Lustful Temptation: Seduced by a stranger outdoors

Have you ever been tempted by a stranger?

Have you ever been tempted by a stranger?

Nathan is minding his own business planting a hedge in a customer's yard. Evidently, the owner of the property has other ideas.

Nathan's boss takes off for lunch, leaving Nathan on his own. An offered glass of lemonade by the owner turns into so much more.

The temptation of what's on offer proves too much for Nathan. Even though rain starts to fall, nothing is going to deter the lust that has grown between the two.

Nathan will be planting much more than a hedge this afternoon.

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The Pacific Northwest, it was my home. Where I was born and raised. I had been to other cities across the states, but none compared to our slice of paradise. My modest, little house sat six blocks from the ocean on an island in the San Juan archipelago—Whidbey Island to be exact.

I couldn't imagine living anywhere else.

I hefted the pyramidal cedar into the trench I had dug. I only had ten more to go to complete the hedge I was working on. They were six-footers. Back-breaking work in the heat.

It was the height of summer, and the island was giving off a Mediterranean vibe. I had been working as a landscaper since spring; my previous experience consisting of helping my mom in the yard for most of my life. I knew my local plants and what they needed to thrive.

My boss strode toward me.

"How long until you finish that, Nathan?"

"Another hour should do it."

"Good … good. I have some rhodos I need you to look at. The varieties got mixed up by the delivery driver. I need you to group them back together."

Not my favorite task; examining plants to find similarities. If I screwed up, we would know next spring when the blooms came out. The colors wouldn't match.

I stripped off my shirt and set back to work on the hedge. If anything, it was a chance to prove myself. My boss had taken a chance on me; hiring me without relevant work experience. My previous stint had been in construction but there wasn't much call for it at my end of the island.

I had needed a change anyway. After years of hammering away, the building trade had lost its appeal. As long as my work took me outside, I was happy.

The cedars evenly spaced, I pulled off my gloves and reached for my water bottle. Next came shoveling the soil back around their root balls with an added mix of manure and peat to ensure they would take off. I put my gloves back on and reached for my shovel.

In my periphery, a figure appeared, dressed in a long, white housecoat. He appeared to be watching me. Probably the owner of the house we were working at. At some point during every landscaping job, the owner popped their head out and spewed out a list of suggestions. I had no say in what I was doing. The plans had been approved by the owner before we started our work. If they wanted to change anything, they would have to go through my boss.

I ignored the way he was staring at me.

"Can I get you a drink?"

The owner was at my elbow. Any closer and he would have gotten a mouthful of it as I dug into the soil. I jammed my shovel into the soil. "I have water."

"I have lemonade in the house."

I wiped the back of my hand across my forehead. That did sound nice. I looked around. My boss had taken off in his truck, leaving me on my own. He always took an hour for lunch. I had time. In addition to the lemonade, I could dig into the sandwich I had brought with me.

The owner reached out his hand. "Graham."

My rough hand slipped into his smooth one. Even his nails were manicured.

"Nathan."

Graham waved me toward the house. "Take a seat on the patio. I'll bring it out."

I grabbed my shirt and pulled it back on and headed for the patio area. I found a wicker loveseat with cushions that wouldn't suffer too badly if my jeans were dirty. I relaxed into it, then rolled my eyes, annoyed with myself. I had forgotten my lunch in my truck.

Before I had a chance to get up and retrieve it, Graham arrived on the patio carrying a wooden tray with a frosty pitcher of lemonade and two glasses with ice. He set it on the table.

His gaze wandered over me. "You didn't have to do that … put your shirt back on."

I furrowed my brow, not sure if I had just been fed a pickup line. Graham was attractive in a middle-aged kind of way. In his youth, he would have been stunning. He could likely still pull whoever he wanted if he put his mind to it. And that appeared to be what he was doing.

His attention warmed me. It had been a while since someone had looked at me that way. I studied his eyes. Hunger—that's what it was—intense hunger.

I shifted in my seat, my cock taking notice as Graham sat beside me; his bare legs peeking out from the folds of his housecoat. They were covered in glorious dark hair. I had a thing for hairy guys. The furrier, the better. My gaze tracked to his chest where his housecoat fell open; the breach stretching from his throat to his belly, more hair covering his skin.

Graham leaned forward and poured lemonade into both glasses. I sucked in a breath. Either he was wearing a speedo beneath that housecoat, or he was nude. I must have drooling because Graham undid the tie of his housecoat and allowed it open. It fanned out on the cushions.

Naked—the answer was naked.

I took a sip of the lemonade, my gaze flitting back and forth between my glass and his cock. He crossed his legs, raising his cock and balls to rest on his thighs.

He reached out and touched my knee. "No need to panic."

I swallowed—hard. I hadn't realized I looked anxious. I set my glass on the table and placed my hand on his. It was still resting on my knee. "No … I'm fine."

"Fine … fine, or fine … interested?"

I hauled my phone out of my back pocket. Only ten minutes had passed. It would be a while until my boss returned. I flipped my phone onto the table.

I swept my hand up to his thigh and ran my fingers across his balls, then cupped them, using my thumb to stroke his shaft. I looked up into his eyes.

"Interested."

"Let's get that shirt back off you," he whispered.

He didn't have to ask me twice. It was disposed of without a second thought, flung to the grass off the edge of the patio. I was immediately on his lips. He tasted of lemonade and coffee. He moaned against my lips, taking gentle swipes across my tongue with his.

His hands swept into my hair, and he released my mouth.

"Such a beautiful boy." Graham held my face and gazed into my eyes. It had been a while since anyone had called me a boy. At twenty-four, I was far from it. But I was too far gone to argue. My cock was pressed fiercely against my zipper, aching to be released.

