I read Popular Mechanics
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It couldn't have been more than thirty-seconds after I got home when the knocking began on the sliding glass door leading to the balcony. It startled me. I looked out to see my next door neighbor Sam, with whom I share the balcony, motioning for me to come outside. I waved at him to come inside but he vigorously shook his head back and forth and pointed for me to join him outside.
I hurried over to the door, slid it open, stepped outside and closed the heavy glass door behind me.
"What the hell John, it's past five o'clock, where have you been?" he asked tersely.
"I had to work overtime," I replied.
"Well dammit John, you know I look forward to this all afternoon - Christ, look at the wood I've been sporting ever since I parked in the garage!" he barked at me pointing to his slacks.
Sure enough, there was an impressive bulge in the crotch of his black work slacks.
He moved to the metal railing and impatiently said, "C'mon, what are you waiting for? Let's get this over, I have to shower and meet some friends at the bar at six!"
I calmly nodded and went to him. I placed my hand on his bulge and squeezed.
"I don't have time for foreplay - open my pants and take out my cock!" he brusquely ordered.
"Okay, okay," I said as I opened the belt and unfastened his slacks.
His slacks fell to his ankles and I pushed his boxers down to his knees and watched his seven-inch beauty spring into view. He turned his back to me and held onto the railing.
I stood slightly behind him to his left. My right hand snaked down between his buttocks until I found his scrotum and cupped it in my hand. My left hand reached around him and firmly grasped his hard cock. I applied the pressure I knew he liked and began stroking away.
I understood why he'd been so rude and was in such a hurry: his balls were swollen and very heavy.
I smiled with amazement - it had only been nine-hours since I had given him his morning handjob and already his balls were overflowing with cum.
He shifted closer to the iron railing until his erection was poking out between two rungs. Luckily, my hand is small enough to fit between the rungs and still hold his cock.
I looked down the five-stories to the ground and hoped the gardener was done for the day but the lawn and bushes were too close to the building to see. I wondered if he'd ever gotten a good spritzing of sperm and semen while working below my balcony.
When I heard Sam begin to moan I gripped his cock harder and moved my hand faster.
I lightly massaged his swollen balls and thought, don't worry boys - relief is cumming! Hahaha...
I gaze out over the neighborhood below us. There are houses facing our direction but we are too high-up for them to see me giving a guy a handjob - or a blowjob - or whatever job I happen to be giving him.
It's surprising the number of guys who love to climax outside. Living in a warm weather city means outdoor sex twelve months a year so my balcony sees plenty of action.
Sam's grunts and groans tell me he's close so my hand becomes a blur on his cock. I release his balls and my finger begins lightly moving back and forth over his perineum. It had only been recently when I discovered Sam likes a little ass-play while he's close to climax.
Suddenly, Sam bolts upright and bellows "OH-GOD" and my finger finds his anus and I bury it inside him to the first knuckle and he begins spurting.
All the while Sam's cock is exploding, I hope poor old Mister Donnelly isn't leaning over the railing on the balcony one floor below us.
When I feel Sam's cock go limp in my hand I release it, bring the hand to my face and lick it clean. I enjoy the taste of his cum.
He hurriedly pulls up his boxers and slacks and fixes them in place.
His attitude is now warm and friendly and he says, "That was terrific, John...I'll meet you out here sometime around 11, okay?"
I bat my eyes at him and smile, "Sure thing, handsome!"
Inside, I look at the time and see it is almost 5:30. Dinner at Norman's place is at six. Well, we won't actually eat until closer to 6:30, if you know what I mean. I'll only have time for a quick shower though.
I strip naked, go into the bathroom, step into the tub, and turn on the water. While I wait for the proper temperature I run my hands up and down my legs then lift my hands high to check out my armpits.
"Good," I say out loud. Still smooth as silk. I won't have to shave until tomorrow.
I wash my pits and crotch. My dick always leaks a copious amount of precum when I have a hard cock in my hands or mouth so I make sure it is clean and smells just fine before my next job.
I am the unofficial handyboy for the building and sometimes I am running around 10-12 hours a day doing peoples laundry and cleaning their apartments. It doesn't pay much - that's why I need as many customers as I can find, but it's a heckuva lot better than working in the real world.
