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FRICTION FICTION: LINEMAN by Tom Bernstein (1980)

monshanjik

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( click image to enlarge )

LINEMAN

By Tom Bernstein

(Honcho.April.1980.)

The first thing Bill thought about when he answered his front door was
the long list of stories he had heard from his buddies about repairmen.
For years he had listened to tales about the men who come to your house
to work on televisions, telephones, power lines, you-name-it, all humpy,
hot and ready for action. He had regarded the vast majority of the
stories to be bullshit, especially considering the fact that every
repairman coming to service him was overweight, bald, and totally
unappealing.

Now he was re-thinking his conclusions.

"You Mr. Robertson?" the guy asked.

"Yes," Bill said.

"Phone company. We got a problem on the line of this whole street. I'm
gonna have to do some outside work before I can install your new phone."

"Okay."

"Just wanted to let you know I was here. I'll be on the line out there
for probably half an hour or so before I can get back to you."

"Thanks for telling me."

"Sure."

With that, the lineman turned and walked down Bill's driveway, his ass
swaggering with a cocksureness that immediately started to arouse Bill.

"Damn!" he muttered to himself. "That guy's something else!" What he was
looking at and drooling over was a dark-haired young man in his early
twenties with a nice face, nice body and more than a nice basket proudly
showing through his blue jeans. Bill licked his lips as the guy went to
his repair truck, extracted some equipment and climbed up the telephone
pole at the corner of Bill's front yard. The tools strapped to the man's
waist swayed with his every step, and at that minute Bill wanted nothing
more than to have his hands where those tools were, there and, of
course, further down.

Bill watched the guy for almost three quarters of an hour, his prick
staying rock hard the entire time. When the lineman finally descended
the pole and strode toward the house, Bill's eyes were glued to his
crotch. Maybe all his pals hadn't been lying, he thought. This stud was
definitely hot.

Bill opened the door almost at the same time as the lineman rapped on
it. "Get the wires fixed?" he asked, thinking as the words came out that
it was a stupid question.

"Think so," the man replied. "I'll find out when I put your phone in.
Where do you want it?"

Bill felt his face redden when he said, "The bedroom."

"Where's that?"

"Through that doorway there," Bill answered, raising a hand to point.
Again his eyes were riveted to that fantastic ass as the guy walked past
him and into the bedroom. Bill realized his hard on must have been more
than obvious because he was wearing a pair of gym shorts with nothing
underneath. If the guy noticed, Bill thought, he sure didn't let on.

Trying to forget about the whole thing, being worried that he could get
a fist in the face, Bill went into the kitchen for a beer, hoping it
would calm him down. He drained half the can before going into the
living room and turning on the television. He had finished the beer and
was just about to go for a second one when the lineman came out of the
bedroom.

"Gotta get something out of my truck."

"Oh." This time Bill thought he saw the guy's eyes flicker lightly over
his crotch. When the man left, Bill looked down at his groin and
realized the way his legs were spread, the man had to have seen his
cock. The prick head was hanging slightly below his shorts and Bill
laughed at his unintentional cruise technique. He was still laughing
when the man returned.

"Must be a funny show," the lineman said, puzzled because what was on
television was a horror movie.

"No," Bill said. "It was something else."

"Mind if I have a beer?"

"No, not at all. I'll get it for you. I was about to get another one
myself."

"Thanks, Mr. Robertson."

"Hell, man. Call me Bill." He stood and extended his hand.

"Name's Pete."

"Nice to meet you, Pete. I'll get us that beer now."

"Thanks again."

Bill went into the kitchen and took out two beers from the refrigerator.
He was still perplexed by the situation. Was the guy being more than
just friendly? Had he detected a slightly larger bulge in Pete's jeans?
Was he simply fantasizing about the whole thing? "Shit, I'd better be
careful," he said to himself as he walked toward the bedroom. Pete was
sitting on the edge of the bed, legs spread, the telephone on one thigh.
Bill saw that there was very definitely something going on under those
well-worn jeans.

"Here's your beer."

"Thanks." Pete took the can and drank hungrily before setting it on the
floor. "This shouldn't take much longer. I think I've got the thing
fixed okay."

"Good."

Not knowing why, because he wanted to stand there and watch Pete work,
Bill turned and walked back into the living room. He stared zombie-like
at the television set, totally unaware of what he was watching. His mind
was only on what was in the next room.

"Hey, Bill!"

Bill started at the sound and almost dropped his beer. He was so enrapt
in his thoughts that Pete's voice made him jump. "Yeah?"

"Can you come in here for a minute?"

"Sure."

When Bill walked into the bedroom, he almost dropped his beer for a
second time. Pete had stripped off his tee-shirt and opened his
trousers. The lineman was standing next to Bill's bed, equipment still
strapped to his waist, repair phone in one hand, his cock swinging free
as though nothing was unusual about his stance.

"I think I've got the problem licked," Pete said.

