Door to Door Cable Guys [20M, 30s]: Part 01
(Everyone is 18+)
I think most people share the same general distaste for people knocking on doors trying to sell various services, especially when they interrupt you in the middle of something and won’t go away. Thats what happened one afternoon in the summer of 2018. I was 28, single, and home on a Saturday afternoon working on fixing a piece of furniture that I picked out of a neighbors yard on trash day that I thought could be restored. I told the neighbor, and they stopped by to check on the progress. When the neighbor left, the two guys going to every house on the street to sell cable packages must have seen me on the front step saying goodbye to the neighbor and decided to stop by while they knew someone was home.
I hadn’t seen them, so when I went back to work and the doorbell rang a few minutes later, I thought the neighbor had come back for some reason.
It was hot in the house but I wanted the windows open, so I had the air off even though it was upwards of 80 outside. I was working in my tired blue jeans and a light gray beater tank top, which by this point had sweat stains around the neck and around my lower chest. I’m a hairy guy, and I really sweaty when its hot – I probably wouldn’t have worn a shirt at all if I hadnt been planning on having a visitor. I’m 5’-8” with short, dark hair and was about 175-lbs at the time. I didnt really work out much but I was in decent shape.
I heard the doorbell on probably the third or fourth ring in between using a power sander. I set down my tools and came upstairs to answer the door. I was caught a little off guard when I opened it without checking the peep hole and found two guys in cable company vests standing in front of me instead of the neighbor I expected.
I honestly almost shut the door right then, because their company sucks and they come around every few months bothering our neighborhood to switch back. Slamming the door in their faces would have felt great, but I didn't despite my first instinct.
The two guys could not have been more different. The older of the two looked like he was probably late 30s or early 40s. He was balding, short, a little overweight, was not very attractive, and he was wearing a big name-tag that said “Clark”. He didnt look like a Clark to me, but he wasnt the one I cared about anyways. Clark was clearly the one in charge, while his trainee was probably just on for the summer and along for the ride. Clark started his pitch right away. I wasn’t listening.
The younger guy on the other hand was probably only 19-20, with sort of frizzy dirty blonde hair down to his shoulders, and green eyes. He was trim, clearly worked out, and might have given off more of a surfer dude vibe if not for the cable uniform. His name-tag said “Quentin”, and he cracked a smile as soon as I made an unpleasant face when I realized the people at the door were salesmen and not my neighbor. He knew how disappointed I was, and he had probably had doors slammed in his face for most of the afternoon. I wasn’t trying to be rude, I just also didn't want to be bothered. But Quentin was hot, and he almost definitely caught me looking him up and down.
I noticed a slight bulge in Quentins work pants but didn’t want to stare. I decided to cut off Clark and try something way more bold than I had expected of myself.
“Do you guys want to come in for a glass of water? It’s like a hundred degrees today.”
Clark stopped talking, momentarily caught off guard and unsure of what to do. Quentin looked at Clark for direction, but he looked back, confused, and said nothing, so Quentin spoke up.
“Yeah, please, that’d be great actually.”
He looked back and Clark just shrugged. I opened the door and they came in and just kind of stood in the foyer.
“Come on in, I’ll get you waters, be right back.”
They moved a little into the living room. I came back with a water for each of them. Clark sat on the couch, thanked me, and finished almost his entire water in a few gulps. He then started his pitch again, which was about what I expected.
Quentin remained standing, sipping his water cautiously, and looked right at me. Our eyes kept meeting, and I think we both knew I didn’t give a single fuck about cable options. He had one hand in his pocket, and I didn't realize for a minute that he had been adjusting himself. Suddenly, I glanced down and could see his outline through his dark blue work pants. It was extremely hot, and he knew it.
I wasnt sure how long Clark would keep going for, but I knew one of us would have to stop him. After another minute or two, Quentin interrupted.
“Dude, stop.”
Clark stuttered and stopped and looked at his would-be partner. When he was fully quiet for a few seconds, Quentin picked up.
“Do you remember like two weeks ago when you made me wait in the truck so you could go flirt with that chick at the food truck, but you took the keys, so I couldnt turn the AC on and I had to watch your fat ass beg for her number while I slow-cooked?”
Clark chuckled. “Yeah haha, you were like a baked potato when I got back, and she gave me a fake number!” Clarked looked at me and tried to tell me his version, which none of us cared about, but he didnt get far. “She was this big-titted redhead and I’ll tell you – “
“Clark, shut the fuck up.” He stopped immediately and looked hurt. I could tell he wasn't used to being talked down to, especially by a kid he had probably thought liked him because he just put up with his bullshit.
“Whats your problem?” Clark asked, still annoyed.
“I haven’t gotten laid in like a month and I spend all day in a boiling truck listening to your fucking bar stories about pussy you never got.” Quentin must have had some pent up resentment to get out but I let him because even though we had met like 60 seconds ago, we both seemed to have a pretty good idea of what we wanted from each other right then.
“Well you don’t have to be all whiny about it, fuck.” Clark looked at me again. “I’m sorry about him, you don’t want to hear about – “
“No.” I said it flatly, but loud enough that Clark understood I meant it. “I don’t.” I looked at Quentin again.
“You made me sit in the truck when you went into that disgusting adult video store too.” Quentin wasnt smiling, but a light sneer was forming.
“Quin, buddy, I offered to -“
“You offered to get some shitty porn because you thought that was what I wanted and you thought it would keep me quiet so the boss wouldn't know.”
