Home Improvements - Part 2

By M. Greene published February 1, 2019
mgreene70@yahoo.com
Summary

The home improvements continue

Home Improvements

Part 2

July

Shane and Colin have done a fantastic job of the electrics and piping and now they’re making a start on re-plastering the top floor of the house. There’s a whole lot of shabby wallpaper up there which, when it’s removed, brings a ton of plaster off with it, so it’s one hell of a job.

I return from the office after another gruelling day and, as I step out from my air-conditioned car, the warmth hits me like a wall. It’s like walking into an oven. This heatwave has been going on for the past few days and shows no signs of letting up. By the time I enter the house, I can feel my shirt sticking to my back under my suit jacket. I need to get out of my work outfit and fast!

I remove my clothes and enter the downstairs bathroom I use. Unlike the one next to Shane and Colin’s room upstairs, which they’ve just finished refitting and looks fantastic, the fixtures in here all date from the nineteen-sixties and are ugly and stained. No matter how often I scrub at them, I can never make them look really clean. I turn on the faucet and step into the elderly shower cubicle, but immediately feel totally nauseated by the sensation of warm water spraying over my skin. I jump out and lean retching over the toilet bowl. I almost vomit up the remains of my lunch, but take a few deep breaths and somehow manage to avoid being sick. What the fuck was that? A few moments pass with me resting my head on the toilet seat, gasping and retching. Have I turned aqua-phobic or something? Once I’ve recovered somewhat, I stand up again and tentatively hold my hand under the shower again. The immediate biliousness in my stomach makes me snatch it back out. Damn! What’s wrong with me?

Returning to my bedroom, I hang up my suit and try to find something clean to put on which isn’t too warm. As I don’t yet have a washing machine, I’ve been taking my laundry to a place on the way to work and getting everything service-washed, but I’ve been so busy lately that I keep forgetting to load the bin bags into the car in the mornings. After a lot of rummaging through piles of dirty clothes, I manage to find a vest and a pair of shorts that aren’t too filthy. They smell a little, but as I haven’t showered, I guess it doesn’t make much difference…

I grab my pocket book from my brief case and hurry upstairs to hand over the latest wad of dollar bills I owe for the work the builders are doing. Shane is the first of them I see. He’s just finishing plastering the landing. As it’s so hot, he’s only wearing his monkey boots and a pair of shorts. For a few seconds I watch him smoothing the wet plaster onto the wall, admiring the enormous skill with which he does so. Plastering really is an art…

Shane Mullen is incredibly hirsute, with a dense black mat covering his pectoral muscles and a thick treasure trail running down and disappearing into the waistband of his shorts. His muscular limbs are thick with body hair and there is also a light dusting of the stuff over his shoulders and back. Underneath these dark hairs almost his entire body is covered in intricate tribal tattoos which even extend onto the backs of his hands and neck. Although I’ve never particularly liked tattoos, I have to say that these are very well done and really suit him. Since the weather turned so hot and the builders began stripping to the waist, I’ve noticed that they’ve both had their nipples pierced with small steel rings. I’ve never seen men with such piercings before and I wonder whether it’s something gay guys do…

“Hi Shane, I’ve got some money for you,” I say, opening my pocket book.

Shane puts down the trowel, wipes his hands on a damp cloth and takes the cash. He counts the notes and then, apparently satisfied, folds them in half and sticks them in the back pocket of his filthy jeans. Then he looks at me and smiles and I find I’m losing myself in his dazzling green stare again. I totally relax, all the stress of work immediately falling from my shoulders. Shane starts talking to me in his deep and measured voice, but I’m so zoned out I can’t reply. His words flow over me and I just stand there on the landing, my mouth gaping open, staring into his eyes. I’m kind of hearing what he’s saying, but I’m not really listening and I can’t comprehend what he’s actually going on about. I’m half-aware that a thin stream of drool is starting to trickle from between my parted lips down onto my suit jacket, but I can’t seem to snap out of my trance. This phenomenon has been occurring quite often lately and I even mentioned it to Cassie last weekend. She thought it might be stress-related, like my continuing impotence. These weird episodes happen with either Shane or Colin almost every day now and I’m sure they must both think I’m some kind of moron or something…

Suddenly my head seems to clear and I finally manage to understand Shane’s words: “Good boy, Timmy,” he’s saying, still smiling at me. “We’re almost finished up here for the day. Why don’t you go fetch us some beers?”