Graham caressed my shoulders then ran his hands onto my waist, all the while watching me as if I might object at some point. I reached down and unlatched my buckle, and unzipped my button, and fly. My hand found its way behind the fabric of my briefs, taking a firm grasp of my cock. Graham slipped off the loveseat onto his knees and peeled the front of my jeans open wider.

He tugged my briefs away and lowered his face into my lap. I gripped the back of his head and looked up toward the sky, my shaft being devoured by his mouth.

He moaned as he worked, his head bobbing up and down on my cock, slicking it up, running his tongue along my shaft—sucking my cockhead. His tongue played with my slit, licking it clean. I shifted my feet to open my legs wider and leaned back, shifting my ass forward on the cushion, each tug on my cock escalating me higher. I ran my hand through his hair.

Still sucking on my cock, Graham removed his housecoat from his shoulders. He pulled one arm out of his sleeve. Then the other. His hand gripped my cock, pulling my skin tight to my body as he tortured my slit and cockhead with the tip of his tongue.

I had finally had enough. I was going to cum if he kept that up. I placed my hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him away. The housecoat slid free of his body as he rose to his feet.

A light mist of rain began to fall. I looked around the yard. It was as private as one might expect of a suburban home. Graham didn't appear concerned.

He kneeled on the loveseat and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the back of it, his ass exposed. All wonderfully furry. I brushed the hair away from his hole and sunk to my knees. There were few things I enjoyed more than eating some guy's ass out. I swirled my tongue through the hair, wetting it, then circled the rim, reveling in all the little groves. I touched the opening and Graham lurched forward, groaning. I dug deeper, attempting to lick his insides.

Each plunge of my tongue hardened my cock further until the tension and throbbing became distracting. I fumbled for my wallet in the back pocket of my jeans. I always kept a condom and a small packet of lube in there—in case of emergencies.

Such as this.

I ripped the purple packet with my teeth and rolled the condom onto my cock. Graham was looking over his shoulder at me; his eyes pleading with me to hurry.

I spread some lube over my cock and around his hole, dipping my forefinger in a few times to make sure I wouldn't hurt him. I rose to my feet and my pants fell around my ankles. The rain was cool but refreshing on my skin. There were patterns of it on Graham's back. Little dots like someone had spit on him—repeatedly. My cock pulsed at the thought.

Graham parted his legs wide. I sidled up behind him, angling my hips. I pressed my cock to his hole, circling it with my cockhead. Poking—prodding. Waiting for an invitation.

"Please …" Graham whimpered.

I smiled and slid my bulbous cockhead in past his rim; the thick ridge slipping past his ring of muscle. Graham gasped and cried out. I was big. I knew that. Now Graham knew it too.

My thick shaft followed, slowly stretching Graham's flesh. The warm, velvety glove of his ass closed around me. I had to close my eyes and concentrate to distract myself, the constriction threatening to make me climax. I wanted to give Graham the ride of his life.

I grasped hold of his hips, easing all the way in. My pubes closed against his furry ass. I brushed my thumbs through the hair as I hung on. Then I receded, drawing my cock almost free from his hole. I rocked back into him. Graham groaned, his breath increasing in ferocity.

The rain began to fall harder, splattering droplets on our skin. Trickles of wet ran through my hair and down my cheeks, dripping off the bottom of my chin. Dismissing it, I slammed into Graham harder. He lurched forward, gripping the back of the loveseat.

He held steady as each thrust of my hips battered his hole. Again—and again, until he was crying my name. Switching it up, I pulled all the way out, his hole popping open, anxious to be filled again. I ran my thumb inside his hole, elated with the effect I'd had on him.

I pressed my cock back inside, stroking his insides, heating his flesh—jolting his guts into submission. Knowing he couldn't let go of the loveseat, I took his cock in my fist and pumped him. What started out soft was soon hard, weeping. The rain continued to fall.

"Beautiful boy." The words were on Graham's lips, repeatedly, his tension building.

His ass clenched down hard on my cock and Graham spilled his cum into my hand, coating my knuckles. I milked him dry then brought my hand to my mouth and licked it clean. Graham's cum was salty and musky. I sucked on my fingers to make sure I ingested it all.

I didn't like to waste.

I had Graham turn to kneel sideways on the bench and changed my angle by placing one foot on the loveseat behind him. Bending my supporting knee, I drilled higher into his body, thundering out a deep and frantic rhythm. I gripped tighter to his hips, hauling him toward me each time my hips crashed against his ass. The thwack—thwack of our wet skin echoed throughout the yard. I grunted and clung on, cresting deep within him, each stream of cum that filled that condom threatening to rip through it. I jammed higher and higher, fulfilling my lust for this stranger.

Sated, my body calmed, my heartbeat slowing. I disposed of the condom, handing it to Graham, and yanked up my pants, tucking everything back behind the fly. Graham seemed pleased with his gift. He tucked it in his pocket once he put his housecoat back on.

I retrieved my shirt from the lawn. It was soaked but I yanked it back on anyway. My boss would be back soon. I wandered over to the patio and drank my lemonade. Just as I was setting the glass down, I could hear my boss's truck pull into the gravel driveway.

I smiled at Graham. "Thanks for the lemonade."

Graham winked at me. "Any time."

"Nathan … what on earth are you doing?" My boss marched toward me. "Didn't you notice it was raining? Why didn't you wait it out in your truck?"

I shrugged. "Preoccupied, I guess."

My boss shook his head and went to inspect my hedge. When I turned around, Graham was gone. My stomach grumbled. Lunch. I had forgotten all about it.

That's what happens when you follow through on lustful temptation.

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LUSTFUL TEMPTATION; Copyright © 2021 by Gavin E. Black (Leigh Jarrett)

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