The Handyman and the Ceiling Fan

Installing a ceiling fan is something I suppose that I could have done myself, but after I passed 60 I've discovered that getting up on ladders doesn't have the appeal that it once did, so with that in mind I decided to let a professional do it this time.

When the man arrived last Tuesday morning, I was positive that I had made the right decision, because the guy the outfit sent was a gorgeous specimen of manhood. Not only did he have a ruggedly handsome face with long dirty blond hair and an engaging smile, but he had a body that looked chiseled under a blue work shirt with cutoff sleeves that exposed all of his massive biceps.

I figure he was probably in his mid 20's, and for a brief second I thought to myself that maybe thirty years ago I looked a lot like him, and then quickly dismissed it because while I did have dirty blonde hair and briefly fooled around with weights, that was where the similarities ended.

My handyman, whose name was Jesse, was about 6' tall and maybe 200 pounds, and it didn't look like any of it was fat. The man's arms were huge, with biceps the size of my thighs these days, and while he played around up on the stepladder I volunteered my services so he didn't have to keep getting up and down the ladder.

"My pleasure," I told Jesse after he thanked me for my offer of assistance, and it truly was pleasure for me getting to stand close to the hunk while he played around with the wiring above his head.

This gave me a perfect view of the muscles in his arms bulging as he reached and contorted. Even his armpits had muscles, I noted while watching the tendons ripple under the delightful spray of golden hair that sprouted from the deep pockets of his armpits, and even though he caught me staring at him a few times it was worth the risk.

I could always pull the old Uncle Leo routine from Seinfeld, insisting, "But I'm an old man," as a reason for my behavior, but he didn't say a word as I observed, and while I'm sure it was my imagination in thinking that he was taking his time up there on the step ladder, that was fine by me because I wasn't paying by the hour.

So I engaged in idle chatter with Jesse while looking him over as we stood so close that I could feel the heat radiating from his body and could inhale his manly aroma. Not a sweaty scent, although he was working up a little moisture, because odor would have done nothing for me. but a rich fragrance of some subtle body spray along with his natural nectar.

It was around the time that I was staring at his legs after handing Jesse some electrical tape - and since he was wearing khaki shorts that made it all the better - the muscularity of his calves, dusted with more of that sparkling golden fur, suggested he spent a lot of time biking.

Anyway, at that point Jesse mentioned that I looked a little familiar to him, and while I had thought the same thing at first when I saw him and had dismissed it, I asked him whether he went to the track at all.

"I do, but that isn't where I remember seeing you," Jesse said, and after a moment's pause he asked, "You ever go to The Bunkhouse?"

After Jesse said that, I nearly dropped the glass globe I had been holding for him, because when he mentioned The Bunkhouse, we both suddenly knew each other very well. You see, while the bar has good chicken wings and a dandy selection of micro-brews, guys don't go there for that. Guys go there for guys, and while at my age I'm not a regular, I've been there on more than a few occasions, even if I was more of a spectator these days.

"I have from time to time," I replied after swallowing hard. "Seems I would have remembered seeing someone like you though."

Even though I would have immediately dismissed a guy like Jesse as being out of my league at The Bunkhouse, that wouldn't have stopped me from looking, but Jesse explained that he had been in a relationship for a while that had recently ended, but had gone there in the somewhat distant past.

What I would give to be 29 instead of in my sixties, I thought to myself while watching Jesse finish up, because while I had been a guy that liked older men when I was Jesse's age and younger, I could tell he likely wasn't that way, so I was left to fantasize while he wrapped up the job.

"Nice work," I told Jesse after he climbed down from the ladder, and after he gathered all his things together and gave me the invoice to sign, I told him that I would like to give him something for his time.

"Sorry, I appreciate it but I'm not allowed to accept gratuities," Jesse said, but then he mentioned that if we ran into each other at The Bunkhouse, I could buy him a drink if I wanted.

"Be glad to," I said, and for some reason I kept talking.

Maybe it's my advancing age, or perhaps I'm just weary of always having been the guy to hold my tongue instead of coming right out at saying what's on my mind, but anyway, I figured there was no harm in trying.