I dry myself and walk naked back into the bedroom. The crisp, white jockstrap I'll be wearing is on the bed. I pull it up in place then go to a drawer and rummage thru my multi-colored nylon gym shorts.
I have trouble deciding what color to wear then finally scold myself.
What difference does it make, John? Norman will strip off my shorts and tee shirt the moment I enter his apartment. He loves for me to walk around his place in simply a tiny jockstrap.
I grab lime green shorts and a white tee shirt. I don't bother with socks. I work my feet into flip-flops, check myself in the mirror, exit the apartment, and walk to the elevator.
The door opens the second I get there and out steps the Hendersons.
Bernice smiles when she sees me and says, "Ohhh, don't you look adorable in that outfit!"
She's about the only one in the building who can make me blush.
Her husband, Gerald, walks silently by me but I can feel his hungry eyes devouring me.
"Sweetie," adds Bernice, "we're still on for tomorrow night, correct?"
"Yes, Mistress," I reply. "I'm looking forward to it, Mistress."
"Ohhh, so am I sweetie...and so is Gerald," she says.
They don't see me look but I always do - Gerald's six-incher is tenting out the crotch of his expensive slacks. My own prick jumps to attention. I sigh and quickly avert my eyes.
I don't like sex with Bernice, or any woman for that matter, but a boy's gotta do what a boy's gotta do if he wants to make love to the perfect penis Gerald has dangling between his legs!
I am somewhat taken aback (but don't show it) when Norman opens the door and I see him wearing only his favorite diaphanous, pink panties. He usually waits until after dinner to slip into panties.
True to form, he closes the door, takes me into his arms and gives me a long and passionate kiss on the mouth before he pulls off my tee shirt and shoves my gym shorts to the floor. His kiss caused my prick to become semi-erect inside the jock.
I have to carefully plan and ration my orgasms every day. While most of my customers do not give a flying whit whether I cum or not, I know Norman loves to watch me shiver and shake while he makes my prick explode.
He kisses me again and pushes my jock to the floor. My prick is now rock hard. He quickly removes his panties and drapes them over my erection and masturbates me.
Ohhhhhhh, I LOVE the exquisite sensations he gives me running the nylon material rapidly back and forth over my pulsating erection. In less than three minutes he has me spurting into the panties over and over and over...
I am out of breath but he gives me no time to recover. He presents the panties to my face and I dutifully open my lips and he shoves the cum-soaked material into my mouth for cleaning.
I guess it's a little abnormal to taste ones own sperm and semen but I have grown accustomed to my flavor after living in this building over a year.
Once he is satisfied I have properly cleaned them he gives them to me and I wrap the dry portion of the nylon panties around his throbbing hard-on and masturbate him until he shoots his load into them.
I then repeat the process of putting the soaked panties into my mouth to clean up his jizz from the sheer material.
I pull up my jock and watch as he slips into red, lace panties. He says lace panties do not get him as excited as the nylon ones do so he can wear them for longer periods of time.
"I'll throw the steaks on the grill - you know where those belong," he says of the cum-drenched panties.
I take them to the sink in the vanity area outside the bathroom. There are 10-12 pairs of assorted colors and styles of nylon and lace panties already soaking in the sudsy water.
Twice-a-week it is my job to hand wash his semen-crusted panties. I don't mind. It's a job and he is a generous tipper. Besides, he lets me cum in them too!
My legs are still wobbly when I open my apartment door and go inside at 9:00. The afterglow of orgasm is beginning to fade.
I check my cell phone for messages. There is a text from one of my three sponsors, Mister Alderson: "Be here by 9:30 at the latest!" I strip and hurry to take another shower.
While the water is cascading down on me my mind wanders to the post-dinner ass-fucking I received from Norman and the proposition he gave me for the hundredth time.
He had me wearing special panties he buys just for me. The only difference is a slit is cut in the fabric to ensure easy entry to my boypussy.
As usual, he had me on the balcony bending over as he fucked me.
OH MY GOD - the pure pleasure he gives me sliding his long and skinny dick in-and-out of me while my own hard, throbbing prick rubs against the panties is indescribable.
My best orgasms happen when he slams his cockhead against my prostate. I cum-and-cum-and-cum-and-cum inside the panties without my dick even being touched.
