“Please you have to help me!” There was no other way to describe my voice but a desperate wail.
The owner of ‘Bubba -n-Sons Plumbing’ chuckled.
I wanted to jump through the phone and throttle him. “This isn’t funny! Water is shooting everywhere! It’s like frikkin’ Niagara Falls under my sink! I don’t have enough towels to absorb it all! It’s gonna destroy my flooring!”
“Sorry,” Bubba began again, his voice sober and soothing this time. “It’s not funny. Now did you turn off the waterline?”
“I’m an I.T. guy, not a plumber!” I growled.
He calmed me, then, proceeded to walk me through the rather simple steps of turning off the waterline. Much to my ire, I had to get under the spraying sink to do it. By the time I was done I was soaked from head to foot.
Drenched, I picked up the phone again and collapsed on the floor right in the deepest puddle. Water soaked through my jeans, but I was too upset to really care at this point. “Okay, I turned the water off, thanks. But I need this fixed. Like now. I’m having a dinner party tonight.”
“Well, its Saturday, that’s overtime, ya know,” Bubba informed me.
“I don’t care!” I wailed, flipping wet hair out of my eyes.
“I guess I can send over my son, Bubba Jr.”
“Thank-you.” I gave him directions, and hung up.
I took one look at my brand new kitchen and wanted to cry. Everything in the house had been perfect for the party. Like, Pottery Barn catalog perfect. People from work were coming. My neighbors, my sister and her fiancé, too. Every towel in my possession had been stuffed under the sink to absorb the water from the burst pipe, and now they were heaped on the floor in a soggy mess, just like me.
My pug, Skippy, came into the kitchen. He lapped at the puddle then looked up at me as if to say, “Is it all better, Daddy?”
“It’s a nightmare, Skip,” I told the dog as if he’d actually asked.
While I waited for the plumber, I quickly changed clothes. Then, I threw the first load of sopping towels in the dryer. The rest were still on the floor, more than likely too saturated to do more than prevent the water from spreading.
I was barefoot, wearing sweats and a T-shirt when the doorbell rang forty-five minutes later. Skippy started barking immediately.
“Quiet,” I ordered, rushing from the kitchen and stubbing my toe in the process. I cursed and opened the door, using my left foot to keep Skippy from escaping.
The words ‘It’s about damn time’ were on the tip of my tongue, but the moment my eyes alighted on the man in the doorway, I was stunned silent.
The plumber had to be the hottest man I had ever seen in all my life. Six feet of lean, sinewy muscle even a bulky, tan Carhartt and carpenter jeans couldn’t hide. A red baseball cap was pulled over cropped dark hair and he wore a lopsided grin on his gorgeous face. The green-eyed hunk looked like one of those plumbers in a beefcake calendar. A shudder went the length of my back. I could almost hear the cheesy porno music begin to play.
“You’re Bubba Jr.?” I blurted.
The man laughed, a deep throaty sound that went straight to my groin. “Actually, I prefer BJ.”
I almost said, ‘Yes, I’d prefer one of those too,’ but instead I just stood there, staring.
“Are you Sam Dreshler?”
I nodded, still staring.
“I’m here to check your plumbing,” he prompted, holding up a tool box.
“Um, yeah.” Feeling like an ass, I stepped aside to let him enter. Skippy saw an opening and darted forward.
“Whoa there, little guy!” Fast as lightning, BJ scooped up the escaping dog. “Looks like you got a runner,” he joked as Skippy licked his face wildly.
“Um, uh, thanks,” I stuttered, feeling inexplicably jealous of my dog just then. I’d never been jealous of Skippy before. Then again I really never wanted to lick the plumber before either.
BJ handed me the dog and stepped into the foyer. I felt a funny flutter in my gut and I wanted to kick myself for it. I was already stressed out about the party when the pipe burst, but now bumbling-nerd-me had to have a super hunk in the house.
Oh, why couldn’t Bubba Jr. be fat and ugly like his name suggested? Instead, he was gorgeous and tan, everywhere I was thin and pale. My last boyfriend called me a twink, but I don’t think he meant it as a compliment. I was five-six, blond and blue-eyed. I was decent looking, but next to this guy I felt lacking in every possible way.
“You wanna show me that leaking sink?”
“Um, yeah, right this way.” I gestured for him to follow, still holding the flailing, snorting Skippy.
BJ looked around with approval. “Nice place. You live here with your folks?”
I should’ve been insulted, and I kinda was. I knew I barely looked legal. When I went to buy the liquor for the party the attendant stared at my ID for a long time, convinced it was a fake.
