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***First attempt at writing a multi-part series, this is Chapter 1. All constructive criticism is welcomed, and I hope you enjoy. Don't worry, this will get racier as it progresses. The story will involve both MF and MM sexual themes***
Chapter 1
Michael Salvatore D’Avanzo (known to his friends as Mikey D, among other things), sighed and looked at his watch – a cheap Timex with a rubberized band. The watch was fine for work. Nothing expensive, it did the job, and it didn’t matter if it got dirty or a little banged-up.
2:35 PM. “Fuck, three more hours of this shit?!,” Mikey hissed through his teeth.
He’d been on the job since 7AM that morning. A new condo building for dickhole Fintech yuppies being constructed in Hoboken. The site was in its initial phases, ultimately it would be 35 stories high with a view of Manhattan. Mikey and his crew were there for the initial part – demo-ing the existing structures, tearing-up concrete, and removing all of the debris.
The work was physical, and it was already a soaking-wet-humid 90 degrees Fahrenheit. Jersey in August, my man.
Mikey sighed and wiped his brow with his ropey, thick forearm, the dense black hair matted with sweat and construction grime. Back to work cugine, he thought, as he gripped the jackhammer and prepared to break out yet another block of concrete.
“Hey, fangul!” Mikey heard before he started back to work. “It’s breaktime, bro!”
Mikey turned toward the voice. It was his buddy and crewmate Tony Bruni, a neighborhood guy from Middletown, whom Mikey had known since third grade.
Tony smiled at Mikey, bright white, perfect teeth in the middle of a deeply tanned face – the result of many hours in the sun, and many hours in the “sun” at “Miami Skin” in Monmouth County.
“Tony, stopfuckingaround, it’s not breaktime, and I want to get out of here onfuckingtime today.”
Mikey was pissed, but not that angry, how could anyone be at that kid.
“Naw brah, it’s BREAKTIME,” Tony said as he pumped his fist in the air. “BREAKTIME!” Tony pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and started playing “Body” by Loud Luxury.
Tony knew EVERY word in this gym bro anthem and did pretty damn good pantomime to the lyrics. He complimented the show by pulling his sweaty wife beater up and waving his hardhat over his head every time the lyric, “losing all my innocence” was sung.
The site crew guys were howling at this point.
“Tony! Stop that shit! You look like a fanook!” Mikey laughingly said as Tony twisted his abs and bucked his hips like a stripper.
The other guys continued chuckling as Tony approached Mikey.
“Hey brah, it’s Friday, my man, what are we getting into tonight? Wild shit, right?!”
“Naw, I have a date with Stephanie Costanzo tonight, my man. You remember her, right, from back in the day?”
“Stephanie Costanzo?? That chick who had braces until senior year and who was in Science Club?!” Tony said in disbelief. “THAT Stephanie Costanzo??”
“Uhh huh.” Mikey said shrugging.
“Stephanie Costanzo who is the little sister of Vince, the fucking asshole who used to slap our asses with a towel in the locker room after we had wrestling practice, Costanzo?”
“Yup”
“Alright cugine, you do you brah, but that chick was a fuckin nerd, amirite?!”
“She’s not so nerdy now,” Mikey said.
“What do you mean?”
Mikey made the shape of an hourglass with his big, rough hands, and then made an upward cupping motion.
“Youhavetobefukinkiddingme, brah!” Tony laughed. “All grown up now I see, I need details.”
Mikey blushed through his tan and laughed a little nervously.
“I mean, uhh, we just reconnected recently, uhh.”
“I see how it is, bro, ok.” Tony winked lasciviously and squeezed his crotch through his jeans.
“Well, uh, umm, ha.”
“I’ll just get the deets later . . . and I want to know EVERTYHING about that sweet fica, man!” Tony said as he put his hands in front of him and thrust his hips back and forth in a fucking motion, making a high pitched, falsetto moaning sound, “Mikey, Mikey, Mikey, I need you to light my Bunsen burner! Ahh OOOOH!”
Mikey hit the rim of Tony’s hardhat, knocking it to the ground, and laughed. “Ok, my man, I’ll see you at Golds on Saturday at 10.”
***
Finally, it was 530, time to go home.
Mikey got into his Ford F-150 and turned the AC on full blast. He was covered in sweat and the cool air felt fantastic against his thick, muscular frame.
As he drove down the Garden State Parkway the A/C blew against his chest. Mikey didn’t notice until he started to shiver a little, the air against his skin made his nipples tense and press through his still damp beater.
Mikey subconsciously brushed his big hand over his left nipple, the one with the barbell piercing. Man, that felt good, ha! Mikey reached his hand under the strap of his beater, feeling his thick pec and the trimmed chest hair, giving it a good squeeze.
“Damn, I’m putting some mass back on,” Mikey laughed to himself. Those extra days at the gym with Tony and Nate (another high school buddy of theirs from way back) were paying off. Mikey was 28, but had kept his physique in pretty top form, building on his muscle memory from high school wrestling and putting on a bunch of lean mass as he got older. Working in construction definitely helped the cause as well. Now, he was a built 6’2”, 230, with a 32 inch waist. That, coupled with his chiseled jaw, thick black stubble, full eyebrows and lashes, and sleek, medium length black hair, and mischievous hazel eyes meant he was always popular with the ladies.
That and something else. Mikey was especially blessed in the meat department. Soft he was around 6 inches, hard he was close to 10, and 7 in diameter. A thick, vascular piece that matched the rest of his body . . . and his set of massive, low-hanging balls, each the size of a plum.
