Cat Call

By Gayborhood -
published October 3, 2016
3383 words

A cat-calling construction worker gets a taste of his own medicine when a curse makes him irresistible to men

On days like this, Jones hated working outside.

The humidity’s what got yo him. On days like this, he couldn’t help but sweat through his clothes. Two hours on the construction site and he felt like a basted turkey. And sure, he sweated less than the other guys, but at least the other guys had things to keep their mind busy. Jones just had to hold the sign, flip the sign, wave folks through. The best he could do to keep his mind going was people watch.

At least the people were fun to watch on days like this. Short skirts, tank tops, jogging shorts, everything a man could want. When the sun was out, ladies just showed more. And the ladies in this city made a man want to whistle. Well, Jones wanted to, anyway. His co-workers hated his tendency to catcall. Said it gave them a bad name. How could he help himself around pieces like this, though? How could any man resist admiring a pair of tits stretching through a tight tank-top?

“Hey baby,” he crooned, as a luscious example strolled by, “nice day, isn’t it?”

The woman, a blonde business type in a sexy red suit, ignored him. He could see the disdain in her vacant eyes.

“Ah, come on,” he called at her as she passed, “where you going? Bring those legs back my way. Whatever, it’s all good. You’re as nice to watch going as you were coming. Bet I could get you coming though.”

“Fuck off.” She replied, finally, clutching her purse and quickening her pace.

“Fuck you.” Jones sneered. “Ugly tramp. You know you like it.”

She stopped, and swung on her heels. Her eyes were hot coals.

“How’d you like it?” She asked.

“What’s that, doll?” Jones mocked.

“Shut up.” She snapped. “You think I like getting harassed on the way to work every day?”

“I think you like having someone admire you.” James replied.

“Would you?” The woman asked, with knives in her voice. “Would you like having someone ‘admire’ you, every hour of every day?”

“If a lady told me she liked how I looked, I’d take the compliment.” Jones shrugged. “What is wrong with you, lady?”

“Would you like it if a man did it?” She asked. She was getting in Jones’s face now. The air was tense. “Would you like if a man wanted to grab your ass?”

“The fuck you talking about?” Jones said. “I’m no queer.”

She reached out and grabbed Jones’s neck, under the chin. He wanted to retaliate, swing at her, but something made him freeze.

“You said you’d take a compliment.” Her eyes gleamed now. “You’d like it, wouldn’t you?”

His throat tingled from her touch, his mind swam from the fire in her gaze. He averted his eyes.

“I guess I can’t blame someone for admiring me.” He replied.

“Oh, you’ll like it.” She said, shoving him back. “You won’t be able to help yourself.”

A flash came over Jones’s vision. The air around him felt blurry, unrefined. Like a fog had descended over the city. It was cold, freezing even, and he hunched over to try and get some warmth. A tingle started in his gut, a strange sensation he’d never felt before. It started to grow, warming his body, suffusing his limbs. When the tingle hit his brain, the feeling subsided, and he could see again. The woman was gone.

“The fuck was that?” He said to himself. “Anyone else see that?”

He looked around. No one.

“Hey, Pat?” He called out. His co-worker was carrying a buzz-saw through the site. “You see that?”

“See what?” Pat stopped, and looked at Jones. His eyes darted down, then came back up.

“That lady. She just blew some weird shit in my face. Made me all light-headed.”

Pat’s eyes went back down. He was staring at something.

“Yo, Pat!”

“Huh?” Pat darted his eyes back up. “Sorry, man. What were you saying?”

“Forget it.” Jones replied.

“Hey, Jones!” A voice called out behind him. He turned to see Frank coming for him. “Boss wants to see you. I’ll take over that.” Frank grabbed the sign.

“Uh, thanks.” Pat replied. As he turned again to go to the portable office, he could feel his co-workers’ eyes following him. He felt weird.

Turning the corner, he walked past the cones they had set up along the sidewalk, past the yellow tape, and past two college kids lounging against a building across the street. They looked to be around twenty. When he saw them, Jones felt something he couldn’t place. A kind of dreadful expectation.

“Hey there.” One of the kids called out. “Where you going, boy?”