These strange moments of frozen blankness, bizarre though they are, always leave me feeling totally happy and relaxed. Feeling much better than I did when I walked into the house, I go downstairs to the kitchen and grab a couple of cold tins. Shane, Colin and I drink so much of the stuff that I recently bought a special beer refrigerator. In heatwaves like this, chilled lager really hits the spot…

When I return to the landing, I find that Colin has joined Shane. The two builders are locked in a steamy embrace, kissing each other on the mouth and running their hands over each other’s scantily-clad butt cheeks. Not having much experience of gay men, I was shocked on the first occasion I saw them doing this, but now I’ve gotten used to it and, straight though I am, I have to admit that the sight of two muscular, masculine dudes, all tatted up, pushing their tongues down each other’s throats, is kind of erotic. Neither of them see me approach, so, not wishing to interrupt their romantic moment, I place their beers down on the floor and retreat back downstairs.

As I fry beef steaks for the three of us, I wish that my relationship with Cassie was as hot as that of the builders. For the past month, although we’ve spent every weekend together at her place, we’ve been unable to have sex due to my dick’s total refusal to get hard. Ironically, standing here in the kitchen cooking dinner, I’ve got a throbbing erection which is tenting my shorts. I never seem to have any problems here at home, but the moment I’m with Cassie it’s like I’m a tired old man or something. Cassie thinks I should go see a therapist about my ‘little problem’ as she calls it, but I don’t really have time at the moment with work going so badly…

This month has turned out to be total hell at the office… The project I’m working on is in the middle of a real difficult phase and somehow, I don’t seem to be able to solve the inevitable problems and setbacks which arise the same way I did with the last one. My brain feels foggy all day as though I’ve only just gotten out of bed. To try and compensate for this, I have taken to arriving at the office early and leaving real late. The only saving grace is that I don’t come home to an empty house each night…

Thank God for Shane and Colin, I think, as I turn the beef steaks over in the pan. Not only do the builders spend the whole day fixing the place up; they often cook a meal for me too. Okay, it’s generally frozen burgers, pizza or a fry-up when Shane or Colin do the catering, but it’s the thought that counts… It’s nice to have company in the evenings too.

After we eat our evening meal, the three of us sit together in the lounge as usual, watching a game on their outsize TV, chugging back a few beers and chatting about this and that. The builders smoke their small cigars and I savour the aroma. It goes very well with a completely different smell that I’ve also begun to notice recently; their sweaty armpits. Naturally, this smell is always stronger when they strip down to their vests, or go bare-chested like they’re doing now it’s so hot, but I can detect it whenever I’m near either of them these days, whatever they’re wearing. It’s not at all nasty like body odour usually is. It’s a kind of raw animal smell; musky, a bit funky perhaps, but far from unpleasant.

I find it comforting because it’s a sign that Shane and Colin are someplace nearby…

The next day is finally Friday, thank goodness. After an excellent night’s sleep, I head into the bathroom and again try stepping into the shower. A few seconds later I’m leaning over the toilet chucking my guts up. Fuck! What’s the matter with me? For some reason, even the thought of washing myself is totally disgusting. Eventually, after I finish being sick, I manage to wipe my face and hands with a damp flannel and slosh some mouthwash around my teeth and gums.