" I . . .uh . . ." Bill stammered.

Pete grinned. "I been looking at that fat cock of yours in those gym
shorts every chance I could get, man. Why don't you strip 'em off and
we'll stop wasting time? After all, I got a schedule to keep."

"I'll be damned!" Bill said. He put his beer can on the bureau and
shucked down his shorts. It was his turn to smile when Pete looked at
his crotch and whistled.

"Man! That's some piece of meat you got, Bill."

"Why don't you get naked and swing on it, stud?"

"You got it."

In no time, Pete was bareassed, kneeling in front of Bill and sucking
cock like a crazy man. Bill stood with his legs spread wide, eyes
closed, his hands resting lightly atop the lineman's head as it bobbed
up and down.

"Man, you're some cocksucker," he said. Bill sighed as Pete's hands came
up his backside, fingers probing in the cleft of his ass for that juicy
hole. "Yeah," Bill moaned. Pete's deft fingers found the chute and
darted in. Bill involuntarily spread his legs wider to afford the man
greater access to his asshole. As one finger plunged in and out, Pete
kept up his rhythmic cocksucking, his saliva coating Bill's cock and
making it more and more slippery. Bill opened his eyes and looked down.
Pete's thick prick was rock hard and arching up to his navel. At the
cockslit, a pearly drop of pre-cum juice was oozing out, and Bill
suddenly wanted that in his mouth.

"Hey, Peter. C'mere," he said. He pulled the lineman to his feet and led
him to the bed. As the two stretched out, Bill reached down and grasped
the man's stiff root. "I'd like some of that myself." He thrust his head
between the man's hairy thighs and drew Pete's prick down his throat in
one swallow. The lineman moaned loudly and shifted his position so that
he could take Bill's meat in his mouth again. The two sucked noisily and
greedily. It was as if they could not get enough of the other's cock.
Pete swirled his tongue around Bill's cock-head, thrusting his hips
forward faster and faster as he fucked the man's mouth. Bill flicked his
tongue into Pete's large cockslit and tasted the saltiness there.

"Damn," Bill said finally, reluctant to take his lips from the guy's
rod. "I haven't enjoyed sucking cock like this in a long time." He
returned immediately to his task and tasted more of the juices seeping
from Pete's dick. He felt his own prick start to drain fluids and
realized he was close to cumming.

"Put your finger up my ass, Pete!" he cried. "I wanna shoot, fella!"

"No, man," Pete said, pulling away from Bill and rolling over on his
belly. "I want your cock up my ass. Don't lose that load in my mouth,
Bill. I want to feel it in my guts. And your prick too."

Bill's cock was already slippery from Pete's spit and he had no trouble
sliding it between the guy's buttocks, plunging into the ass he had been
cruising all afternoon.

"Damn!" he groaned as Pete squeezed on the prick up his ass and began
milking it, slowly at first then faster as he realized Bill was near to
shooting.

"Go man, Bill! Give it to me! Shove that thing all the way in. C'mon,
man! C'mon!"

"It's coming, Pete. Just . . . a . . . few . . . more . . . strokes . .
. and . . . I'll . . . oh, shit, man! Get it! Get it! Now!!!"

Pete felt his ass filling up with gism as Bill pumped wildly into him,
moving his ass in a circular motion that left no area of Pete's guts
untouched. It was an incredible sensation and the lineman moaned in
ecstasy.

"Oh, all of it, baby. Get all of it!" Bill cried.

"Let it fly, man. Fill my guts up!"

"Aw, shit!" Bill yelled over and over as his gism slowed its spurting
and his prick softened and slid out of Pete's ass. Pete let out a little
cry when his ass emptied of dick and he cried louder when he soaked the
sheets with his cum.

"That was some session, fella," Bill said a bit later when the two of
them had caught their breath.

"I'll say." Pete rolled over on his back and Bill saw the pool of gism
on his belly and on the sheets. "I'm afraid I messed things up a
little."

"I don't give a damn," Bill said. He leaned over and licked the man's
belly, sticking his tongue into the hair and cum-covered navel.

Pete laughed and patted Bill affectionately on the shoulder. "You don't
want to miss a thing, do you?"

"Not a drop, stud. Not a drop."

Pete sat up and stretched and waited for Bill to finished cleaning him
off. "I hate to break this thing up but I got to put in four other
phones this afternoon."

"Mine works okay?" Bill asked.

Pete grinned and said, "Everything you got works, man." He groped the
guy's limp prick. "Especially this thing."

Bill lay back on the bed and watched as Pete put his clothes and
equipment back on. "Thanks for the good service, fella. I ought to write
the phone company a complimentary letter. But first I got to make a
couple of phone calls to some pals of mine I thought were lying about
something."

Intrigued by the curious statement, Pete asked, "Lying about what?"

"You."

-------------------------

Thanks to original poster in Yahoo! gaymagazinefiction group!

Enjoy!
 
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