The Boy Can't Help It

by Gavin Atlas

  “You guys were supposed to be finished already,” he said, “and you’ve hardly started.”

  “And if you keep kicking us out for your pool parties, your parents will be back before we’re done, and we’ll have to let them know the cause of all the delays, won’t we?”

  He seemed to consider this, then walked out with a huff. I took a long look at his tight, round ass before going back to the branch. The real issue was not his parties so much as the fact that the whole neighborhood needed work done after the hurricane. The people who were supposed to remove the tree never bothered to show up. So Dylan wasn’t the main problem, but still, I didn’t appreciate his ordering us around or his snide smirks when I answered my cell phone, “Hercules to the rescue!” When he pays my bills, he can criticize.

  It was hard to concentrate on the huge tree branch in front of me when all I could think about was Dylan’s body. He definitely worked out a lot—ripped arms and thick thighs. His stomach was flat, but his obliques weren’t defined, which was perfect. I’d rather have a guy look like a human than some bodybuilding machine. He was tan and smooth, and his piercing dark eyes made him appear confident and not the least bit innocent.

  In fact, from the way he talked on the phone, he had a lot of sex. Dylan hadn’t gone back downstairs, and I could hear bits and pieces of his conversation.

  “Chuck, you know I’d let you fuck me, but I need at least one person to be my friend instead of my top,” he said. “And I told you, I’m only into daddies.”

  Well, that was interesting information.

  “Uh, no, I think not,” he snapped. “I meant rich daddies, not construction workers. I mean he’s hot and built like a tank, but I’m just not into the blue collar thing. My dad’s boss is coming over to play around. He’s been screwing me for a while.” There was a pause and then he said something I couldn’t hear. Then I heard him say loudly, “Of course I’m doing it for the connections. If I did as bad as I think I did this semester, I need a job fast.” Another pause. “I don’t know. He’s okay, but he’s not what I would call good looking. No matter how much time I spend in the gym, I never get the hot daddies. But it’ll get me employed and, just as important, it gets my ass fucked.” I heard him hang up and then I heard the shower running.

  “Hey, are you going to stand there, or are you going to help me carry this?” Alex asked, referring to the large branch. We thought about tossing it out the hole in the wall, but we didn’t want to risk damaging the patio out back. We’d carry it all the way out the front door.

  “So it sounds like the son is one of your kind,” Alex said with a leer as we made our way down the stairs. “Why is that always the way? Not once have we run into a horny college girl.”

  “Like you’d have the balls to do anything about it if we did,” I said.

  “And you do? You’re going to nail this kid?”

  “Did you hear that ‘blue collar’ shit? He’s a snot.”

  “Just as well,” Alex said. “It’d be risky, diddling a rich lawyer’s boy.”

  “He’s an adult.” I figured he was around twenty-one. From what I’d heard him tell his friends, it sounded like his parents thought he was going to graduate, but he wasn’t.

  As we climbed back up the stairs, Dylan emerged from his room only wearing a towel. His muscled torso looked wonderful spotted with water droplets and his wet, black hair fell haphazardly into his eyes.

  “Hey, I have a job interview. You guys need to clear out…now,” Dylan ordered.

  Alex rolled his eyes.

  “Look, buddy,” I said. “We could lose other contracts if we keep putting up with your bullshit. Do you know how many people need repairs? What are your parents going to think if we decide to skip out on this job because their son kept us from doing our work?”

  He hesitated. Another thing I knew from Dylan’s constant blabbing on the phone to this Chuck person was that he feared his father’s wrath more than a little.

  “Fine,” he said. “But you need to disappear for a while.”

  I had an idea.

  “Alex, there’s not much more you can do with the wall until they get the tree. Why don’t you go home? I’m going to see what kind of repairs need to be done to the ventilation. Sound good, kid? I’ll be in the attic. You won’t even know I’m there.”

  “Whatever. Fine.” He turned back to his room, his hair flicking water on my face and shirt.

  Alex gave me a dubious look, but I didn’t care. Hercules Construction was my company, and I could do what I wanted.

  Twenty minutes later I heard this boss guy climbing the stairs. It seemed like he’d let himself in and knew his way around the house.