I don’t have a clean shirt to put on, so I resurrect the one I wore yesterday. Luckily, I hung it up next to my suit, so it’s not too badly creased. There’s a small stain down the front of it, but this will mostly be hidden by my tie…

As soon as I’m dressed, I make a pot of fresh coffee and then take a cup for each of the builders upstairs on a tray. I knock on their bedroom door for the sake of politeness, but they never reply first thing in the morning, so I just enter anyway. Shane and Colin are lying next to each other on their double bed, their bodies a tangle of limbs amid the crumpled sheets. I can’t help wondering if they had great sex last night or not; the state of their bedding certainly suggests that they did… The air is so thick with their combined musk that I feel quite light-headed as I cross over to place the tray of coffees on one of the night-stands next to their bed.

“Morning, guys!” I say cheerfully, pulling back the drapes to flood the room with sunlight. Although it’s not too warm yet, it’s still early and the day looks set to be another scorcher…

The two men stir and stretch their muscular arms lazily above their heads. Shane sits up in bed, passes one of the steaming cups of coffee to his friend and then takes one for himself. He takes a sip and smiles. “Excellent. Well done, Timmy…”

I can’t help grinning when Shane says this. I feel so great when I get praise from these guys… “Do you want anything else?” I ask.

Shane shakes his head. “No thanks, Timmy. You need to get to work. You don’t want to be late…”

It’s another very trying day at the office. My team and I keep running into problems with our project and, while this is normal, I’m finding every issue we come across impossible to solve, which is not. We’re now six working days behind schedule and I’m getting stressed about next week’s looming board meeting. I just know the directors are going to roast me alive… Not only is the work going badly, but I’m feeling real grungy due to not having showered since yesterday morning. I hope this weird water phobia passes soon as I can tell that my colleagues are underwhelmed by my rather scruffy appearance, to say the least. I haven’t shaved, my shirt is grubby and my suit looks pretty crumpled. While I’m dwelling on this, I realise that, yet again, I’ve forgotten to bring my dirty clothes to take to the laundry…

Cassie’s away seeing her parents this weekend, so it’s going to be just us three guys together at the house. Perversely, I feel somewhat relieved. Going over to Cassie’s place is a real effort and I much prefer being in my own place, to be honest. I’m also worried that I might not be able to perform properly with her in bed. My dick has been like a piece of chewed string the last few times I’ve seen her and thinking about my impotence stresses me out completely…

When I get home, I see that Shane and Colin have been to the food store again and the fridge is crammed full with all the things they like. I’m not totally unhappy about this. I’m kind of getting used to pizza, hamburgers, fries and mayo now. “Comfort food,” Shane calls it and he’s right – I feel much more relaxed after I eat their food than I did with the stuff I used to buy. It also saves me the trouble of going to the store. I help myself to a beer, grab two more for the builders and wander upstairs to see how they’re getting on with their work.

They’re not on the landing, so I enter their bedroom and hear a faint grunting sound coming from the adjoining bathroom. The atmosphere is heavy with the musky aroma of their sweat and I find myself sniffing it with relish.

Colin is lying on the bathroom floor struggling to do up a large nut with his spanner. Shane is nowhere to be seen. “Gimme a hand with this, will ya, Timmy? It’s leaking…”

I can’t help smiling. ‘Timmy’ is their pet name for me and I love it when they call me that. No one’s used this name since I was about four years old. It makes me feel real special…

Setting down the beers, I kneel on the floor next to Colin, but I’m at a loss as to what to do next. Truth is, I’m a total ass at home improvements… “Just help me tighten this thing up…”

I put my hands over his and together, we exert our combined strength to tighten the nut. Colin’s hands are so large compared to mine and much warmer… Touching his skin feels electric… As I grimace with the effort, I notice the beautiful bluebirds on his hands and the words ‘LOVE’ and ‘HATE’ inked across his fingers and kind of wish that I could also decorate my body with a few tatts. This close up, the smell of Colin’s armpits is almost overpowering. Again, I find myself deliberately breathing in through my nose so I can savour it properly. Eventually, we manage to turn the nut so that the dripping stops.