Jones said nothing, and glued his eyes to the sidewalk. The word “boy” shot a spark through him, and collected in his stomach. That same tingle from before. What was going on?

The office was a mess. A hurricane of papers lined the desk, the shelves, even the floor. Boss Simmons wasn’t known for his tidiness. Jones had to climb over a couple discarded windbreakers to get to Simmons’s desk. The boss had his head down, writing something.

“Hey, Jones.” Simmons said, keeping his eyes on the desk. “There’s a bit of a snafu in the computer system, and none of the checks got deposited this week. You mind handing them out?”

“Why me?” Jones asked.

“Because I have to get these reports finished before tonight.” Simmons scowled. “And because you’re a jackass who needs to do what he’s told.”

Simmons glanced up, looked back down, then looked back up. His scowl melted into something else. Confusion?

“Is that a new shirt?” He asked.

“Nah,” Jones replied, looking down at his grimy T, framed by his orange vest. The shirt was white, though the sweat soaking through had darkened it. No one had ever commented on this shirt. “I wear this every week, boss. Why?”

“Looks nice.” Simmons explained, then nodded his head with a smirk. “Would look better on the floor.”

The sentence hung over the silence like fog. Simmons blinked twice, as confused by his own words as Jones was. His expression showed something Jones couldn’t place, something he had never seen on a man’s face before. Even stranger was the urge which welled up in Jones’s stomach. A ball of heat which expanded throughout his body. His vest slid back without notice. He could feel his fingers grasping the fabric of his tee, peeling it up over his shoulders. The sweat which clung to his shirt now glistened across his bare chest. He threw the shirt to the floor. His boss stared at him for a few moments.

“Don’t, uh,” Simmons started, his voice husky, “don’t forget your vest.”

Jones turned around, bent over to grab his vest. He knew the boss’s eyes were on his ass. He turned around, slipped the vest back on, left it open. Simmons leaned back in the chair and sighed.

“A-anyway,” Simmons said, rubbing his eyes, “here are the checks.” He grabbed a cluster of paper on his desk.

Jones reached out, grabbing the seven envelopes. His calloused hands rubbed against Simmons’s smoother skin, and another spark hit his stomach. He had to get out of here. Backing slowly out of the office, he tried to ignore Simmons’s continued stare, and noticed the dingy shirt he had thrown down.

It really did look better on the floor.

Whistles followed him back along the sidewalk. The lanky students had crossed over to Jones’s side of the street, drinking in his body.

“I knew you’d come back this way, boy.” The taller one called out. “Looking good. I’d like to get my tongue over those man-titties.”

The shorter student laughed. “Man, that’s messed up, man.”

“L-leave me alone.” Jones muttered.

“What was that?” The student put a hand to his ear. “I can’t hear you. Why don’t you come over here, boy?”

Jones gave the kid a death stare as he walked past. And then, without a thought, he stopped right in front of them. His feet wouldn’t move.

The kid sputtered for a bit.

“I, uh,” the taller kid muttered, “I’m not sure why I, uh…”

Jones jutted his chest out. He pressed the vest back, revealing his hairy pecs. His nipples came to attention, drawing the eye of the boy.

“What were you saying about my tits?” Jones asked.

The air was heavy again. The student leaned forward, slowly, parting his lips. His eyes looked pained and confused. His tongue peeked out from his mouth, beyond his control, giving a tentative lick to Jones’s left nipple. The construction worker growled in delight. The student gasped, then dove in, sucking at the hairy teat. The student’s eyes closed, and his look of pain melted into one of acceptance and desire. He slid his hand into his own jeans and fondled his junk while leaning into Jones like a starving baby.

“The fuck?” The short kid stared bug-eyed at his friend, who was suckling a grown man. “Jake? The fuck is up with you, man?”

“Mmmph,” was all Jake could say in reply. He sucked greedily between moans, saliva dripping out of his mouth and down Jones’s torso. The man pulled the boy in closer, reeling from the sparks which shot through his body from his chest to his crotch. The envelopes fell from his hands and scattered across the sidewalk. Jones’s own cock strained against his jeans and poked out from the top of his briefs, but his hands were too occupied holding the student in place.