Mikey pulled off the Garden State and headed toward Middletown. It was going to be a good night with Stephanie, he couldn’t wait to shower-up and meet her.
Chapter 1
Michael Salvatore D’Avanzo (known to his friends as Mikey D, among other things), sighed and looked at his watch – a cheap Timex with a rubberized band. The watch was fine for work. Nothing expensive, it did the job, and it didn’t matter if it got dirty or a little banged-up.
2:35 PM. “Fuck, three more hours of this shit?!,” Mikey hissed through his teeth.
He’d been on the job since 7AM that morning. A new condo building for dickhole Fintech yuppies being constructed in Hoboken. The site was in its initial phases, ultimately it would be 35 stories high with a view of Manhattan. Mikey and his crew were there for the initial part – demo-ing the existing structures, tearing-up concrete, and removing all of the debris.
The work was physical, and it was already a soaking-wet-humid 90 degrees Fahrenheit. Jersey in August, my man.
Mikey sighed and wiped his brow with his ropey, thick forearm, the dense black hair matted with sweat and construction grime. Back to work cugine, he thought, as he gripped the jackhammer and prepared to break out yet another block of concrete.
“Hey, fangul!” Mikey heard before he started back to work. “It’s breaktime, bro!”
Mikey turned toward the voice. It was his buddy and crewmate Tony Bruni, a neighborhood guy from Middletown, whom Mikey had known since third grade.
Tony smiled at Mikey, bright white, perfect teeth in the middle of a deeply tanned face – the result of many hours in the sun, and many hours in the “sun” at “Miami Skin” in Monmouth County.
“Tony, stopfuckingaround, it’s not breaktime, and I want to get out of here onfuckingtime today.”
Mikey was pissed, but not that angry, how could anyone be at that kid.
“Naw brah, it’s BREAKTIME,” Tony said as he pumped his fist in the air. “BREAKTIME!” Tony pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and started playing “Body” by Loud Luxury.
Tony knew EVERY word in this gym bro anthem and did pretty damn good pantomime to the lyrics. He complimented the show by pulling his sweaty wife beater up and waving his hardhat over his head every time the lyric, “losing all my innocence” was sung.
The site crew guys were howling at this point.
“Tony! Stop that shit! You look like a fanook!” Mikey laughingly said as Tony twisted his abs and bucked his hips like a stripper.
The other guys continued chuckling as Tony approached Mikey.
“Hey brah, it’s Friday, my man, what are we getting into tonight? Wild shit, right?!”
“Naw, I have a date with Stephanie Costanzo tonight, my man. You remember her, right, from back in the day?”
“Stephanie Costanzo?? That chick who had braces until senior year and who was in Science Club?!” Tony said in disbelief. “THAT Stephanie Costanzo??”
“Uhh huh.” Mikey said shrugging.
“Stephanie Costanzo who is the little sister of Vince, the fucking asshole who used to slap our asses with a towel in the locker room after we had wrestling practice, Costanzo?”
“Yup”
“Alright cugine, you do you brah, but that chick was a fuckin nerd, amirite?!”
“She’s not so nerdy now,” Mikey said.
“What do you mean?”
Mikey made the shape of an hourglass with his big, rough hands, and then made an upward cupping motion.
“Youhavetobefukinkiddingme, brah!” Tony laughed. “All grown up now I see, I need details.”
Mikey blushed through his tan and laughed a little nervously.
“I mean, uhh, we just reconnected recently, uhh.”
“I see how it is, bro, ok.” Tony winked lasciviously and squeezed his crotch through his jeans.
“Well, uh, umm, ha.”
“I’ll just get the deets later . . . and I want to know EVERTYHING about that sweet fica, man!” Tony said as he put his hands in front of him and thrust his hips back and forth in a fucking motion, making a high pitched, falsetto moaning sound, “Mikey, Mikey, Mikey, I need you to light my Bunsen burner! Ahh OOOOH!”
Mikey hit the rim of Tony’s hardhat, knocking it to the ground, and laughed. “Ok, my man, I’ll see you at Golds on Saturday at 10.”
***
Finally, it was 530, time to go home.
Mikey got into his Ford F-150 and turned the AC on full blast. He was covered in sweat and the cool air felt fantastic against his thick, muscular frame.
As he drove down the Garden State Parkway the A/C blew against his chest. Mikey didn’t notice until he started to shiver a little, the air against his skin made his nipples tense and press through his still damp beater.
Mikey subconsciously brushed his big hand over his left nipple, the one with the barbell piercing. Man, that felt good, ha! Mikey reached his hand under the strap of his beater, feeling his thick pec and the trimmed chest hair, giving it a good squeeze.
“Damn, I’m putting some mass back on,” Mikey laughed to himself. Those extra days at the gym with Tony and Nate (another high school buddy of theirs from way back) were paying off. Mikey was 28, but had kept his physique in pretty top form, building on his muscle memory from high school wrestling and putting on a bunch of lean mass as he got older. Working in construction definitely helped the cause as well. Now, he was a built 6’2”, 230, with a 32 inch waist. That, coupled with his chiseled jaw, thick black stubble, full eyebrows and lashes, and sleek, medium length black hair, and mischievous hazel eyes meant he was always popular with the ladies.
That and something else. Mikey was especially blessed in the meat department. Soft he was around 6 inches, hard he was close to 10, and 7 in diameter. A thick, vascular piece that matched the rest of his body . . . and his set of massive, low-hanging balls, each the size of a plum.
Mikey pulled off the Garden State and headed toward Middletown. It was going to be a good night with Stephanie, he couldn’t wait to shower-up and meet her.