  I happened to be situated right at the air vent above Dylan’s bedroom and had a clear view of most of it. Dylan was dressed like the perfect little prep—neatly ironed striped shirt and a navy tie combined with dark dress pants that hugged his rear. The boss entered with such a forceful manner that Dylan backed up a little.

  “Hi Cliff,” Dylan stammered.

  “I told you to call me Mr. Tyler,” the older man said, immediately grabbing Dylan’s bulge and rump. “And I thought I told you to be naked with your legs in the air.”

  “Yes, Mr. Tyler.” Dylan rapidly stripped.

  “Leave just the tie and keep the lights on. I like watching my cock go in and out of you.”

  “Anything,” said Dylan. “I’ll do whatever you want if you give me a job.”

  In less than two minutes this Mr. Tyler had Dylan on his back and had begun lubing up his hole. The boss had a small dick, but Dylan must have been very tight because his face turned red with effort when Tyler pushed in. God, if I got my dick in Dylan, I’d split him in two.

  The boss rammed in and out furiously. Dylan groaned. His eyes were closed, and he did his best to push his hips up to meet every thrust.

  “If you want to get a job with me, you’ll be giving me this ass all summer long, boy,” barked the boss.

  “Yes, Mr. Tyler,” Dylan said, gasping.

  I felt ashamed at being hard. How could the boss do this? No kissing, no caressing. Just taking his pleasure in Dylan’s ass.

  The boss came in practically no time, shouting twice and collapsing on top of Dylan. The exec looked haggard and disheveled.

  “Good enough,” he said, rolling off the bed and immediately beginning to dress.

  That’s it? Dylan didn’t even get to come.

  “So when can I start work, Mr. Tyler?” Dylan asked, keeping his legs in the air obediently, his pretty hole still on display.

  “I don’t know about that, boy. We don’t have much available right now. I’ll bring by a colleague from another company to play. Tomorrow, same time.”

  “Another new guy?” Dylan said. He seemed to frown but quickly recovered. “Is he rich? That’ll be hot. Do you think he’ll hire me?”

  “Maybe if your ass is good enough.”

  Dylan lowered his legs and looked pissed. The boss left, and Dylan picked up the phone.

  “He didn’t offer me a job,” Dylan complained. “This has been fun, but if I’m not getting anything out of it, then I want a daddy who’s better sex.” There was a pause and then he said, “I told you, I’m only into rich guys, but I don’t know. Never say never. Maybe if I keep being obnoxious to him, he’ll take it out on my ass.” He started stroking himself. “He has total access to the house. It would be really hot if he would walk in while I’m sleeping and just start fucking me. That’d be incredible.” There was a pause while his friend said something. “He’s probably not even gay, but I’m gonna jerk off thinking about him,” he said and hung up. Hmm, it seemed like a lot of guys had total access to this house, but maybe he meant me?

  He put his legs back in the air and fingered himself with one hand while pulling on his fully hard dick with the other. “No,” he whispered to himself, “You can’t have my hole…” He worked himself up a bit. “Okay! Okay! I give in! I’ll do my best to take your dick, Demet
ri.”

  Uh, holy shit. Did he actually notice the name on my shirt or did he know another Demetri?

  I watched his body grind against the sheets, and he muttered “construction dick” as copious spurts of come shot onto his taut stomach. I couldn’t stop myself from grinning.

  I watched him clean himself off with a towel. Then he curled up on his side, still wearing his tie—probably now spattered with jizz.

  The next morning my cell phone rang while I was climbing the stairs, and I heard giggling coming from Dylan’s room when I said, “Hercules to the rescue.” It was Dylan’s father calling from the Bahamas. I explained that even though the county still hadn’t taken down the tree, we should be able to replace some of the missing two-by-fours and repair the damaged roof joist. But until the tree was safely out of the way, we couldn’t work on putting up insulation or new siding. I mentioned that I might need to do some work in the attic without going into details.

  “Is Dylan giving you any trouble?” asked Mr. Cramer.

  I decided to lie. “No problem at all.”

  Dylan slept on and off for half the day. If he wasn’t snoozing, he was on the phone.