Clark struggled to regain control of the conversation, and started to stand up like he was going to leave.
“Hey, look, this guy let us in for some water, lets just, lets not, you know, lets just say thank you, right? And we can get out of your hair and he and I can sort things out in the tru -“
“Siddown.” I said it faster than I meant to, but I was excited. He froze, half out of his seat. “Sit. Down.”
He looked back at his young partner, who echoed: “Sit down.”
“I dont understand, do you know each other?”
“Not yet” I said with a grin.
“No, but you didnt know food truck chick either.”
Quentin started to unbutton his cable shirt, revealing a smooth chest glistening with sweat. He started to explain.
“Every time you made me wait for your fat ass in that smelly fucking dirty truck, I thought, one day I’ll make you wait. You fucking owe me. So you’re gonna sit right the fuck there…” Quentin had finished unbuttoning his shirt, and he peeled it off and threw it on a chair next to the couch. “…and you’re gonna wait, right there, while I take my turn.”
I was sure he was going to tell his overweight, smelly partner to go wait in the hot truck. It had never occurred to me that he might force him to stay and watch, but it was a fucking hot idea and I’d never had an audience before. I was immediately hard.
“Uh, no fucking way, no. Fuck that. You can’t fucking – “
Quentin looked at me and nodded. I peeled off my sweaty damp shirt and threw it on the same chair as his. I stepped closer to him as he undid the clasp on his uniform pants, and unzipped them. A thick, dark blonde bush started to poke out as his loose pants slid down his hips a bit. The outline of his cut dick strained against his work pants.
“Shut the fuck up Clark. You’re going to sit there and watch or I’m gonna tell Dan that you’ve never finished a full shift this entire summer because you’re too busy shopping for porn DVDs on the clock and theres receipts to prove it.”
“You fucking asshole, I don’t want to watch you two faggots fuck aro – “
Even I was shocked by his use of a word I never said out loud, and I rarely censored myself. All that did was make Quentin even more angry, and with most of his muscles on display, I was impressed at how this skinny kid actually looked pretty intimidating.
Quentin stepped directly in front of his older, out of shape, lonely co-worker, and looked him right in the eye, and pointed in his face.
“Dont ever fucking use that word again, you cunt.”
Clark had probably never seen his partner mad before, and I’d just met him, but fuck he was hot when he was mad.
“You sit there and don’t fucking talk until I say so. Fucking useless incel. Do you understand me?”
Clark nodded quickly, clearly taken aback at the sudden change in his co-worker, now shirtless and in his face.
“Good.” And then Quentin put his hands on the waist of his cable company pants and shoved them to the floor. He hadn’t been wearing underwear. My cock jolted in my jeans. This young stud was naked in my living room, mostly flaccid but growing, and standing over his older co-worker who was so scared and shocked he didnt know what to do. I was looking at a beautifully toned ass with a light covering of blonde fuzz and a muscular back. But knowing that Clark was trapped staring at the kids abs with his cock hanging down was one of the hottest things I’d ever seen.
I stepped around to get a better look. TV and movie sex makes everyone think that every hot guy has a huge dick. Thats not true, and I had never been more grateful. Quentin had a perfect penis. It was probably only 5.5” long and a little thicker than a thick finger but perfectly proportioned. He was cut, with a thick bush and a lightly hairy stomach but smoother chest. His balls hung nicely behind his beautiful cock. He looked like a classical sculpture.
“Move your leg.” Quentin ordered Clark to stop man-spreading and sit more upright in the corner of the couch, and then he sat right down next to him, legs touching.
“I want to make sure you don’t miss anything.”
Then he looked at me. “C’mon over here.”
I moved over in front of Quentin, who spread his knees apart and let his big balls and still half flaccid cock land in the leather couch. I got down on my knees. But then I put my hands on his thighs and pushed up closer to his face.
His co-worker leaned back into the corner as far as he could when I kissed Quentin once on the lips, and then once on the chest, and then once on his hard abs, and then I was back on my knees. Clark sat there with his hands on his knees, looking very uncomfortable with his naked trainee sitting next to him in my living room.
I asked the question I’d wondered since I opened the door:
“How old are you?”
Quentin smiled. “Turned 20 last week.” Hot.
“When is the last time you came?”
“On my birthday, and this fucker has made every day worse.” I turned to Clark.
“When is the last time somebody else touched you?”
We both looked at him but he hesitated. I forgot he had instructions.
“Tell him, and don’t fucking lie,” Quentin ordered.
Clark let out a long, shaky breath.
“Four years.”
“Jesus christ you pathetic fuck.” Quentin was being cruel, but I at least half believed Clark deserved it. “Show him what he’s missing.”
I gently kissed the growing head of Quentin’s cock. It jumped. I looked directly at Clark's face, which looked both sad and upset. His eyes went wide, and his cable company pants tightened around his own growing cock which nobody had touched since before Quentin could drive. My mouth was suddenly full, my tongue pressed up against the warm, smooth, stiffening underside of a young stranger’s bare penis. My nose was buried in a dark blonde forest of pubic hair. I pushed up with my tongue and felt the tight spot under the head of his cock where the shaft met the head. Precum oozed out onto my tongue.
“Fuuuuuck,” Quentin exhaled, abs tightening.
I had never been more turned on. Based on the sudden jolt of the leaking penis throbbing in my mouth, I was pretty sure Quentin felt the same.
To be continued in Part 02…