Jake, the boy, opened his jeans, which fell to the ground. Jake’s hand flew up and down his own dick, crazed with lust. His desperate moans were muffled by Jones’s pecs, and he started to shake. Ropes of cum spewed from the tall boy’s cock and stained Jones’s jeans. His lips broke the seal around the man’s nipple and cried out in ecstasy. His friend, disgusted by the display, looked awkwardly in the distance while Jake fell back against the wall and slid to the floor, dribbling cum on the sidewalk.

Jones rubbed his crotch and watched the kid panting on the ground. Then he noticed the discarded checks, and cursed himself. The boss would never let him live this down. He bent over and collected the envelopes, turning in a slow circle on the sidewalk. As he turned towards the street, with his backside to the students, he heard a drawn-out whistle, and froze.

“Damn!” exclaimed Jake’s friend, suddenly cured of his stupor. “I see what it’s about now, dude. Look at that ass, boy! Why don’t you go ahead and back that up a bit?”

Jones sighed, grabbed the last envelope, and set the collection down on the sidewalk in a neat bunch. Then he brought his hands to his knees, arched his back, and waited.

“Mmm,” the boy hummed, walking forward and grasping Jones’s waist. “That’s what I like right there.” He pressed his crotch into the back of Jones’s jeans, sucked some air in, and then swatted at the ample ass in front of him. The sudden movement surprised Jones, who jerked up a bit, and found himself embraced by the kid. The college student’s hands rubbed the man’s sweaty torso, feeling under the construction vest, tweaking the nipples, getting a taste of what had seduced his friend. The boy started to hump the construction worker’s jeans while snaking fingers down towards the man’s crotch. He found the cum stain Jake had left, and smeared it around.

“Looks like my buddy made a mess of you.” The young guy cooed. “Better let me take care of that.”

Before Jones could respond, the buttons on his jeans snapped open, his zipper came down, and the boy let the man’s jeans sink to the ground, where Jones tried to step out of them. He started to lean down, and then felt fingers clasp his shoulder and jerk him back.

“I said,” the boy growled, “let me take care of that.

Jones moaned, and submitted to the boy half his age. The kid slid slowly down his back and grabbed the legs of the man’s jeans, giving Jones the leverage he needed to slip out of them. After getting one leg out, Jones felt the boy’s face press into the sweat-soaked briefs and take a deep whiff. The mixture of salt and flesh proved too much, and the kid started biting and clawing at the fabric, which clung to Jones’s hairy ass like an orange peel. The boy tore a hole in the briefs, and his tongue lashed out to pleasure Jones’s quivering hole.

“Ohhh!” Jones shouted. For the first few seconds, he couldn’t figure out what he was feeling, besides intense pleasure. When he finally figured out what was happening, a shudder ran through him, making his ass shake around the boy’s face. He could hear the rustle of a belt as his second seducer started to jerk off, moaning and groaning into Jones’s hole and sending vibrations into the man’s body. This kid seemed just as short-fused as his buddy, his voice growing more and more desperate. The kid’s tongue entered Jones, setting off a spasm in the man, which in turn sent the boy over the edge. The student fell back, bucking his hips, soaking his polo with ropes of cum.

“What the fuck,” the kid whimpered, still stroking his spent cock. “What the fuck.”

Jones tried to get as much composure as a man could with his ass hanging out, and retrieved the paychecks.

The on-going construction work ended the second Jones’s tattered frame came into view. Jones couldn’t place the energy in the air. He expected them to burst out laughing at any moment, but no noise came at all. A laugh would probably ease the tension. They stared at him, first in shock, then disbelief, then something else.

Finally, Pat broke the silence with a whistle.

“Simmons find you a new outfit?” The man asked.

“Something like that.” Jones replied. His skin felt hot.

“Gotta say, man,” Pat continued, “honestly? A good look for you.”

“Fuck off.”

“Nah, come on, man, don’t be like that. Give us a little twirl.”

Jones groaned as his feet started moving on their own. He turned slowly, methodically, giving the guys full view of his body. He bent over, arching his back, giving his co-workers a full view.

“Oooo-weee!” Frank shouted. “You’ve been holding out on us, haven’t you, boy?”

“I changed my mind.” Pat smirked.