  Around mid-afternoon I heard Alex say, “Your boy is up to no good,” as he hammered at the gash. “He’s getting seriously wasted on Daddy’s booze.”

  I peered out the hole in the wall and saw Dylan floating around the pool on an inflatable lounge chair, wearing sunglasses and the skimpiest of bikinis. He drifted around with a bottle of some kind of clear liquid.

  He’d already been a little sloshed when he stumbled nude into our work area earlier.

  “Can you keep it the fuck down?” he’d yelled. “I’m trying to sleep. What are you doing here so early?”

  At that point, it had been nearly noon.

  “Why the hell are you chipping away at the wall?” he’d barked. “You’re supposed to be fixing the hole, not making it wider.”

  I’d given him a steady look. “Well, see, buddy. Dry wall comes in square sheets. So, yes, to make it fit we do need to make your hole wider.”

  Alex had stifled a snicker as Dylan turned beat red.

  “What the fuck ever,” Dylan had griped and huffed out of the room. I don’t think he was clear-headed enough to know he was showing off his bare ass. Crazy kid.

  As I watched him now in the pool, I noticed he kept rubbing his eyes and grimacing like he was crying.

  “Geez, what’s wrong with him today?” I said.

  “I can tell you,” Alex said. “While you were on the phone, I heard him call someone and whine about a letter saying his college is kicking him out for good. Now he’s sure his dad’s gonna kick him out, too.”

  “His dad would do that?” I said, wincing. That made me sad. “Keep an eye on him, Alex. We shouldn’t let him swim.”

  Alex leered at me. “Oh, so we care about him now?”

  “Just do it,” I said, mock-threatening him with a nail gun.

  Not twenty minutes later we heard a loud splash followed by a huge, anguished gasp. I was already flying down the stairs before Dylan screamed for help the first time. When I reached the pool, he was completely submerged, but still flailing wildly. I didn’t have time to kick off my boots. I just dove in and grabbed him. He was disoriented and reflexively struggling, so I had to use all my strength to yank his head above water. Again, he gave an enormous gasp, desperately sucking in air. I held him tight around the chest as he shook and coughed.

  “I know how to swim,” he muttered as he spat out water.

  “Yeah, sure,” I said. “But prove it to me some other time.” I dragged him out of the pool and hoisted him up in my arms.

  “Whee,” he mumbled between coughs, his head lolling.

  I carried him up to his room and dropped him gently on his bed. “Try to get some rest,” I said.

  “Wait, where are you going?” Dylan said, his eyes barely open. His chest still heaved from his near-accident.

  “To get you some juice or something. You probably should have some fluids so you don’t get dehydrated from all that alcohol.”

  “Wait…” he said, rubbing his head absently. “Why do you call your company Hercules Construction?”

  “Hercules is my first name,” I said. “People give me grief if I use it, so I just go by my middle name, Demetri.”

  “I like Hercules,” he said. He stripped off his bikini. “I can’t sleep in a wet bathing suit,” he said in explanation. God, he looked incredible nude.

  “I wish you were gay,” he said, his voice creaky with exhaustion and liquor.

  “Oh, really? I happen to know you only like rich guys.”

  “Are there rich guys in construction?”

  “I can think of one guy who drives a Porsche and vacations in Aruba twice a year.” I turned to leave.

  “Demetri?”

  “What now?”

  “Thank you.”

  I had Alex get me a change of clothes. Then I said he could take the truck back. I’d get a cab again because I wanted to make sure Dylan was all right. I didn’t want to make any noise, so I didn’t hammer up any two-by-fours. An hour later, I heard a couple car doors slam. I went out to the hall and saw a big black Lincoln and Mr. Tyler coming up the walk with some other suit.

  I scrambled up to the attic and crept over to the vent in time to see the execs barge into Dylan’s bedroom, waking him up.

  “Oh, hey,” Dylan said.

  “At least you’re nude this time,” said Mr. Tyler.

  “Damn, he’s a hot one,” said the other man.

  “Dylan, this is Mr. Wells. He’ll be fucking your ass tonight, too.”

  “Let me take a quick shower,” Dylan said, and he left the room.