Colin sits up and sticks a cigar in his mouth. “Light this for me, Timmy…”

I scramble to pick up his lighter, which is lying near the door and spark his cigar.

“Good boy…” Colin smiles, breathing out a stream of smoke. “How was work today?”

I shake my head. “Terrible… My project’s going real badly and my boss is pissed with me.”

“Don’t worry about it, Timmy; you’re back home again now, so everything’s okay…”

I nod. It’s true; I do feel much better being at home…

Colin says a particular word. I don’t quite catch what it is, but I know it’s real important and I feel instantly calm when he utters it. Crouching next to him on the bathroom floor, my tense shoulders relax and I’m totally lost in his incredible cobalt blue stare. His voice is beautiful too; so soothing and melodious. He says a lot of things to me, and, although I’m not exactly sure what they are, I know they’re designed to help and advise me…

Then, as suddenly as it started, the moment passes. Colin grins and breaks his intense stare.

“Where’s Shane?” I ask, finding I’m able to speak once more.

“He drove into town to pick up some sacks of cement. We’re going to start laying the basement floor on Sunday. Don’t worry, Timmy; he’ll be back soon.” Colin scrambles to his feet. “I’ve done enough work for today and there’s a game I wanna catch on TV. Why don’t you go fix us all some dinner? I think I feel like burgers and fries tonight…”

I spend the next half hour happily cooking our meal and when Shane and Colin wander into the kitchen to eat, I offer them another nice cold beer to go with their food. To my surprise, Shane refuses his tin.

“No thanks, Timmy – I’m driving.” Shane says, tucking into his meal. “We’re going out later to see an old school friend of ours. He lives quite a few miles away, so we’re gonna spend the night at his place and won’t be back until the morning…”

I pick at my food feeling miserable. It’s been a while since I spent any time here alone and now I’m going to have to stay in this empty house all night without Shane and Colin here to protect me. To be honest, I feel a bit scared…

As if sensing my trepidation, Shane looks at me sympathetically with his sparkling green eyes. “Don’t worry Timmy, we’ll both be back first thing tomorrow morning…”

That night, I don’t sleep at all well. I lie in bed imagining that every tiny noise I hear is a gang of intruders breaking into the house. I really miss Shane and Colin’s comforting presence upstairs. Just knowing they are there makes all the difference to me. I try to tell myself that I lived here on my own totally happily for months before the two builders arrived on the scene, but it’s no use; I still feel vulnerable and unsafe. Eventually I drop off, but when my phone alarm buzzes me awake the next morning, I’m utterly exhausted.

As I climb out of bed, still feeling groggy, I hear someone hammering on the front door. It turns out to be a delivery man with a van full of some very large boxes and crates. “Delivery for Mr Mullen,” the guy says.

I feel totally confused. I’m still only half-awake and I don’t remember ordering anything. I shake my head from side to side, not knowing quite what to say. The delivery guy is looking at me as though I’m a total retard. I think he feels as relieved as I do when we both see Shane and Colin’s truck approaching up the drive.

“It’s okay, we’ve got this, Timmy; go back in the house,” Shane says, shaking the delivery man’s hand and then signing for the goods.

“I don’t remember ordering all this,” I say, glancing nervously at the pile of crates in the van. It looks like a lot of stuff…

Shane grins. “Don’t worry so much, Timmy… It’s just some things I’ve ordered for the basement. Nothing to do with you…”

I nod and wander back into the kitchen to fix our breakfast.

The rest of that Saturday goes by pretty quickly. Shane and Colin continue plastering upstairs while I clean downstairs, cook meals and try to catch up with some of the programming for my work project. Compared to housework, computing is real tough. For some weird reason, I can’t rightly remember exactly what any of the problems were that my team and I discovered last week. Looking at all those long rows of numbers is incredibly boring and gives me a headache after only a few minutes. I find myself wandering upstairs every so often to see how Shane and Colin are getting on, using the tins of soda or fresh coffee I’ve brought up for them as an excuse.