"I know you've got a bunch of other stops to make," I said as I handed him the signed invoice back, and hoped that he didn't noticed my somewhat shaky hand when I continued, "But I'd like to give you something - something you don't have to report to the IRS."

I then proceeded to tell him exactly what I wanted to give him. It was a toss-up as to who was more surprised when the words came out of my mouth, me or Jesse, but thankfully after he recovered from what I said, a little smile formed on his lips.

"I understand completely, if you'd rather..." I started to say, but he shook his head and stopped me.

"No no," Jesse said, the smile growing wide across his face, but instead of being merciful in declining my rather blunt offer, he surprised me by saying, "It's just that - frankly nobody has ever come right out and said that before."

"Guess I'm getting bold in my old age," I said, reaching over and putting my hand on the rock-hard bicep I had been ogling since we met. "I have been pretty much mentally undressing you since you got here, in case you didn't notice."

"I noticed," Jesse said, clenching his hand so the muscle I had been stroking bulged even larger.

"Glad you didn't mind."

"It's why I spend all that time in the gym," Jesse admitted. "Guess I get off on being looked at."

You must get off a lot, I thought to myself, because the way you look, there's no crime in being a bit narcissistic, but he really hadn't given me an answer.

"I'll be quick," I said, returning to the question, and Jesse's answer was to unhook his cell phone from his belt and lean back against the kitchen counter.

"Not TOO quick," he smiled, those pearly whites breaking my heart like they probably had countless others along the way. "Not expected back at the office until 11."

That gave us less than a half hour to do what I had offered to do a minute ago, which was to suck his cock like it had never been sucked before. Big talk, but I was so charged up I was ready to at least try to give him something to remember me by.

I undid his brown leather belt and undid the button on the top of his shorts but then stopped after they slid to his ankles, because I had been wanting to do something all along, and there was no time like the present.

Jesse didn't flinch when I grabbed his left wrist and raised his hand up behind his head, and when he didn't even blink when I leaned over and sunk my teeth gently into his bulging bicep, I threw caution to the winds and nibbled my way down and hoped that Jesse was an open-minded guy with sensitive underarms.

The intense heat emanating from his exposed armpit greeted my senses just before my mouth reached the deep pocket, and as the luscious aroma of body oil, musk and man filled my nostrils I let my tongue slid all over the moist spray of hair.

I felt Jesse's right hand grab the back of my thinning scalp, freezing me for a second before I realized he was holding my head right where it was, groaning as I nibbled and licked his armpit like the animal I felt I had become while squeezing his bicep.

My hand slid down and found the bulge in his underwear, and was happy that the bulge was not only as sizable as I had expected, it was growing under the oral attack of his armpit, so I slid down to my knees as gracefully as I could manage.

Jesse's thighs were huge and muscular, and the light dusting of golden down on them sparkled in the sunlight as I slid my hands along the rippled muscles before reaching up to grab the elastic of his underwear to free his arching manhood.

It was no surprise to see that Jesse's cock was every bit as sculpted as the rest of him as I dodged away from his manhood as it sprang free from the cotton pouch. Big, but not absurdly so, the cut tool was a perfect thickness, and I grabbed the root of his stiff seven inches with my right hand so I could lick the mushroom-shaped glans while my left hand cupped a weighty pair of balls that would have looked perfect on a bull.

The sound of Jesse groaning as my lips slid down the length of his member was music to my ears, and after a couple of trips down his cock I was able to take almost all of him in. I realized that in my excitement I was really squeezing and twisting his balls hard, but he seemed to be enjoying it so I didn't stop.

Torn between wanting this to last until my jaws locked up and understanding that Jesse had to get back to work soon, I tried to strike a happy balance. Teasing him with my tongue in between deepthroating him until the tip of his dick hit my throat, I think I was making an impression, judging by the way Jesse was running his fingers through my scalp in between grabbing my head hard.

His pre-cum tasted like cream as I flicked at the tender opening, enjoying the sight of the tiny tuft of golden curls above his muscled member, trimmed so I could see the network of veins at the base of his thick shaft, and that tongue play made his sap trickle out even faster.

I lapped at his over-sized ball sac, unable to open my mouth wide enough to take either of them in very well, before deciding that Jesse needed to cum, and I needed to taste his load, so I went to work for real.

