Scratching the Servicer Worker Itch

"Bummer," I exclaimed with a pout, as I threw the telephone book half way across the room and collapsed onto the sofa.

"What’s up?" Nick asked, looking up from his computer, where he was checking out the latest AGaySex stories.

"I’ve got the service worker itch, and they don’t list who the hunky, well-hung plumbers and electricians are in the phone book ads."

"Fancy that," Nick said as he turned back to his computer. But then he swiveled back around and gave me a level stare. "And what the fuck is the service worker itch?"

"I’ve got this itch deep inside me that can only be reached and satisfied by a hardworking muscled hunk with honest-work, callused hands, a big, thick dick, and rough technique."

"Well, between the two of us, I’ve got the biggest and thickest dick. Let’s go back to the bedroom and I’ll see what I can do for that itch," Nick said, with a smile.

"I said rough sex and burly handyman hunks, Nick. You don’t even come close."

"Thanks loads, Mr. White-Collar Picky," Nick retorted.

"You know what I mean, Nick. You’re too refined and sensitive to scratch this itch. Sometimes I need someone who will skip the preliminaries and just pork me hard, deep, and quick—wham, bang, thank you, ma’am. It’s a fantasy I have occasionally. Just go with me on this."

"Well, OK, if that’s what you want," Nick said with a sigh, as he logged off the computer and unfolded himself from his chair. "You’re in luck. I happen to have met a couple of construction workers last evening at Club 216 who were quite explicit about what they could do with me if I came over to their construction site. I think they were hunky enough for you. Let’s take a ride."

Three guys were standing around a pickup truck at the construction site and taking a smoke break when Nick and I drove up. I could tell at a glance that they’d fit my bill: all big, square-chinned sonovabitches, with big hands, muscles on their muscles, and big broad grins on their faces when they recognized Nick. Nick told them what I wanted, and their grins got even bigger as they circled around me, eyeing me lasciviously and whistling at and talking dirty to me. Just what I’d ordered. My cock began to throb; my ass began to twitch.

They led us into what would be the basement of a half-finished McMansion at the back corner of the construction area, and, at my request, two of them stripped down to just their hard hats, their tool belts, and their boots, as the third one slowly stripped me down, feeling me up as clothing items were shed, and sucking me off. When they’d stripped down, the other two construction workers and Nick watched me get a blow job. I was just standing there leaning against what was going to be a load-bearing pole. The one working on me was actually the youngest and best looking by far. He was stripped down to just cutoff jeans, and I didn’t at all mind him giving me a slow and easy blow job; I knew there was rough action coming later. The other two construction workers were licking their lips and fondling and pulling on their horse-hung meat as they watched the younger one going down on me.

I enjoyed watching them watching me. They looked real hot in just those construction belts, hard hats, and chunky boots.

When I had shot my load, one of the other construction workers came over and took me roughly by the hand and led me over to a makeshift apparatus that the other one was pulling together. He had taken two low sawhorses and slapped a pine board between them. The first construction worker pushed me over on my belly on top of the board, and the second construction worker spread my legs and lashed them at the ankles to the legs of the sawhorses with rope, while the other one was tying my wrists together in front of me with my own leather belt. Construction worker number one then got between my legs in back and started shoving his big, engorged dick at my asshole, finally managing to push in and, with loud grunts from him and groans from me, plowing me to his root. The tools on his belt made clanging noises and chaffed my inner thighs as they swung back in forth in rhythm to his stroking. I could feel him reach my itch, deep inside, and rub it real hard. He was rough with me, just like I wanted, slapping my butt cheeks, pinching my nipples, and thrusting me hard up the ass.

The other construction worker came around in front of me, grabbed my hair with his hand, shoved his dick in my mouth, and fucked my face. Meanwhile, the worker who had blown me came back under the sawhorse and began licking my balls and cock again. After a good twenty minutes of this, construction worker one unloaded inside me, and the two workers who were stuffing me changed positions. The second dick was even thicker and longer than the first, and it found whole new itches to scratch.

When the one behind me had shot his wad, he withdrew from me, released the ropes at my ankles, and pushed me over to a picnic table that was being used as a work bench. Reinvigorated construction worker number one now came at me from the front, pushing me down on the table on my back, wish-boned my legs, and fucked me hard and furiously from the front, while construction worker number two found a hook to hang my wrist bonds on over my head, which stretched my torso tight across the picnic table. My itches were being satisfied nicely. The worker who boned me in the number two spot got up on his knees on the bench seat at my head, held my shoulders down on the table, and took another turn face fucking me. Just before my mouth got turned and stuffed, I looked over and saw that Nick was allowing the younger, better-looking construction worker to plow his ass at the sawhorse position.

Lots of itches got scratched well that afternoon, and everyone left the McMansion basement happy. I never again had to explain to Nick what my periodic service worker itch was all about.