“Thanks, Timmy,” Shane says, stepping down from the stepladder and grabbing the cup of latte from the tray I’m carrying. He lights up a cigar and looks around at one of the spare bedrooms he’s just re-plastered. “Looks pretty good, huh?”

I nod in agreement, feeling almost dizzy with an excitement that’s only partly due to the pinkish-grey mirror-smooth walls. Impressive though Shane’s immaculate plasterwork is, it is the man’s amazing musky body aroma that’s really sending my brain spinning. After being separated from it even for a short time, it’s great to experience its full power once again.

Seeing my nostrils quivering, Shane grins and lifts up one arm so that I can smell him even more strongly. In a kind of daze, I find myself leaning in closer and closer, until my nose is buried in his thick black armpit hair. It’s silky and slightly moist with his sweat and the smell is overpoweringly amazing. I can’t prevent myself from sticking out my tongue and starting to lick the soft fur. The taste is so salty and delicious on my tongue that I feel my dick hardening in my pants.

I don’t rightly recall what happens in the minutes after that. It’s as though I’ve zoned out again for a while. The next thing I know, I’m still standing in the spare bedroom, but now, instead of licking his armpit, I’m staring up into Shane’s gorgeous green eyes while he whispers a lot of things to me. I realise that the things Shane is saying are all incredibly important, but I can’t remember exactly what they are. It’s as if they are totally bypassing my conscious mind. As Shane continues to talk, I get the weirdest sense that this has all happened before and that he’s just repeating the same stuff that I’ve heard many times in the past…

Sunday morning dawns, bright and sunny. I jump out of bed feeling incredibly happy for some unknown reason. Hurrying into the kitchen, I quickly prepare coffee for the two builders, load up the tray and carry it upstairs to their bedroom.

Today, for the first time, they are actually having sex when I enter the room. I hesitate in the doorway, watching in fascination as they fuck doggy-fashion, Shane bent face-down over the end of the bed, with Colin thrusting away into his ass from behind. For some reason, I’m surprised that Colin appears to be the ‘top’ in this relationship. Whenever I thought about it before, I always imagined that this role would be taken by Shane. I guess that in homosexual sex, there is no way of telling… Perhaps they take it in turns?

The odour of their writhing, sweat-soaked bodies is over-powering and I stand transfixed with their musk filling my nostrils as they moan and buck together in front of me. My own dick is so hard that I feel that I might cum in my shorts without even touching it…

A few moments later, Colin lets out a long moan of pleasure, withdraws his cock from his lover’s ass and shoots his load over Shane’s swirling tribal buttock tattoos. I notice that Colin has a black stallion inked on his own right butt-cheek with the word ‘STUD’ tattooed underneath it. Under the circumstances, the design seems very appropriate…

After kissing each other on the mouth, Shane and Colin finally notice me standing in the doorway with the tray in my hands. They both grin, but do not appear in the least embarrassed. Their cocks are both still erect and dripping with their love juices. Suddenly, my mouth feels very dry…

“Thanks, Timmy; just put our coffees on the night-stand,” Colin says.

I do as he asks, my dick still tenting my shorts very noticeably.

“Go fix some bacon and eggs,” Shane says. “We’ll be down in a few minutes after we’ve taken a shower…”

“We’re gonna need your help down in the basement today, Timmy,” Shane says as he wolfs down his breakfast. “We’re putting a gym, laundry room, shower and sauna down there, but we need to plaster the walls and lay the new floor first…”

I nod my head. Although I don’t remember discussing plans for the basement with the builders, their ideas sound good and assisting them will probably be a lot of fun. I’ve not helped Shane and Colin very much with their work so far and I have the feeling that I will enjoy it…

Colin puts down his fork and pushes his empty plate in my direction. “Okay, that’s all for now, Timmy… Wash up the dishes and get yourself ready. We’ll see you outside in around half an hour…”

