Sean and Luther Pt. 01: Plumber

"Let's just see if this --" he said, reaching into the shower and giving the handle a curious turn. There was a loud CLANK and before we knew what was happening, water was shooting everywhere, surprising us both. By the time Luther got it turned off, he was soaked clean through. His shirt, already skin-tight, was now completely transparent. His grey sweatpants had adhered to the front of his legs, revealing the definition of his powerful thighs, and a very clear outline of the slumbering python between them.

It was all I could do to not throw myself at him. He would split me in half, but I would die happy.

He stood dripping for a moment before asking for a towel.

"Right. Fuck. I'm sorry. I don't know where my head is at today."

"Maybe go easy on the pot, kid," Luther offered, smirking.

Busted.

"What? No. I'm not. I mean I don't -- I tried it once and --"

Luther held up his hands. Two callused, dinner plate-sized mitts.

"I ain't sayin' nothin. It's just pretty obvious you're stoned off your butt, kid. It's okay. You're a light weight. Bit off more than you could chew. When I was your age I had a couple rough trips before I realized my limits. It's all good."

I blushed. Nodded. Went to retrieve a towel from the linen closet and tossed it at him. He caught it against his chest, and began drying himself, the muscles of his arms and torso bunching and flexing as he did so.

"Thanks, kid. Don't suppose you have any dry clothes I can change into?"

I laughed. "I don't think I have anything that you'd fit into, Luther."

He arched an eyebrow and smirked again. My hole twinged.

"Joking, kid. 'Sides I'm used to getting wet. Hazard of the job." He wrung the towel out in the shower and tossed it back to me. "Now as much as I'd love to keep chatting, I've really gotta get some work done. Your ma ain't paying me to flirt."

He winked, and turned his back to me, and began fixing the shower.

The high of Sara's brownie was eclipsed in that moment by the high of learning that this giant, sexy, dream of a man was, miracle of miracles, into me. With that wink he flipped my entire world upside down. I practically skipped down the stairs to the kitchen to find something to eat.

I could hear him whistling while he worked upstairs which made me think of his lips. I closed my eyes and imagined how they would feel against my mouth, my chest, my stomach ...

My phone buzzed. Text from Sara.

Sara: Hey bish

Sean: Was was in that brownie??

Sara: U Like? Special blend. Top secret.

Sean: I'm so horny I'm hitting on the plumber. Not even my usual type. But I am so into him I can barely think.

Sara: U mean he isn't your clone? Isn't that your usual fuck buddy of choice?

Sean: Ha no he's my exact opposite and HUGE *Three eggplant emojis*

Sara: go on

Sean: I kind of think I must be hallucinating because he's so big. Like SO BIG.

Sara: pics or it didn't happen bish *kiss face emoji*

Sean: He's working in my mom's bathroom. I will get one if I can.

I was in the middle of typing another message to Sara when a message from my mom came through.

Mom: Need to stay later than I thought. We're so overwhelmed by the size of this case. Leftovers in fridge. Please clean up the kitchen when you're done. Luv u

Sean: Sure thing mom Luv u

I switched off my phone and set it on the counter, then went about fixing myself a sandwich. I might have gone a little overboard. The magic brownie had really done a number on my appetite, and I ended up fixing a Luther-sized sandwich: Tomato, cheese, lettuce, turkey, ham, bacon, mayo and mustard, pickles, stacked so high it threatened to topple over if left unsupported. I nevertheless I devoured it eagerly. I was half way through the sandwich, cleaning mayo off the side of my mouth when Luther entered the kitchen. How he had descended the stairs so silently was beyond me. I guess I had just been so into my meal I hadn't heard him.

"Ain't no way you're gonna finish that," he whistled appreciatively. "That thing's as big as your head."

"That a dare?" I grinned.

He stepped across the kitchen, slowly, deliberately, the late afternoon sun through the large kitchen windows exaggerating the strong features of his face. He stood across the island from me, staring down.

"Dare," he said. It was a command, more than a statement.

So I did. I ate my sandwich while Luther watched, arms folded across his barrel chest, thick forearms resting on top of his impossibly huge gut. I wasn't going to pussy out in front of this dude, not in my own house, but a few bites left and my stomach started to hurt.

I stared down at my unfinished sandwich, feeling defeated, and full.

Luther reached across the island and lifted my chin with two fingers, stared down into my eyes.

"Good effort, kid," he consoled. What he did next took me aback. He gently gripped my chin, and turned my head to either side, examining me. I couldn't breathe. His grip was strong, firm, but gentle, as he examined me like a piece of fruit in a produce section, inspecting me for imperfections.

"You got a little something right here," he said, reaching over with his other hand and swiping some mayonnaise I'd missed on the corner of my mouth. I felt time stop. All I could see was his eyes. The rest of the world disappeared. Dare, they were saying. Dare.

As he went to pull his finger away, I grabbed his wrist with both hands and brought his finger to my lips, lapping at it hungrily. Mayo. Salt. Heat. Suddenly I was hungry again, only instead of a sandwich I wanted to devour this giant of a man, inch by inch, take him into me until I was completely full and satisfied.

Punch me or fuck me but just get it over with, I thought. What's it gonna be, big guy?

"I was wondering if you were gonna make a move," Luther laughed. "Shit that tickles. Slow down, kid."

Emboldened by his words I worked my way down his thick index finger, licking and kissing and suckling. I took him into my mouth until he hit the back of my throat.

I gagged. He grunted in approval.

"Perfect."

He still held my jaw in right hand, and used his bulbous thumb to hold my mouth open while working his left index finger in and out of mouth. Soon his middle finger joined the fun, and my mouth was so full I felt like I was sucking the biggest dick I'd ever sucked. His fingers piston-fucked my throat, finger banging my mouth the way I had myself a couple hours earlier, only his fingers were much larger, much more brutal than my own slim digits. I gasped, catching my breath between thrusts as best I could, but I was soon delirious and drooling and dizzy with pleasure. No one had ever used my mouth in this way, other than myself. I could feel my face growing red, feel my jaw ache, the erection in my board shorts pulsing. Drool was pouring out the sides of my mouth, pooling on the kitchen island. I gripped his wrist, attempting to control the pace of his thrusts, but it was clear he was in control now. My mouth belonged to him. My mouth and deeper.

"Open up. Let me in," he urged, his voice at once soft and booming. "You can do it. That's it. All the way. Deeper. Deeper. Hold it."

Luther kept up a steady stream of encouragement as he continued to work my mouth and throat, sliding his fingers deeper. Soon enough I stopped gagging, caught the rhythm, and then he picked up the pace, changed orientation. At one point he attempted to slip in a third finger, his ring finger which bore a simple silver band, but my mouth was too tight. That was all it took though. Suddenly I gasped, shuddered, unloading for the second time that day, shocking myself. Luther withdrew his fingers, wiping them on his shirt, grinning down at me while I leaned against the kitchen island, body wracked with orgasm, my nuts emptying into my board shorts.

"Fuuuuuck," I moaned. "How did you do that?" I felt exhausted, drained. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I must look like a mess, I thought.

Luther laughed.

"That was fun, white boy," he boomed, picking up his tool bag. With his free hand he fished into his gray sweatpants pocket, and I saw the freakish bulge I had noted earlier. Then he slapped it on the counter between us.

His business card.

"Call me when you're ready to have some real fun."

Luther made his way to the foyer, and out the front door before I could respond. I almost collapsed right there on the kitchen floor. I reached into my board shorts and felt the wetness there, the load I had just unleashed. I brought it to my lips, and for the first time, tasted it, moaning.

It was fucking delicious.

END OF PART 1