“Um, no. It’s my house. I just moved in. I’m 27,” I added, though I don’t know why. Maybe just to justify myself to the hunk in my kitchen I was a man, too. Not some skinny kid. Why I cared was beyond me at this point.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“It’s okay. I know I look young.”
He gave me that lopsided grin and a wink. “Nothing wrong with that.”
As I led him into the chain-o-lakes in my kitchen, I was inundated with his masculine scent. Not cologne, just pure sweaty male.
“Whoa! Looks like you had a gusher!”
“Your dad told me how to turn off the water so I think I managed to save my flooring but…” I gestured helplessly to the bucket under the sink and the piles of soggy bath towels. My breath became shaky once again.
As if sensing my distress, BJ gave me a smile. It went a long way to soothing my nerves. “Don’t worry, Sam. Let’s take a look see at what’s going on.”
BJ set his toolbox down and took off his jacket. His dark blue T-shirt was skin-tight and showed off an unbelievably broad shoulders and a narrow waist. And abs so flat they looked hollowed out. His carpenter jeans were slung low on those lean hips. He turned his red ball cap backwards and crouched down low, his thighs stretching the fabric of his jeans.
When he popped his head under the sink, the hem of his shirt inched upwards. I sucked in my breath.
Everyone made jokes about “plumber’s crack” but never before had I seen a plumber’s crack this fine. My dick swelled instantly and heat washed over my flesh at the sudden peek-a-boo of round ass cheeks above his waistband.
Oh dear lord, I did not need this kinda distraction today!
Skippy flailed a bit, bringing me out of my lust filled trance. Hastily, I set the dog on the floor and he raced over to the plumber, sniffing and prancing around as if the man were a giant plaything brought into the house just for him.
BJ didn’t seem to mind my spastic dog. “You gonna help me fix the sink, little guy?”
I bit my lip to stifle a whimper. Was there anything sexier than a man baby-talking a dog?
After he ruffled Skippy’s fur, BJ turned his attention to the sink. I stood four feet behind him, leaning on the kitchen island. He was on his knees but if he turned around his face would be on level with my crotch. That realization forced into my mind the vision of this man giving me a taste of his namesake. I swallowed the sudden, painful lump in my throat.
“The gaskets are old on the main line, that’s why she blew. Looks like you need a new trap, too, Sam.” BJ’s head was under the sink and his voice sounded muffled.
“Um, okay,” I said, not having any idea what that meant.
“Don’t worry. I’ll have this fixed before your guests arrive,” he told me, opening the tool box.
“Guests?” I repeated dumbly.
He grinned, a shock of white on a tan face. “You’re having a party, aren’t you?”
I looked behind me at the carefully arranged platters and wine glasses on the island. I chuckled at myself. “Um, yeah. Just my luck this had to happen today, huh?”
“You get ready for your party and I’ll get this all taken care of. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”
Yeah, easier said than done with such a hot hunk of man-flesh in my kitchen.
With a sigh, I left to retrieve the towels from the dryer.
Skippy had disemboweled one of his toys and was happily squeaking and shredding to his heart’s content. But that wasn’t what made me freeze in my tracks when I returned to the kitchen.
Heat suffused my groin at the sight of the deliciously displayed backside in front of me. BJ was kneeling, his head and shoulders inside the sink cabinet. His knees were apart and his back arched down so I had a clear view between his legs. The denim was pulled tight and the seam separated his balls, one on either side. My throat went dry, and I stared, wishing more than anything I could touch him. Run my fingers down his spine to the crack of his ass. Though in my fantasy, he was naked and his balls were hanging down, ripe for my mouth.
Oblivious of my return, BJ sat back on his haunches, and reached into his toolbox.
I quickly looked away before he noticed me staring at his balls like some horny pervert. Then I swapped the wet towels for the dry ones in my arms.
Get a grip.
BJ grinned over at me. “This made quite a mess.”
“Oh, uh, yeah,” I stuttered, sounding like a complete and total dip-shit.
“Don’t worry I won’t be here for your party,” he assured me.
I couldn’t help feeling a pang of regret that it was true. Insanely, I thought about inviting him. Was that lame? You didn’t invite your plumber to your dinner party, did you? He probably had a date anyways. A man as good-looking as him always had plans on Saturday night. If I said anything about my party, BJ and whatever big-breasted bimbo he was going out with would have a good laugh about some gay dude hitting on him.
As I dried the floor, I suddenly felt like I was being watched. When I glanced at BJ he averted his eyes almost immediately. If I didn’t know any better I would have sworn he was checking out my ass. I sniffed a laugh at my own stupidity.
