The Gardener Gets Fucked

Bryan was the gardener and maintenance guy. He was hired back in January, and he caught my eye, bundled up in a varsity letter jacket, shoveling snow from the walkways. When spring came, his attire changed to a orange v-neck baseball shirt and a red baseball cap, jeans and light brown Timberlands. Bryan was short, rather short, just 5'5", and that sizzled my desires. I'm a tall guy, 6'4", and I really dig short guys. For some reason, being bottom to a guy shorter than me really adds to the excitement. I'm sure a shrink could have a field day.

Bryan was Italian looking: black hair, kept pretty short, a close cropped mustache, and a smooth bright face. Yet his look was menacing. He had an air of 'back off motherfucker' about him. I never saw him smile. But yet, I'm sure he was a real cool person when around his friends. He was probably 24, yet he was the type who will look 24 when he's 35.

When the weather warmed, Bryan would work without a shirt. Just jeans, boots, and a baseball cap. The sight of him made me sigh out loud. He had that tight body, not a hair to be found, smooth and somewhat tan from working in the warm Virginia sun. His build was light, but he was a sight to behold.

I would jump from the couch every time I heard the maintenance cart drive by, hoping to catch a glimpse. I would drive from the complex and spot him digging in the dirt, so covered in sweat that I could see it glisten from a distance. Sometimes, when I was brave, I would go out on the patio, and just watch him clean out the pool, which was right outside my apartment. I would try to be coy, and not stare in his direction, but his size and incredible body kept making me look back at him.

This went on for a long time. I even got to see him up close, passing me once on his way in to an apartment. His chest was so damn smooth, you could eat off it. No smile, no hello, but I smiled, and our eyes met. He showed no reaction.

My air conditioner had gone out, and I called maintenance number to get it fixed, hoping that Bryan would have to come into my apartment. Sure enough, an hour later, a knock came at the door. It was him, and my eyes brightened.

"Your AC?" he muttered.

"Yeah, come on in..." I smelled his sweat as he passed me.

I offered him a drink, which he rejected as he went straight to the circuit breakers. The control for the AC was switched off. I watched his every move.

Without warning, his voice threatened, "You got a problem?"

I was shocked by his anger. "Um, no, man..." I stammered.

"You're always fuckin' lookin at me. What's the deal, man? You a fag or something?"

I looked to the ground, caught. "Well, yeah, I guess..." I mumbled.

He smiled and laughed. It became him. "I figured you for a queer, man. You were pretty fuckin' obvious." His mood returned to moderate anger. He grabbed his crotch. "Well, I ain't had fag hole for a while. Get over here, man. I'll give ya what you want."

I was stunned. He unbuttoned his 501's with one quick move, and his dick flopped out of the fly. Here's the kicker: his dick was a rubbery torpedo, covered in sweat and almost seven inches long. It wasn't even hard. I thought back to my ex, who was almost as short in height, but had a dick almost as big.

"Suck my dick," he commanded. I dropped to my knees and had to sit on my feet to reach his dick, and immediately sucked the sweat off his cockhead with a quick pass of my tongue. My jaw opened, and I engulfed the meat, working my tongue underneath to get all the sweat I could. Bryan let out a moan.

I began a deep slow blow job, as wet as I could, keeping in the 'men suck dick better' tradition. His dick grew longer, probably to about 9 inches. Here I was, a tall dude on his knees playing queer to this tiny guy.

Excellent.

I reached up for his nipple, and he smacked my hand away. "The dick man, do my fuckin' cock." I returned to my deep sucking, working up good slimy throat spit to cover his cock. He grabbed my head suddenly, and fucked my face for all I was worth. I had to do my best to keep from gagging on his prize prick.

Byran began to breath heavily.

He pulled out without warning, his dick dripping my spit. "Come on." He walked into my bedroom, kicked off his boots (they must have been a size 7), pulled off his jeans, and spit onto his cock, just letting it fall from his lips onto his cockhead. I knew what I had to do. I pulled off my shorts, leaving my high tops on, and fell back on the bed.

Before I knew what was happening, my legs were high in the air, his cockhead was at my ass, and he said "You want me to fuck you?"

"Yeah, Bryan, fuck that hole, man."

"Ok, I'll fuck your cunt, faggot."

With that he slammed in. Lucky I had lubed it up good or else I would really have been crying. As it was, it hurt so good. I moaned loudly. He started into a nice slow groove. "Yeah, take my cock, bitch. Fuck you, fuckin' bitch." He moaned phrases like that over and over, as his pace quicked, until he was fucking me like a rabbit. "Take that cock, you fuckin' cunt." He hel tightly onto my sneakers as handles for my body. He had to reach pretty high with his arms to get them though. I was totally into this scene. I'd be his pussy anytime. I reached back and felt the union of our bodies, his hard mantool slamming deep into my guts. His naked dick rubbed up against the walls of my asshole, generating those feelings that you only got from a naked butt ramming. His eyes were closed and he was obviously dreaming of being in a girl's hole. I felt great, letting this guy totally use me. It was what I wanted.

"Oh, take it bitch, fuckin' bitch, I'm gonna cum, take it you bitch!"

He slammed his cock into my stomach, and his hot cream seared my insides. I shot off without even touching my cock, covering my chest with my load. Bryan shook his head to straighten his hair, and to shake off some sweat, which fell onto me. He gave a few short deep strokes before pulling his cock out. It made a huge pop as he yanked it out of my stretched hole.

Quickly, as if embarrased, he wiped his dick off on my sheet, put his jeans on, and his boots, and said "Thanks." He walked out the door.

I lay there in my stupor. I had been totally used and loved it. I savored the memories before falling asleep. Bryan came over a few more times to get off. One time it was three in the morning when he knocked on the door to fuck. Another night he slept over, his cock snugly nestled up my ass all night. He knew I would keep my mouth shut, because I wanted that dick over and over again.

Last week, I noticed some old guy doing the gardening. Casually, as I paid my rent, I asked what happened to him. "Oh, he moved to Arizona."

"Oh," I replied

Become a Patreon to support Taletopia!

written by tbeck