I'd gotten him so hot there was no holding him. He took my ass to the rodeo and bucked my bronco so furiously, so frantically, I feared that either my butt or his dick would break in two. I was in such a daze of dizzy delirium as he whammed and bammed me that my body seemed boneless. Then everything seemed to burst. Passing pain turned to perfect pleasure and two bodies, two strangers, became one. Literally. We almost stuck together with the showers of copious cum that came streaming out of both of us.

"Jeez," he said, milking me with his fingers, "I always prided myself on being a good interior decorator but this really beats the band."

"It beat my ass too," I said, ever the wise-guy.

"I'm Paul by the way."

"That figures," I said and then had to tell him the whole schoolboy story as we nestled into each other after our shower. After a good fuck and a good shower nothing beats a good nestle.

"I thought for a while there you were going to fuck me," he said.

"I thought for a while you wanted me to."

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"I did kind of. We must try it some time."

We snuggled down and slept for an hour or so, then started making love again. I was still on the receiving end of his dick only this time he took it slower which only had me hollering for more. It was nice to have him finally naked before me and get rid of that awful tie. Now I only had the bedrail to hold on to as he made a doggy bag of my ass and sent me barking up the right tree.

Since then, much water has gone under the proverbial bridge and a lot of cum down my bathroom drain but I'm still worshipping and adoring him. And not only his horny, heavenly body. He's been wonderful to me. No disappointment here that the book isn't going to live up to the cover. He happened my way at just the right time and seemed to know just what my new home and I wanted and needed. This morning as I lay happily in his arms, I said a little prayer of thanks to Uncle Joe hoping it would be a long, long time before Paul had finally restructured, remodelled and renovated his old apartment.

Not to mention my ass.

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