After I put the towels in the dryer, I began to prepare the appetizers. The party was still two hours away but I wanted an excuse to be in the same room with BJ. So as I cooked, he rummaged under the sink. Neither of us said anything. It was oddly domestic and comfortable. Though I wished I could come up with something clever to talk about. My mind was blank every time I noticed BJ, looking all sexy and manly with his wrench or whatever the hell tool it was.
I shook my head irritably at myself as I carried the food trays into the dining room. He was only here to fix my leaking pipes. And not the one starting in my tighty-whities.
“Jeesh, you’re such a moron,” I muttered under my breath. Bristling, I turned to head back into the kitchen and stopped dead.
BJ was reclining in my doorway, his shoulder against the door jam. His hip jutted out and to the side, displaying the rather sizable bump in the front of his jeans to my hungry gaze. Tan hairy arms were crossed over his chest. The red ball cap was still backwards and that sideways grin was back. I wondered how long he had been watching me. Had he heard me talking to myself?
Oh my god, I was such a dork!
“All done, Sam,” he said before slowly heading into the kitchen.
I allowed myself the pleasure of staring at his ass as I followed after him, feeling a bit like an eager puppy on his heels. His movements were like liquid sex and it made my dick grow a bit. I joined him by the sink, my pulse thumping, but I tried to act natural. “That was faster than I thought.”
BJ turned on the faucet, gesturing beneath the sink in a Vanna White move that had me chuckling. “Easy fix,” he said, turning off the water.
I sniffed a laugh. “For you maybe.”
BJ bent down to gather up his tools and his gaze flitted over the front of my sweats. I almost grinned until I realized my dick was poking out like a pop tent.
Shit! I had a boner and BJ noticed!
Cheeks on fire, I hastily moved to the other side of the kitchen island. Dammit, what the hell was wrong with me? I willed my erection away but it was impossible with BJ bending over like that. Showing off that succulent ass.
To mask my embarrassment, I picked up a washcloth and wiped down the spotless counter-top. But my eyes kept betraying me by darting back to BJ’s ass while he cleaned up. I had to swallow a few times so I didn’t drool watching him move.
BJ closed the sink doors then turned to face me. I looked away at once, cheeks burning.
Double shit! He’d caught me staring at his ass!
I scrubbed at the non-existent stain on the counter harder, my face in flames.
“You’re nervous, Sam.”
BJ was right beside me. So close I could feel the heat from his body. Smell the PVC glue he had used and the manly hint of his sweat. I stared up at him, powerless to look away. My throat was too tight to speak, not that I was brave enough to try.
“First party in the new house?”
I managed a breathless chuckle. “That obvious?”
BJ set his toolbox on the counter, the move bringing him just a tad closer. I sucked in a tiny breath.
“You seem really stressed out.”
“Maybe a little…”
“I know the perfect way to relax, Sam,” he told me conversationally, running his long index finger on the edge of the granite counter. The gesture seemed lewd and suggestive.
I swallowed hard and looked back up at him. “You do?”
He was smiling at me. “Mmm, hmm.”
I wasn’t so clueless that I couldn’t pick up on the change in his demeanor. The heavy look in his eyes and the sudden roughness of his breathing. My pulse skipped and the blood flooding my face decided to take the long trip south to alert another part of my anatomy that BJ might be interested in checking out more than just the plumbing under my sink.
“Like what?” My voice cracked like a pubescent boy.
I didn’t have a chance to be embarrassed or clear the frog from my throat because BJ kissed me then.
I moaned into the sinful delight of the man’s warm lips encircling mine. My mouth opened willingly, and his wet tongue slipped inside, flicking over mine and darting out. He pulled back and smiled down at me, his thumb stroking my jawline.
He didn’t ask permission to touch the rest of me. My kiss had already granted him unlimited access. He ran the flat of his hands down my chest, the palms scraping my nipples and sending jolts of need straight to my dick. I shuddered, relishing the way he watched his hands caress me. I was breathing heavily now, gripping the counter with one hand, the other opening and closing into a fist.
A finger hooked in the front of my sweats. There was no denying the hard cock pressing the soft fabric out. He stroked the drawstring, and though my erection seemed to be BJ’s destination, he went no further. He appeared transfixed and I held my breath. Those green eyes looked back up. Without taking his gaze from mine, BJ pulled the sweats down, his fingers brushing my abdomen.
