Being alone at the work station gave me plenty of time to think. Sometimes it was wondering why I was working 45 hour weeks for shit pay, other times I thought about taking up fly fishing or something. Sometimes I thought about nothing at all to the point where I wasn’t sure if I was still conscious while the specimen fridge buzzed in the background.
Today though, I was thinking about how long it had been since I got laid. Or even got myself off for that matter; had it really been a month since I last came?? Fuck. I stretched my tan legs under my desk. Living in a coed bunkhouse with 4 dudes I barely knew made lots of things difficult, masturbating not the least of them. There’s no way they wouldn’t be able to hear me; even if I was quiet, the shitty old bed would not be. Embarrassing.
I’d driven to a couple worksites with one of my coworkers, Mark, and he seemed pretty cool. Basic interests of a 20-something Midwest guy fresh out of college. Video games, going to the lake on his days off, bouldering, eating my fucking gourmet pickled green beans out of the fridge. All in all someone I would consider a friend if I spent more than 35 minutes a day with them outside of work.
Now here’s the thing. I swing both ways with a preference for women and a specific taste in men that are, for the sake of brevity, rare and hard to find. Especially in entry-level research jobs. Mark was tall, lean and kind of awkwardly put together, but funny and laid-back. Easy to be real casual with. He had lots of freckles and cute curly reddish blonde hair, and a little bit of orange stubble that made him look older when he didn’t shave. Attractive maybe but not quite for me. Plus he always wore those goofy pants that zip into shorts like some kind of surprisingly spry middle aged hiker.
Like I said though, it had been at least a month since I last came and even longer since someone else made me cum. Sometimes whatever’s available looks pretty damn good. Good dick is good dick, silicone or otherwise, as my friend back home always said. My other options were Russ, a guy who basically did the job on the side and went backpacking every second he got. He was literally never at the bunkhouse when I was, so I didn’t know much more about him than that. Jon was gay so no dice there, smokin hot though. Javier had a steady girlfriend.
Of course, my only option would also have to be interested in me. Which did not appear to be the case. I sighed and checked my watch, then looked back at the immense spreadsheet on the screen in front of me. Just over 1 hour left of my shift and it didn’t look like I’d gotten anything done besides be bummed at how sexually frustrated I was. A swig of iced tea and I dove back into plugging in data, trying not to wonder if Mark had v-lines.
I returned to the bunkhouse that evening to find it empty. Unusual. Hmmm I ought to use that to its fullest potential. So I showered with my favorite blues rock album turned up loud, cooked the next few days’ meals, and relaxed on the couch with a book I picked up at a garage sale on the way home. I hoped I would “get in the mood” before one of the guys got home but was pretty content to just relax after a long day. Plus I didn’t want to get sweaty again after showering.
3 and half chapters later, the front door grated open as Mark shoved his way in with a box of groceries.
“Hey,” I greeted him absently. The book was actually really good. I was also a little disappointed to not have the house to myself for the evening.
“Hey dude, how’s it going?” He set the box on the counter and started putting stuff away. I noticed 2 jars of pickled green beans, and blinked in surprise.
“Oh you know, living the dream,” I said sarcastically, “Pretty decent though. How about you? Run into any weirdos today?”
Mark laughed, “Right there with ya. Nah, just a lot of people asking me how to get to x town or y trail head,” he held out one of the jars of beans to me, “Thought I should apologize for stealing so many of these. Truce?”
I frowned, pretending to consider it seriously for half a second. “I accept your offering of beans. Hand me a fork will ya?”
He laughed again and we cracked open our respective jars, clinking them together like drinks and ate a few sour, salty, spicy, delicious beans.
“Fuck those are so good,” Mark groaned, “How did you discover them anyway?”
“My granddad always had ’em and me and my cousins used to beg for them with our lunches, but he told us ‘Not until you can open the jar by yourself, kiddo,’ So when we finally could open the jar, he bought us all some and I’ve been hooked ever since. They must put crack in the brine or something,” I laughed and munched on another one.
Mark shrugged, “Well consider me another bean addict,”
“Better stow ’em before we eat ’em all, huh,” I stood to grab a pen, “My jar has the big ‘X’ on the lid okay?”
“Got it boss,” he gave me two thumbs up.
After putting away the rest of his groceries, Mark took a shower. I settled back into my book where I left off. I glanced up over my book when he walked out, surprised to see him in just a towel wrapped around his waist. Normally we all followed the unspoken rule of changing clothes in the bathroom after a shower. My gaze lingered a little longer than I meant it to. He must have noticed me looking.
