Page 17 of Big Britches
“Whaddaya mean, those catalogs? It was International Male.”
“Over-priced and cheaply made. All that skimpy stuff. I’m surprised it’s not mesh.”
Titus blushed. “They have some of those, too.”
“Now I know why you’re hoarding them up there in the bedroom.”
Titus opened his mouth to protest, thought better, then closed it.
Roz changed the subject. “Tucker wants to know if you’ll go swimming with him and Shelly after lunch.”
He was still clutching the towel to his crotch. It was doing nothing to subdue his arousal, though. The pressure may have been contributing to it.
“Later in the day,” he said. “I have a few things to take care of first.”
“Please tell me one of them is that noise with the refrigerator.”
“Yeah. Yeah, sure thing. Let me shower and I’ll get right on that.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“I’m going to hold you to it,” she said, pointing. “I’ll keep the kids out of your hair in the meantime. Lunch in two hours.”
“Make it three, please? Oh, and make an extra plate… for Pedro.”
Roz paused, raising an eyebrow. She studied Titus, who was still hunched over with the towel on his privates.
“You’re having lunch… with the gardener?”
“I prefer the term yardman. But, yes, I’m having lunch with Pedro. We’re going to discuss new landscaping plans.”
Roz held her scrutiny. Slowly, she nodded. “OK, then. I’ll make an extra plate.”
“Thank you, Roz.”
Her gaze lingered long, bemused and intrigued, before she turned and left the room.
Upstairs, instead of going into his bedroom on the front side of the house, Titus crossed to a guest room window overlooking the backyard. He glanced across to the driveway where Pedro was lowering the gate on his trailer. Even in the distance, Titus could see the young man’s muscular arms when adjusting the metal ramp into place. He didn’t have bulky gym muscle like Titus; his shape was naturally developed, lean and lithe, from hard work.
Why are you thinking about this?
Titus went to his bedroom and tossed the towel into the hamper. He lowered his swimsuit and his dick sprang out, bouncing like a miniature diving board. The only thing lacking was a cartoon sound effect.
What are you doing? Pedro’s just here to do the yard. He’s not like you, brimming with years of pent-up horniness. He’s here to do a job.
Titus looked down at his bobbing erection rising higher to face him. The slit of its opening curved in what looked to Titus like a tiny grin.
I should probably take care of that.
He heard the hum of the lawnmower start from outside, its lazy cadence circling toward the east side of the house.
Titus crossed hurriedly to his own bedroom window. Seconds after he parted the sheers, he saw Pedro roll into view on the mower. Even from here, Titus could see the definition in those strong shoulders and forearms.
Pedro rode slowly beneath and past the window in a diagonal line length-wise across the grass. When he reached the lawn’s end, he turned, returning along the adjacent strip. Now, Titus could almost make out his face again, his mind imagining what distance robbed… those dark eyes, the kind smile, that enticing blush.
As the lawn tractor came toward the house, Pedro lifted his water bottle, tilting it back to drink. He was unaware that he was also offering Titus a tantalizing view of his throat muscles and Adam’s apple at work. His eyes were closed from the sun, basking as he savored the cool liquid sustenance. When he opened them again, languidly, bottle still raised, he was looking directly at Titus’s bedroom window.