The rest of the morning is pretty back-breaking. Shane shows me how he makes cement in the mixer he’s got churning away in the yard and I carry bucket after bucket of the stuff down to the basement where Colin pours it out and smooths it all down. Apparently, they’re eventually going to cover this cement base with some fancier flooring, but not before the brick walls are plastered, tiled or sealed. The basement is large, covering exactly the same area as the ground floor. Bare brick walls divide it into two large spaces and three smaller ones. Being below ground, the only natural illumination comes from tiny barred windows situated high up near the ceiling. Even on such a bright day as this, it’s pretty dark down here without electric light…

We have pizza for dinner and I’m so tired after carrying all that cement that I nearly fall asleep on the sofa once I’ve had a couple of beers. I’m feeling real comfortable sitting cuddled up on the sofa between the two builders, my head resting gently on Shane’s his broad chest. One of his muscular arms is wrapped around me, making me feel totally safe and secure. They’re both smoking cigars, as usual, and I’m enjoying the smell of those mixed with their beautiful musk. We’re all staring at a basketball game on our huge TV, but the sound is turned off and Shane is whispering stuff to me again. Real important stuff…

That night, I go to bed feeling exhausted, but it’s a healthy physical tiredness, not the stress-inducing brain weariness of office work. Somehow, this makes me real happy. Although I’m real sleepy, I think again about licking Shane’s armpit and about the sex scene I witnessed upstairs this morning and my dick gets as hard as an iron bar. Although it was gay love, it was unbelievably erotic; hotter than any porn I’ve ever seen in my life. I wonder if maybe I have gay feelings myself. If so, it’s weird that it’s taken until I’m twenty-seven for them to become apparent. Whatever my sexuality may be, it only takes a few seconds of picturing Colin humping Shane’s tight bubble-shaped ass to make my own cum flow…

As I drive towards work the following morning, I feel totally sick. Not only do I hate being outside the house without Shane or Colin next to me, I’m scared at the thought of the total fuck-up I’m making of my project. I don’t feel at all confident about my appearance either. I still can’t use the shower and haven’t shaved for four days. Yet again, I’ve failed to remember to get my clothes laundered, so I’m wearing a dirty shirt, dirty socks and dirty underwear. After yesterday’s hard physical labour, I must stink to high heaven. It’s the very opposite of power-dressing…

When I reach the office, the day proves to be as bad as I feared it would be. Everything my colleagues say to me sounds like total nonsense and I sit through a series of boring meetings unable to understand what anyone is going on about. I keep feeling like an imposter, as though I’m there under false pretences. Somehow, I know in my heart that I’m not quite bright enough to hold down a brainy high-level job like this. For some weird reason, this realisation makes me smirk and I glance up to see that everyone sitting around the table is staring at me as though I’ve gone totally crazy. My boss visits my office just before I leave and tells me that not only do I look and smell like shit, my project is now seriously behind schedule. After he leaves, I escape to the executive restroom and stare at my reflection in the mirror above the washbasins. The Boss is right; I do look incredibly scruffy… I’ve almost got a beard growing on my face and my hair has gotten so long it looks untidy and is touching my shirt collar. My suit looks crumpled and my shirt is filthy…

It’s the next day when the shit really hits the fan. When I get to the office I’m told that the Board are holding an emergency meeting about my project which began ten minutes ago. Apparently, I’m late for work…

Thirty gut-wrenching minutes later, I’m walking back out to the parking lot. I’ve been taken off the project and relieved of all my current management responsibilities. They told me to clear my desk and go home. I’ve been placed on compulsory paid leave for the next twenty-eight days. They all think there’s something seriously wrong with me and suggested I see a doctor or a psychologist, or both. I can’t help smiling at that. The sense of relief I feel when I fasten the seat belt around my body and switch on the ignition is incredibly intense. I feel liberated. I’m getting away from this stressful dump and going home to be with Shane and Colin…

Please use the controls below to rate this story
Hot
Mind control
Wanking material
Writing
Idea
You've created tags exclusively for this story! Please avoid exclusive tags!