“Sorry, forgot to grab my clothes,” He said quickly, ducking into his bedroom.
“No worries,” I said simply, blushing furiously behind the pages of my book. Mark did in fact have v-lines. He also had a few curls of ruddy hair below his navel, and freckles across his surprisingly toned chest. Somehow I’d never noticed, even the afternoons we all drove down to the lake to swim and drank cheap beer on the sand while the sun skimmed down over the trees. Fucking hell man, why do I have to be all flustered now? Am I really that desperate?
My blush had subsided and I had pushed the image of Mark in just a towel sufficiently to the back of my mind for safekeeping when he came back out, scrubbing his curly wet hair with the towel. This time fully clothed in old sweats and a thin tshirt. The shirt draped across his shoulders and chest nicely. I hoped he didn’t catch me looking again but the corner of his mouth belied a smirk when his back was to me.
While he boiled some pasta for his dinner, we slipped into casual conversation. Normal stuff; what the boss had to say in the most recent staff email, the giant flock of turkeys that took over a picnic area for several hours, stories about nights out with friends in college. Talking to him now was so relaxed and easy, I almost forgot how awkward he was sometimes. The edges of my thoughts crept back to my afternoon crisis. Mark really never gave me any indication that he would be into me in any way. That’s okay, I thought to myself. No use fixating on someone unavailable.
“It doesn’t look like anyone else is going to be here tonight, did you shut the gate?” I asked. Last person home locks the gate.
“Yeah the other guys all have the weekend off and Russ somehow convinced them to go on a backpacking trip with him,” he nodded.
“Ah, good to know. You work tomorrow?”
“No but I wanted to get some cleaning done around here. Kind of a pig sty huh?” He gestured humorously around at the negligible mess. Though the floor needed to be swept and mopped for sure.
I pouted, “Lucky you, I’m stuck with data logging duty for the next 3 days,”
“Fuckin laaame dude,” he drawled and we both laughed at the inside joke.
Mark plopped down on the couch next to me with a bowl of noodles.
“What’s the book about?” He said, shoveling a spoonful of saucy rigatoni into his mouth.
“Its kind of like sci-fi?” I flipped it to show him the back cover.
“Describe the plot so far, I don’t mind spoilers.”
“Okay, so…” As I tried to map out the happenings of my book while he ate, I was starting to get distracted by his hair. It was mostly dry now, curling into silky ringlets that framed his face. It looked super soft and I wanted to touch it, twist my fingers in it, pull it by the handful… I cut my brain off there.
“That sounds so interesting,” Mark said when I finished my synopsis, “Can I borrow it when you’re done? I have a lot of time to kill on my shifts next week,” he got up to clean up his dinner.
“Yeah sure, I should be done by like tomorrow probably,” I went back to half-reading. While he did dishes, we went back to conversation. More personal stuff now, his favorite psychology classes in college, why I quit the soccer team my senior year of high school, shitty ex girlfriends. He sat back down on the couch, leaning on the opposite arm and folding his legs so we sat face-to-face.
“Sorry, but can I touch your hair? It looks so fricken soft right now,” I said after a short pause in the conversation.
Mark shook his head so the curls danced around his ears, “Yes, but only if you also give me a head massage,” he shuffled to the ground so he leaned back on my knees. I was surprised by how willing he was for me to do that; maybe people ask all the time? As my fingers sunk into his hair, I held back a moan. It really was so fucking soft and smelled amazing.
“Holy shit what conditioner do you use?” I murmured in awe.
Mark chuckled, “I don’t know the brand but it comes in an orange bottle and smells like sandalwood or something? My mom bought it for me once and I never looked back.”
I hummed in response. My hands worked their way to his scalp, returning my end of the agreement.
“You been thinking about this all day huh,” he said in a sleepy voice, not at all a question. I blushed again, thankful he couldn’t see. Is he flirting with me?
“I mean, just since you showered I guess, I don’t want to touch sweaty man hair,” I replied as casually as I could.
“Mhmm” he said. I don’t think he was really paying attention at all. His back slumped against my legs and he leaned his head back, almost involuntarily.
“Can I ask you a question?” He said slowly.
“Yeah, shoot.”
“Are you like a lesbian? You said you had ex girlfriends…” He trailed off.
I laughed, feeling a little bold, “No, I like boys too sometimes, don’t have any luck with them either,”
“Oh okay, that’s fair,” he said. Definitely not flirting with me.