“Huh-” Jones started, then gasped when he felt Pat’s arms around him.

“The vest is a good look,” Pat explained, “but these raggedy briefs have got to go.”

Pat’s fingers traveled down Jones’s torso, ripping the already torn-up briefs to shreds. Jones’s cock sprang out from the fabric, throbbing. He could feel the lump in Pat’s jeans pressing into him, humping him. He looked down, and saw a greasy handprint staining his naked chest. He felt dirty. He felt hot. He wanted to be used. When he heard Pat spit, he quivered in anticipation.

His new seducer’s pants were discarded with rapid speed, and soon a slicked-up prick was pressing against Jones’s virgin hole. Jones had no idea what to expect, but just the feeling of a cock against his anus made him go crazy. He bucked his hips backwards to encourage the conquest.

“Better bend him over, bud. Share the love”

Jones opened his eyes and saw Frank standing before him. Frank had stripped down completely, and was stroking he massive cock. Once Jones got a look at it, he couldn’t look away. Frank pressed against the back of his head to pulled him into a bow. Frank’s dick poked into Jones’s nose, filling it with the smell of sweat and sex. Jones’s lips started to part.

Just then, Pat entered him, and Jones lost control for a moment. He forgot about Frank’s cock, he forgot about being in public, he forgot about everything but the sensation filling his ass. A greased-up dick sliding in and out of him, poking him in places he didn’t know he had. That tight ball of heat which first attacked him in Simmons’s office grew into an inferno, an ache for the touch of men.

Something slapped against the side of his face, and Jones remembered his duty to Frank’s cock. He opened his mouth and engulfed the rod with his lips. His tongue wiggled around, getting a feel for the hot, rock hard flesh which was filling him up. Frank’s hips moved backwards, pulling his wet dick from Jones’s greedy mouth. Jones moaned, licking and panting at the air, trying to find Frank’s cock again.

Then he felt Pat skewering him from behind, poking something inside of him that made his whole body tremble. A pang of pleasure pierced through him, making him lose track of Frank once more. Jones tried to moan again, but was interrupted by Frank taking control, face-fucking him. The moan deteriorated into a mess of desperate garbles.

“What are you doing to me?” Pat groaned. “This is the best fuck I’ve ever had.”

His thrusts were gaining in speed. The air was filled with testosterone, with the musk of sex, with the wet slapping sound of one man fucking another. Jones could feel both men tensing up, getting to the point of no return.

Frank broke first. He roared as his cock thrust deep into Jones’s throat, quivering and shouting as cum forced itself down the bottom’s gullet. Jones felt himself starting to choke, and coughed in relief as Frank finally dislodged himself and stumbled to the ground. The man shook with delight on the pavement as aftershocks pulled a few stray drops from his dick.

The sight clearly sent Pat over the edge, as he gripped Jones’s hips and rocked the man’s insides with a jackhammering cock. He pulled out, and Jones felt ropes of hot jizz streaking across his back.

Jones took a moment to catch his breath. His own cock was pulsing, desperate for release, but Jones wanted more. He pulled himself up out of the bow, stretching his arms to the sky. He looked down at Frank, who had passed through the afterglow and now looked confused as hell. Jones looked up, into a forming crowd, and remembered that they had an audience.

The rest of the crew, the boys from the corner, and Simmons were all there. They were joined by at least a dozen strangers, businessmen, skaters, and one very confused priest. All were in various states of undress, and all were pleasuring themselves at the sight before them. Jones looked from face to face, a sea of eyes filled with desire. “Uh -”

He didn’t get a chance to say whatever he was going to. The seal broke, and the crowd of men descended on him. They pawed at him, groping his greasy chest, poking his worn-out ass, kneading his balls. Frank closed his eyes and felt himself lifted up by the crowd, fingers and tongues and cocks exploring every part of him. He whimpered and cooed as his body lost control, submitting the will of a mob.

He screamed as the first orgasm finally came, giving him a bit of release. As he rode the waves of pleasure, he felt another slicked-up cock pressing into him. He couldn’t escape. He saw, felt, tasted, and heard nothing but sex.

Then, somewhere in the distance, he swore he could hear a woman’s laugh.

Mind control
Wanking material
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