I could hardly breathe, I was so hard by this point. There was a wet spot on the front of my underwear. When BJ brushed his thumb over it, a violent tremor went the length of my spine, then back to my cock. Reflexively, I reached out to steady myself on his broad shoulder. One hand on the cold granite, the other on his warm muscles. That solidness anchored me as he slowly peeled the sweats below my ass, kneeling as he did so. His fingers slid over the elastic of my underwear next, pulling them out further in front so as not to catch on my erection.
The air felt cool on my wet dick. Men my height and build usually weren’t well endowed. I was just regular sized, but BJ smiled at me like he’d just been given a winning lotto ticket.
“Oh, shit,” I gasped the second those work-worn, calloused hands gripped me.
I’d always had a thing for the blue-collar types. Maybe it was their manliness. The way they smelled of grease and sweat. But at that moment, I was pretty sure my attraction was to the way his rough hands felt on the soft, tender skin of my dick.
He held my base, and began to lick me like I was an ice cream cone, swirling his tongue to catch the pre-cum. I groaned as he slathered my head with saliva, my shaft, too. Soon I was wet enough that his calloused hand could stroke me in time with his licking. He moaned as he tasted me, folding his lips over his teeth and sucking hard.
I felt my body preparing to come, my balls tightening, wanting to release. I forced a deep breath to remain in control. I wanted to savor the sight of my dick going in and out of his sweet mouth, not shoot like a virgin. It was exquisite, the warm, wet feel of him sucking on me. Licking me. BJ’s tongue probed my slit and a flash of heat made a sweat break out on my face.
When I hissed, he pulled back to grin up at me. “You like that?”
I nodded frantically, my mouth hanging open. Wanting desperately to feel his dark hair between my fingers, I pulled his hat off and let it fall to the floor. I cupped the back of his head, encouraging him to take me into his mouth once more. He flicked his tongue over my crown in a circular pattern. Then, he ever so gently bore down with his teeth.
I threw back my head and screamed, bolts of pleasure shooting into my sac, and swirling in my belly. I would burst if he did that again. Part of me wanted to see gobs of white cum spurting all over his gorgeous face, but the other part of me didn’t want this to end.
When I opened my eyes again, I saw Skippy staring at us, his head tilted curiously to the side. Embarrassed a little, I focused back on the man servicing my dick. I caressed the back of his head, and rocked my hips slowly as he sucked me, allowing him to set our pace. I reveled in the feel of his rough hand pumping my shaft, the sight of my dick disappearing into the recesses of his mouth. He reached between my legs and pulled on my balls, first one, then the other. Breathless, I began to thrust a little bit harder.
I was leaking cum steadily now and BJ sucked the little droplets right from the slit. My entire body shook and I wanted to grab my shaft and pump it faster than BJ’s slow and steady movements. Suddenly, as if knowing I was on the brink and wanting to drag it out, he withdrew. He gently kissed my tip and squeezed the base to ease me back down. But he was by no means done torturing me. After he licked the pre-cum, he drug his teeth down the shaft and back up, to where he nipped at the bottom edge of my head.
An animalistic noise burst from my lips and I seized a handful of his hair. I almost came right there.
“That’s your spot isn’t it?” he said, sucking the area once more.
I buckled over this time, as pleasure raced through my groin. He took the head inside his mouth again, sucking and pumping his fist, focusing all of his attention in the sensitive spot he discovered.
It was too much, too intense. “I’m gonna come!”
BJ’s groan vibrated up my dick, and he gripped my ass in both his hands, his fingers dangerously close to my hole. He pulled me forward. I shuddered when my cock head hit the back of his throat. My hold on his hair and shoulder were the only thing that kept me from collapsing from sheer rapture and delight. I felt the roundness of his tonsils rolling over my head as he drew me all the way down his throat, his hands spreading my cheeks open.
Then, just as fast as he deep-throated me, he pulled back. There was a brush of hot air on my pubes as he stole a quick breath before he pushed my dick back down his throat. His lips made a tight seal and he used the hands on my ass to make me fuck his face. I clung to him, thrusting faster now. He didn’t fight me. Hell, the man didn’t even gag. He just opened his jaw and swallowed me down, keeping his lips tight as he let me search his throat for release. It didn’t take long to find it. With a stab of sheer ecstasy, I felt the cum firing up my shaft, the ache in my balls.
Those words set BJ into a frenzied sucking.
Wave after wave of cum exploded from my body, and my hips were snapping helplessly.
BJ let the cum fill his throat, and when it began to overflow from his lips he pulled back, slurping and sucking as it shot from my dick in a steady white stream.