"Johnny, you work too hard - quit your job and come live here with me...I will be the only one you'll need to obey and keep happy...live with me and I'll take care of you and have you in panties all-day everyday!" he'd said.
He knows me too well - that is the problem! I love panties more than he does and it would take him only 2-3 days to turn me into a total panty-wearing, sissyboy-fairy.
I like my freedom and independence too much to be tied down to one man.
At least with Mister Alderson I can wear my regular undies: cotton, string bikini briefs. I choose yellow ones and slide them up in place.
They are a very snug fit. I like to wear them because my boyish package pushing out the crotch looks almost manly. I pose before the mirror admiring my bulge.
I have a standard uniform I wear when I do a job for my sponsors. A pink pullover tee shirt that exposes my navel and flat belly, pink gym shorts, and pink flip-flops. Yes, the pink makes me feel rather girly, but on the plus side the uniform comes off as soon as I enter their apartments.
When I am moving throughout the building wearing my pink uniform, all my neighbors know I am about to do a job for one of my sponsors and do not make any requests of me.
Mister Alderson lives one floor above me, the top floor on the other side of the building. He has a spectacular view of the harbor so I often perform my work on his balcony. But since he has summoned me at night, I know the job will be inside. I decide to take the stairwell instead of the elevator.
I have three sponsors in the building: Mister Alderson, Mister Bennett and Mister Mason.
At the time I met them I was working as a towel boy in the buildings gym but wasn't living here. They became so impressed with my work ethic, they offered me other jobs if I would move into the building.
The three of them pay my rent every month. They also introduced me to many of their neighbors who also hired me to perform odd jobs.
The hours are long and the take home pay isn't anything to brag about, but I don't have to leave the building and cope with the city traffic and the impatient, rushing hoards of frustrated people.
When I am face to face with apartment 601, I take a deep breath then rap hard on the door three times. I turn the door knob and let myself in. Once inside, I strip to my string bikini briefs and place my uniform on the chair beside the door.
I don't see Mister Alderson anywhere so I begin stroking my inner thighs and squeezing my rising dick. He really likes it when I have an erection poking out the front of my briefs. Lucky for me I recovered from the orgasms Norman gave me, and it wasn't long before I achieved a firm hard-on.
I heard the toilet flush down the hallway and the running of water. When the water stopped I waited a few seconds then struck a pose. Standing straight, hands clasped together behind my neck, legs slightly spread. I thrust out my pelvis so my hard-on is even more noticeable.
When he emerges from the bathroom I flash him a big smile and enjoy the smile he gives me back. He wore only boxers and my eyes drink in his tan, sculpted chest. My prick twitches.
My goodness, how can a man his age be in such great shape?
"I see the exercise regimen I have you on is working," he says looking me up and down. "You were a scrawny kid when I took you in - look at you now!"
"Thank you, sir," I sheepishly reply.
"First things first..." he said, "...be at number 640 tomorrow night at seven...like always, you will obey Charles as you do me!"
"Yes, sir," I say.
This was both good and bad news. The good news is I have an excuse now and won't have to go down on Bernice tomorrow night. I hate eating cunt. The bad news is two-fold: I won't get to pleasure Gerald's beautiful cock but I will have to obey that insufferable little twat Timmy, Mister Hanson's live-in bitch boy.
Oh well, life can't always perfect.
"You know the routine," he continued, "...give yourself a thorough enema and make sure you shave...I believe you already know the punishment if they find a single hair on your body."
"Yes, sir," I say dejectedly.
It won't matter if they find a hair or not, asshole Timmy always finds an excuse to take me over his knees and spank me until I cry like a little girl. I don't know why it is, but Timmy takes great pride and pleasure in totally humiliating me.
Mister Alderson stands in front of me and runs his hands over my hairless chest and armpits. I have sensitive underarms and it tickles. I giggle and that makes him smile.
He then massages my breasts and rolls my nipples until they become hard. He murmurs his approval when my nipples stand out a full inch in length. He took great pains in elongating my nipples, or should I say, I took great pain while he was doing it.
His hands find the side strings of my bikini brief and pushes them down to just above my knees. His hand lightly rubs my balls while the thumb and forefinger of his other hand grips my hard prick.
"You are such a little cutie," he says. He openly stares at my genitals and adds, "Everything about you is small and cute!"
