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Old August 23rd, 2012, 10:34 PM
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Body Parts III

I heard the ruckus, and believe me, it was far too early in the morning for a racket. Not quite 7:00 and the neighborhood I lived in came alive. I'd moved to a walkup in a poorer part of town only to discover that the building next door was being renovated. And the work began at an unholy hour...and on a Saturday...

Day three in my new place. Day three of encounters with hyper-masculine body parts I had not yet ever really considered as part of my fetishes. I mean, who doesn't love big guns on a man? Who doesn't find pecs that threaten to invade your personal space overwhelming? Who doesn't like an ass you could chew on bouncing on the back of a piece of beef you're never likely to have? I watch all of those attention grabbers. However, the real, the BEST men, don't pause at any of those while developing their, they let their own body decide what will be their calling card. Well, I'd never been handed one like I received on Saturday.

Turned out the renovation noise next door seemed a bit sporadic, like there wasn't a lot of people working. I didn't hear shouting or obnoxious music, just a bit of 'heaving' noise and the crumble/crush of perhaps bricks or stones. Someone must be unloading a truck.

Once conscious, I rolled out of bed pretty quickly hoping to catch a glimpse of the aforementioned beefy arms, thick chest or meaty ass. I figured I could watch a couple of good-looking construction workers through morning coffee and the paper. (Yes, I still read the paper. Try it. It's very relaxing.)

What met my eyes was a pile of stones with dust still puffing away from what was obviously a recent addition to the pile. I thought I caught a glimpse of a big dude walking just beyond the alley between our buildings, but when the size registered, I figured I must need a couple more sips of brew. I manouvered a chair and my little table to my small kitchenette window and popped the paper open, raised the cup to my lips and never took a drink...the rest of the morning.

I'm not kidding. I saw a man who looked to be in his late forties crossing back up the alley with a stone under each arm. I don't want this to be some ridiculous tale of inhuman strength and size, because exaggeration doesn't become me and I actually saw all this happen. These weren't boulders or anything, just really big stones. Not dissimilar to the ones you see the tubby men carry on World's Strongest. The two differences were, this man was carrying two of these, not one, and he wasn't tubby.

He had a deep tan that only comes from outdoor work. He had a significantly receding hairline, (that just SCREAMS testosterone to me), and had shaved his head hair down to be about as long as his 2-3 day beard. His mustache was thicker. Not because he'd been growing it longer, but because the machismo had to find SOME way to escape his body or he'd explode; so some of it came out his upper lip. As I traveled down his frame, time stopped...

His neck was flexed. My God he had cords in his neck that looked like they were trying to hold the space shuttle down during launch. Not a lot of them, just four or five solid, thick, pillar-like cords. I thought he might be straining from the weight, but I quickly saw he was flexed just from glancing up at the roofline of the building he was working on. As his chin came back down, his chin took that enviable position that formed a jawline you could break a baseball bat on. You know those chins and necks that make you want to try and choke him...well, maybe I'm the only one willing to admit I'd love to dominate now and then, by just grabbing a guy by the throat and making him do me. I only think about that when I see a neck that could take it. And DA-UMN that neck was in my alley.

The prominent, but not off-putting Adam's apple told me he could speak words that would make me cream if he put his rough lips near my ear. I can hear him breathing and even lightly touching his tongue to rim my ear while he lowers his voice even more and says, "take me - make me yours." But then I saw something I've never seen before as I traveled down a little further...

His traps were working to help hold the stones under his arms. He stopped walking just then to, apparently, scratch something like a bug or sawdust off his cheek or ear. He just shrugged the God-damned STONE up and rubbed his cheek quickly on his shoulder. In that tensed, flexed pose and movement, I saw his shoulder blossom like a mushroom cloud, but with the substantialness of volcanic rock coming out of the ocean. Suddenly, the angle made his shoulder look as big as the stone. Or darn near. I wished it wasn't covered with that old sweatshirt.

He'd taken a red sweatshirt and removed the sleeves just beyond the shoulder, leaving a cap sleeve. He'd cut the entire hoodie part off, leaving a sizable scoop in the neck. That damn sweatshirt was deep red, like blood...and mixed/covered with a lot of sweaty dirt. Oh, God, I want to smell that...grab it in my teeth...just what he must LEAVE on a shirt like that after a day working like this made my monster thicken and my pelvis thrust involuntarily. I would have humped the sweatshirt.

But imagine if he was still in it! I've always wanted to be hefted up by a He-Man and held high on his chest and fuck his cleavage while he just stood and held me there - watching my orgasm - and KNOWING his years of labor made me insane...

I could see he had a good coat of dark hair, like any brick-shit-house worker should. What good is a smooth chest in manual labor? I could see the cleavage came all the way to the neck, even with his chest spread apart holding those massive rocks. Massive - that was the word. His neck, chest, should, trap area was massive...and accentuated by that scooped sweatshirt. Hell, the boy new how to work it. His manliness made me want to yell at him, tell him to obey...I only seem to want to try and bully those that would crush me with one swipe of the paw. I want his to pretend to let me be in charge.

Now, the piece de resistance...his traps reminded me immediately of one thing. Remember when you grew up, or visited a small town with streets lined with large, fifty year or older trees in the space between the road and the sidewalk? Remember as you road your bike or roller skates over the cement that every once in a while a root had exposed itself at the base of the tree...grown over to the sidewalk and simply pushed it up with its undeniable strength? This man's fucking traps were tree roots attached to his trunk of a neck and simply crossing the clavicle to push the entire UNIVERSE out of his way. The sloped line made from back of neck/ear to the lead balloon of his shoulders went on for yards. He could have held steel girders in place with that combo. I wanted to lick the enormous pit his traps made behind his clavicles. I wanted to reach out wide and barely grab the outside of his shoulders while I stood in front of him. I wanted that chin and that stubbly face to suck my tongue out of my head, and then, he'd lift me up to the sacred space where all these perfect body parts met and I'd shoot the load of a lifetime into it all.

I suddenly found myself panting, (hell, I'm panting now), and leaning against the window like I'd prefer to have pushed thru it. He had returned to duty and dumped his stones on the pile creating a fresh puff of dust that helped cover him and that sweatshirt I hope to find for sale on Ebay one day. He had turned and, I think, caught me gawking slash humping the window. He didn't really let me know if he did.

I sat down, a little spent and tried to come up with a legitimate way to go meet him. I'd only really seen the holy trinity in his traps, neck, upper pecs combo. What the fuck might be under the rest of that shirt?

I didn't drink my coffee and didn't read my paper. I spent HOURS watching him unload, dreaming of a better look under the shirt, but mostly being focused on my new fetish. I had run to the front window of the building over the stairs to see he had a two ton truck to unload. I watched him bring load after load while I brought load after load. I hope this brings you a load or two. Loads are good.
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