I slowly rubbed his head in silence for a while, making little circles on his temples and dragged my fingertips up and down the back of his neck. He was clearly enjoying it, half asleep and leaning against me entirely. I guess I was enjoying it too because I didn’t really notice when his head was in my lap and I was absently stroking his sideburns. His eyes drifted open and met mine.
Ohhhhhh fuck…
He blinked quickly and scooted forward before standing up. He was blushing, pink under the freckles.
“Uh thanks, that was really nice after a long day and all…” He said awkwardly.
“Yeah no problem, your hair is really crazy soft,” I said, twice as awkwardly. We both tried to avoid each other’s eyes.
“Well, I’m gonna get ready for bed,” he tugged the hem of his shirt and turned toward the bathroom. I sat on the couch unsure of what to do next. He definitely could have maybe been flirting with me but what in the hell was that?? Bro.
I stewed on the couch while Mark brushed his teeth. I opened my book and shut it again decisively, then walked quickly to my room. Sitting on my bed, I shook my head in frustration. Was I giving mixed signals? Is Mark just super not into me? Should I start going heavy with the flirting just in case? Are we both idiots? Probably. But that split second of direct eye contact in a moment of very close proximity made my belly ache with lust. I wonder if he felt it too. I got up to go wash my face before bed.
I nearly collided with Mark in the hallway, having forgotten he was still in the bathroom.
“Oops, sorry about that,” I muttered, keeping my eyes averted.
“No worries,” he responded in a relaxed tone that convinced me to look up slightly at his face. He had a slight smile and his eyes met mine, again.
He laughed quietly, “Goodnight.”
That little laugh made my heart dive to my toes, and gave me chills that tingled like electricity in my chest. He’s definitely flirting with me now.
“‘Night,” I said quickly, moving past him to the open bathroom door. Fuck!!
On my way back to my room with a freshly washed face and somewhat racing heart, I glanced at his closed door halfway hoping he would open it. I’m not sure what I wanted him to do or even what I would do, but still. When it remained shut, I closed my door with a quiet sigh.
Maybe I’m just so desperately in need of a good fucking that I’m imagining things.
I even debated masturbating, the thought of Mark waking up to the sound of me moaning and walking in on me fingering myself simultaneously embarrassing and exciting.
I decided against that though, in favor of sleeping at least a little before my alarm went off at 7:30. My mind sifted through images of women in striped string bikinis and the towel around Mark’s hips falling to the ground as I drifted off to sleep.
Several hours later, I found myself awake again. A little bit of moonlight coming in through the bunkhouse windows gave everything a dim blue-gray glow. I’d barely slept, fitfully in between half-dreams. I didn’t bother looking at my clock, knowing I would be disappointed. My throat felt really dry so I got up, quietly opened my bedroom door, and tiptoed to the kitchen for a glass of water.
The water was cold and refreshing when I took a big gulp, leaning against the counter. Then I heard the gentle creak of a door opening and Mark’s figure emerged from the hallway.
“Shit, did I wake you up? Sorry,” I whispered.
“No, I couldn’t sleep,” he replied in a soft voice.
“Oh. Brain won’t turn off huh,” I sympathized. My thoughts kept waking me up too.
“Yeah I guess so,” he said, pouring himself a glass of tap water. I sensed he wanted to say something else so I remained silent. He took a long drink from his glass before I felt his eyes on mine in the darkness. I was suddenly aware of tension between him and me, like a spring pulled tight.
“I um,” Mark began slowly, setting his water down, “I was just thinking…”
“Mhmm?” I encouraged him to continue. There were only a few feet between us.
He inhaled and in a coarse voice he said, “Can I kiss you?”
“Yeah,” I breathed and he was already standing inches away, hands carefully touching my face. He leaned slightly to kiss my lips, neither of us moving further than that. When he pulled away just as gently as our mouths had come together, it was like a match was dropped on a pool of gasoline. His hands were still ever so lightly touching my cheek and jaw.
This time I moved in to kiss him, still moving slowly but I tried to channel all the want that was suddenly burning furiously inside me into the kiss. Mark felt the fire instantly and he kissed me so hard I felt like I’d never breathe again. He was pushing me back with his body until I bumped into the edge of the counter before I could think. His tongue thrust into my mouth, and I responded in kind.
In seconds his hands were under my shirt, stroking my belly and chest. I broke the kiss so he could remove my shirt, and my thin sports bra followed it on the floor moments later.
“Fuck,” he panted, our mouths scarcely apart and his hands full of my breasts. My nipples stiffened when they came in contact with the cool air.