He takes hold of my prick and pulls me in front of the big mirror. He places a finger on my lips and lightly rubs them. That is my cue to drop to my knees and take down his boxers. His cock is semi-erect and I immediately go about the business of making him fully hard.
I swoon and become dizzy when I inhale the manly aroma from his crotch. Kissing and licking a real man's cock and balls while breathing in his aroma through my nose is my favorite part of the job.
A close second though is when the man rewards my hard work by filling my mouth with his precious fluids over-and-over. He is validating my worth as a boy by emptying his swollen balls into my belly.
Mister Alderson suddenly cries out and I plant my tongue firmly on his cockslit. I lap-up his hot sperm and semen with broad strokes and swallow every spurt and dribble.
I also love to hear a man's shouts of pleasure and the feel of his body shaking and bucking as he shoots his loads into my greedily sucking mouth.
This is the moment a boy has all the power over his man. Real men are most vulnerable and helpless when they are in the throes of a mind-numbing orgasm.
His cock goes limp in my mouth but my lips refuse to relinquish their hold on it. Mister Alderson has to push my head from his crotch to break free from me. I always smile when men do this - I have given them so much pleasure they simply cannot take anymore.
"Pour a glass of wine and bring it to me on the balcony," he says when he catches his breath.
"Yes, sir," I reply.
Since he did not tell me I could raise my briefs into place, it is slightly problematic to walk with them above my knees while my throbbing boner stands straight out and bobs in front of me.
I am not optimistic about my chances of him relieving my bloated balls. I do, however, hold on to the hope he will want to watch me masturbate.
I was so weak in the knees from my orgasm I decided to take the elevator down one floor. This time of night I probably would not run into anyone.
The moment I exited the elevator a female voice called out, "Hold the doors for me, cutie!"
Oh my God! The hair on the back of my neck stood straight. As she drew near I stared down at the floor.
She saw my uniform and asked, "Which of your Masters did you service tonight?"
She always uses the term 'Master' to describe my sponsors and I resent it. I am NOT a slave to anyone!
"Uh, Mister Alderson," I mumbled.
I held the doors open until she was inside. She suddenly held the doors herself and said, "Look at me, boy!"
I blushed a furious red as I obeyed her command. The sperm and semen smeared on my face was still glistening wet.
She laughed and said, "That's a good look for you, boy. Tomorrow night I'm going to have you wear Gerald's cum on your face!"
I blurted out, "I'm afraid I won't be able to see you tomorrow night."
A flash of anger contorted her face and she lashed out, "And why not, boy? Are you refusing a job?"
"No-no-no, Mistress, " I frantically blurted out. "Mister Alderson has a job for me at seven o'clock tomorrow night."
Her face softened and the smirk on her face returned.
"Okay," she said, "but the following night you will spend an extra hour or so at my place. Make sure that tight little pussy of yours is well lubricated, understand me boy?"
"Y-Yes, Mistress," I stammered and turned to leave.
"Wait a minute, boy - is that your Master's cum on your face or your own?" she asked.
I had to answer her. "My own," I said with downcast eyes.
"Did he tell you to wear it the rest of the night?" she asked.
"Yes, Mistress," I replied.
She laughed and said, "Good boy!" then the elevator doors mercifully closed.
It was 10:45 when I walked into my apartment. I glanced at the glass balcony door. No sign of my neighbor Sam. He had either come and gone, or he would be here soon.
It was too late to change clothes so I simply stripped to my yellow, string bikini briefs. Sam likes seeing me in them anyway.
The cum was drying on my face and becoming slightly crusty. I had no choice but to wear it the rest of the night. It was dark outside, Sam probably wouldn't notice it anyway.
I sat back in the recliner and reflected on the days jobs. They all went fairly well. I then mentally reviewed the list of jobs lined up for tomorrow. It will be almost as busy as it was today.
That's a good thing, I told myself. A boys gotta do what a boys gotta do to get by in this life.
I was on the verge of sleep when three sharp raps on the glass door jolted me out of my reverie. I bounced out of the chair and slid the door open. I was greeted by a strong odor of alcohol.
"Hey there, cute thing, c'mon out here and keep me company, okay?" said a visibly swaying Sam.
He didn't appear to be any more intoxicated than normal.
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