“Oh, god,” he whimpered in pleasure as it sprayed his lips, and dripped down his chin. “There’s just so much!”
Dizzy and heart racing, I watched my cum make bubbles on his full lips as I emptied myself with a final tremble. The sight of him still fully dressed, and nursing on my dick like it was a bottle, and my cum the sweetest cream he’d ever tasted, was so damn hot ,I actually whimpered. It was the most erotic thing I’d ever seen in my life.
Or so I thought.
BJ reached for his jeans, still licking and cleaning my dick with his tongue. Light headed, I held on to him as he slid the zipper down. While I reveled in post-orgasmic bliss, he freed his engorged, darkened cock. Goddamn, it was so large and beautiful! The plump crown was shiny with pre-cum and his shaft was thick and veiny. He wiped his mouth, then spit cum into his palm. A shudder of desire shot through me as he used my cum to lubricate himself. He took his cock in both fists and began to pump it fast. The wet sounds of BJ masturbating and his eager grunts held me captive.
He looked up at me while he jerked off at my feet, his face contorted in that look of pleasure and agony a man wore when he was close to shooting his load. It only took a few seconds of frantic stroking and a volcanic eruption of white cum burst from his dick, landing on my bare feet.
While he came, BJ never broke eye contact. The first wave was followed by a few smaller spurts, falling onto my toes. It was so warm! He trembled and closed his eyes in bliss, pressing his thumb the length of his shaft to milk the rest of his orgasm loose.
After he caught his breath, BJ stood up and kissed me again. Clinging to my smaller body, as if he might collapse. I could taste the salty, thickness of cum in his mouth, and I lapped at it. I didn’t even spare it a thought that I was wearing the plumber’s cum on my sweats and my feet. All I cared about was the heat of his body, the semi-rigidness of his cock pressed to my abdomen, and the cum dampened fingers coiling through my hair as he kissed me.
“That was fucking awesome,” he breathed.
I chuckled and rocked my hips into him. “Do you offer that service to all your customers?”
BJ gave me that lopsided grin and kissed me once more. “Only the hot blonds who keep flaunting their cute asses at me while I’m trying to work.”
A shiver of delight washed through me at the compliment.
We kissed for a little while longer, me stroking his back and him running his hands through my hair. It was sheer bliss the way he held me. He was so much bigger than I was. I felt safe and sheltered.
“I should probably go so you can get ready for your party,” he whispered, his hot breath tickling the crook of my neck. I wriggled, but neither of us made a move to leave each other’s arms.
Unfortunately, BJ was right. I had a party to get ready for. The guests would be there in less than an hour, and I still had a lot to do. Not that I was regretting the afternoon’s distractions. I sighed with great reluctance and stepped back. BJ kissed my cheek then tucked that pretty cock of his back into his carpenter jeans.
“Um, how much do I owe you?” I asked awkwardly as he retrieved his ball cap from the floor.
BJ looked a bit taken aback. “You don’t have to pay me for that.”
I blushed again, and gestured to the sink. “No, I mean the sink.”
It was BJ’s turn to pinken and the sight of it made my dick stir. “Oh, yeah. Well, I guess I wouldn’t feel right taking your money…not after…” he nodded to my crotch.
I grinned. BJ was absolutely adorable when he was embarrassed. But my smile faded when I realized I hadn’t bothered to pull up my pants and my cock was still hanging out. Blushing, I turned slightly away from him, and righted my clothes. When I turned back around, he seemed amused by my display of modesty.
I was struck with inspiration. “Wanna stay for my party?”
He made a face. “I’m in dirty work clothes.”
“You could go home and change, then come back,” I suggested hopefully.
BJ cocked his head to the side, and for one terrified second I was afraid he would say no. Maybe he’d gotten what he wanted, and he never cared if he saw me again. Just the thought of never seeing this man again depressed me more than I expected.
Then he grinned, and it was like liquid sunshine filling me. “Sure, I’d like that.”
“Great. You don’t have to dress up,” I told him. “It’s casual, just so you know.”
I led him to the door then, and he kissed me long, and slow. I trembled into the kiss, my lips following his when he pulled back.
He smiled at my eagerness. “I’ll see ya in a little bit, Sam.”
“Thank you, BJ.”
He gave me that lopsided grin one more time and paused on the front porch steps. “Are you thanking me for fixing your sink or taking care of that leaking pipe?”
I grinned so wide I swore my face might crack. “Both.”
LEAKING PIPES is one of 25 erotic m/m short stories in a special GOODREADS Christmas anthology called:
This special anthology is available for FREE download in several formats at goodreads.com