My lips slid up and down his cock intensely, while from above I heard Jesse warn me about something that I knew was happening the way his tool throbbed in my mouth, and then he came, my hands grabbing his tight ass as he popped his load.

I gasped but didn't choke as he erupted, sending what felt like an absurd amount of warm seed down my throat, and after weathering the initial blasts I found myself trying to suck him dry while trying to swallow his deflating cock, with my fingers digging into his tight buttocks to keep him close.

Jesse reached down and grabbed my under my arms, lifting me up and embracing me while I returned the hug and caught my breath.

"You okay?" Jesse asked, and I could see a faint reflection of my face in the window, my complexion ruddy and sweaty, but I never felt better.

"I'm great," I assured him.

"I'll say," Jesse said, looking a bit flushed himself as he pulled up his briefs and shorts. "That was - I'm speechless. Thank you, man. That was..."

"My pleasure," I said as his goodies disappeared from view.

"Really gotta go," Jesse said.

"I know," I said.

"If I ever see you at The Bunkhouse, we'll have a drink," Jesse said before leaving, and we left it at that.

After getting a drink of water, enjoying the sweet taste of Jesse's cum before washing it away, I went to bed. Not tired, but there was something that I needed to take care of.

In a perfect world, Jesse would have had the interest and the time to reciprocate, but I understood. Looking at my weathered body in the mirror after undressing, I could realize why I would have little appeal for a hunk like Jesse. Even though I'm in decent shape for a guy my age, I'm still a guy my age.

The only part of me that didn't look my age was my cock, which was throbbing as it stuck out in front of me, and while it wasn't as impressive a package at my handyman's was, it was as hard as it had been in years.

I climbed onto the bed on my back and began stroking my cock while replaying the morning in my mind, and as my hand slid up and down my cock, I pretended that it was Jesse. It worked good too, because even though I was trying to delay cumming, I knew I couldn't last

Then the doorbell rang.

"Shit!" I had been so close, and while I was tempted to get myself off and ignore the bell, when it rang again I stopped and put a robe on. Every step of the way to the door I kept telling myself that if it was some kid selling magazines or some religious group handing out crap, I shouldn't do what I wanted to do, which was to kill them.

I peeked out the curtains, and saw it was Jesse. That was different, so I opened the door for him.

"Forget something?" I asked as I let him in, and I was a little embarrassed when I saw Jesse look at me in my bathrobe, knowing what he might be thinking.

"Yeah," Jesse said. "What you - we did. I couldn't just - you know?"

I didn't know, but seeing the Adonis looking awkward and shy was touching.

"I was brought up better than that," he said with a toothy grin. "Can't just cum and go, you know?"

"Hmm," Jesse said, smiling wider as he reached down and parted the bottom of my robe. "Guess I caught you at a bad time."

"Actually," I admitted, feeling a bit of pride at the sight up my cock pointing toward Jesse and him not laughing but just looking. "It was about to be a good time."

"Maybe I can make it even better," Jesse said before he knelt down while mentioning that he didn't get a break yet this morning before, and then his mouth took in my cock.

"OMIGOD!" I groaned, falling back against the wall while he inhaled my erection.

Seeing those golden locks bobbing down in front of me was erotic enough, but feeling Jesse suck my cock hard while twisting my sac like I had done his, made me realize that this would not last nearly long for me.

I was right about that, but it was one of the great minutes of my life, and when I came, I came so hard that I was hanging onto my young friend while grateful for the wall that was holding me up from behind.

After Jesse had drained me and gotten back to his feet, he asked me if I was alright again. This time he asked because I was tearing up a bit, but I nodded as I brushed the lone tear off of my cheek.

"Thank you," I said. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know," Jesse said. "I wanted to."

"That's what made it special," I told him, and then we hugged again while I reveled in the comforting feeling of his strong embrace.

"And I meant that about a drink sometime," Jesse said before leaving, and I told him I believed him.

It didn't mean that we were running to the altar or anything, but if it meant that some night if he was feeling lonely and ended up at the same gin-mill, we could exchange affection like this again, you can be sure that I was all for it.

And if we never run into each other at The Bunkhouse, I've still got a number of things that need doing around the house.

...

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