  “Are you really going to hire him?” Mr. Wells asked in a low voice.

  “God, no,” said Tyler with a scowl. “None of us will. It’s a terrible idea for all kinds of reasons. Besides, I have an inside contact at his university. He failed out.”

  “That’s not going to fly at my corporation,” Wells said, unbuckling his pants.

  “Exactly. There’s no point. He’s just a piece of ass to fuck.”

  Wells chuckled.

  “and fuck and fuck and fuck,” Tyler continued as Wells laughed some more.

  Dylan came back, scrambling to the bed, dripping wet and eager to please.

  “So you want a job, eh?” Wells said, grabbing Dylan by the ass.

  “Absolutely.” Dylan grinned and arched his back, offering himself. “What kind of company would I be working for?”

  “Investments,” Wells purred as he fingered Dylan’s hole. “You have a degree?”

  “Uh, no,” said Dylan, lowering his head sheepishly.

  “Then your ass better be incredible,” said Wells, pushing Dylan on all fours.

  “Trust me, it is,” said Tyler, pushing his dick towards Dylan’s lips.

  I watched as the men penetrated Dylan from either end. When I saw what an enthusiastic cocksucker he was, my dick got so hard it hurt. Wells’ penis wasn’t much bigger than Tyler’s, but Dylan moaned and grunted with each thrust into his ass. It looked like Wells was pushing in and out for all he was worth considering how winded he was. After a minute, he came, shouting “I’m fucking your ass! I’m fucking your ass good!” Then Tyler flipped Dylan onto his back to take his turn in Dylan’s hole. He yanked Dylan to the edge of the bed, and began plunging in feverishly. Wells straddled Dylan’s face and dangled his balls in the boy’s mouth.

  “Mine. All mine,” said Tyler, panting. “Mine to fuck as much as I want.”

  “Ours,” said Wells. Dylan moaned at this and started jerking his dick harder.

  Tyler apparently heightened his pleasure when he heard his own voice. “That’s right. If you want a job and want to keep it, there’s nothing you can ever do to stop any of us from fucking you!” Then Tyler started shouting for God and Jesus as he came forcefully inside Dylan’s ass.

  “Ours,” he said grinning, sha
king hands with Wells while still deep inside Dylan’s rump.

  I suppose asswipe executives with pencil dicks must always come and go quickly without a thought for their bottom’s orgasm. After they left, Dylan remained on his back, looking dejected. He jerked off for a few minutes and then quit to pick up the phone.

  “Chuck, I overheard my dad’s boss say that he’s not going to hire me, and he’s telling all his friends that they shouldn’t either; they should just fuck me…Yes, I’m hurt. And there’s no way my dad is not going to kick me out. I’m sure of it.” Dylan began playing with himself again. “Something else happened, Chuck. I was kind of drunk, and I think the construction worker saved me from drowning in the pool…Yeah, I should apologize. He probably thinks I’m an asshole. I can’t believe he’d rescue me after I was so rude to him…No, I would have told you if he fucked me. He can’t be gay. I stripped and practically offered up my hole to him. I can’t stop thinking about him slipping in while I’m asleep and nailing me. He has a key and that’s been my fantasy all week…Hey, I’m still feeling out of it. I’m going to crash and then pack my stuff. I’ll probably get kicked out the day my folks get back. Bye.”

  He hung up forcefully. “Gee, thanks for offering me a place to stay, Chuck!” he yelled. He exhaled and started stroking himself again.

  He beat off absently, but I could tell he was thinking about having nowhere to live, which did nothing to keep him aroused. He soon fell asleep.

  I had a cramp in my leg from sitting still for so long, but I stayed put and thought. He wasn’t such a bad kid. And he seemed to want me a lot. God knows I wanted him. I sighed.

  Okay then, Hercules to the rescue.

  I sneaked into his room, just like his fantasy, and started to strip. But I just couldn’t wake him by rudely sticking my dick in his ass. I had to kiss him some first.

  He had barely stirred by the time my mouth was on his.

  “Wha—?”

  “It’s me,” I said. “Is this what you wanted?” I reached between his legs and gently massaged his pucker with one hand and caressed his face with the other.