“I want you so bad,” I replied with my hands up his shirt.
Wordlessly he stepped back to tear off his shirt while I scooted up on the low countertop. He quickly pushed my legs wide with his hips, bumping into my core forcefully. I let out a moan against his mouth.
“Fuck,” he repeated, “You really want it bad huh.” He kept grinding into me, peppering kisses on my jaw and neck. I could feel his hard-on through our pajamas.
“Haven’t stopped thinking about it since this afternoon,” I said, whimpering as pleasure coursed through my veins. I had one hand braced behind me on the counter, the other gripping the back of his neck.
“God that’s so fucking hot,” he moaned and kissed my mouth hard. I reached between us into his pants to pull his cock free. His breath caught when I stroked it in my hand. I didn’t have to see it to know it was bigger than I expected.
“Condom,” he said, yanking open a drawer and fishing one out. Swiftly rolling it on, he returned his hands to my waist and kissed my throat with an open mouth. I didn’t even stop to think why there would be condoms in the drawer of our bunkhouse kitchen, it didn’t matter. I just wanted his cock in me as soon as possible.
My pussy ached as he maneuvered my pajama pants down my legs, tossing them aside carelessly. He just pushed my panties aside and I felt the head of his cock press at my entrance.
“I’m so fucking wet Mark please give it to me,” I moaned in his ear. Then he was pushing himself inside me, stretching me to the limit. I gasped and pulled his hair just like I had imagined hours ago. He moaned too, and moved in short, hard strokes. My own desperation blended with his in the needy sounds that filled the room.
“Harder, please, Mark,” I begged. He obliged, slamming his hips against me. His cock slid against my g-spot with each thrust and I could feel the orgasm building quickly. He was moving so hard and fast, I could hardly speak. The force of the orgasm flashed through me and I arched my back. His mouth latched to my collar bone, fucking me right through the orgasm.
“Keep going, keep going,” I gasped, leaning back a little. Our eyes met and his pace slowed. The moonlight made his blue-gray eyes light up just enough to see them. In and out he moved, at a rhythm I could only hear by the soft grunts he made at the effort. He kissed me hard and deep, and moaned against my mouth. He pushed as deep as he could and came, cock twitching inside me. I wrapped my arms around him and rolled my hips with his short little involuntary thrusts.
His body sagged against mine while I rubbed his back, whispering into his ear.
“Good boy,” I purred, “So good,”
“Mhmm,” he mumbled. He pulled out slowly, making me hiss at the absence. He was about to step away but I caught his face and pulled him back to me for a kiss. I let my tongue trace his lip, pulling it with my teeth for good measure.
He smiled against my mouth and pulled away. I giggled, his bare torso shining faintly with sweat in the moonlight streaming in through a window.
“What’s so funny, huh?” He said, picking up my pajamas and tossing them to me as I scooted off the counter. I shook my head.
“Nothing, I just came so damn hard I think I forgot my name for a minute there.”
He laughed too, “Yeah? It’s been a while for me honestly, I’m just glad I lasted that long.”
We both dressed slowly; I caught him staring at me as I put my bra back on. Normally I want to cuddle after sex but this felt so casual, and I didn’t want to be too forward by asking him to be my little spoon on the tiny full-sized mattress in my room. Plus he was still my coworker.
I needed another glass of water, and I filled his back up too.
“To fucking,” I raised my cup to his.
“Hear hear,” Mark said, clinking them together.
On the way back to our bedrooms, I felt a little awkward again.
“Well, goodnight, and thank you?” I said, turning to face him.
“Yeah, ‘night,” he said shyly. As if he hadn’t just been railing me in the kitchen minutes ago.
I rolled my eyes at both of us and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, bringing him toward me to kiss him hard. He got the message and put his hands on my ass, returning the kiss eagerly. I pulled on the back of his hair firmly so he would look me in the eye.
“Don’t be so shy after dicking me down a minute ago, huh?” I said in a low voice. Then I noticed how dark his eyes were.
“Do that again,” he whispered.
“What?”
“Again. Pull my hair again,” he said hoarsely. I did and he made the most obscene noise I’d ever heard a man make. I planted an open-mouthed kiss on his exposed throat which made him shiver.
“You’re sure full of surprises. C’mon,” I led him into my bedroom by the hem of his pants, imagining all the ways I was about to get him to make that noise again. He clearly wasn’t done and neither was I.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/pbuok4/moonlighting_fm_long
Pretty hot story!