Bruce57bomb
07-24-2005, 11:29 AM
A couple of years ago I decided to have some work done in my kitchen – fit a new work surface, some new cupboards and some shelves in the pantry off the kitchen.
Not being into DIY, I got a number from the local phone directory for a handyman – made contact with a guy called Mike and arranged for him to come to see what I needed one night after work.
Mike, a muscular stocky guy, arrived, measured up the kitchen and gave me a quote. Mike, who worked alone, asked if I would be available to assist otherwise he would need to pay an assistant that would put up the price. I said OK, provided he could do the work at the weekend. He said that would be fine as it was the summer. He explained that during the winter months he played rugby with a local amateur team. “What position?” I asked. Prop was the reply. We arrange for Mike to come back to do the work.
The day arrived and the weather was hot and sunny. Mike arrived at 8.30 as agreed, with the kitchen fittings. He was wearing a faded blue rugby shirt and a pair of well worn white rugby shorts.
I helped him unload his van and made coffee for us both. He asked whether I had a step-ladder to save bringing his in from the van. I had, so Mike began by stripping out the old fittings. When it came to the wall cupboard, Mike asked if I could support it as he took it of the wall. He climbed the step ladder and began unscrewing the fixings. To get a better purchase on the screws he put his left foot on the top step and leant in towards the cupboard. It was then I noticed the loose cut of his shorts. As I moved in to support the cupboard I was treated to a full view of what appeared to be a particularly well filled jockstrap pouch, protruding from the leg of his shorts. I tried to concentrate on taking the weight of the cupboard, while suddenly fantasising about taking a different weight entirely.
Mike was blissfully unaware of his revelation and continued working. He was also unaware of my growing fascination for what was under those well worn shorts.
As he bent over to pick up a screwdriver I studied closely his full arse cheeks, now moist with perspiration. The shorts were now clinging to his full muscular arse and the outline of his wide, dark butt crack could be seen clearly through the material. Framing his full meaty arse cheeks was the outline of the straps of a jockstrap.
Mike continued to work and I assist, my attention now transfixed on my handyman.
It became time to fit the high shelf in the pantry. The space was small and involved the door being propped back so the step ladder could stand partly in the pantry allowing Mike to reach where the shelf support needed to be fixed. Getting the shelf into the space was not easy. It involved Mike resting his arse against the door frame to angle the wooden shelf through the Pantry door. What Mike didn’t notice was the metal door catch protruding from the door frame. As he lifted the shelf in position his foot slipped off the step and his shorts clad arse slide down the door frame. As the steam of the shorts caught the metal fitting a three inch hole ripped in the back of the shorts.
“Woops!” said Mike, as a nearly stopped breathing! As a caught my breath, I mumbled sometime about it being dangerous. Mike said, “No Matter, they were old anyway” and carried on working, unperturbed that he now had three inches of bare arse on view.
He carried on working with me unable to take my eyes off the rip in his shorts. The work progressed until he needed to look in his tool bag. As he squatted to look in the bag the tension on the material became as intense as I was feeling. There was the sound of ripping and what had been a three inch rip became 6 inches. I let the room to compose myself as it wasn’t just the rip that had grown.
After a bit I returned and Mike was completely unselfconscious that his arse cheeks were on display. We stopped for more coffee and then continued until it was time to fit the new wall cabinet
This again involved Mike climbing the steps and me supporting and holding the cabinet in place while Mike screwed in the fixing.
This time I had a view, at close quarters of the rip and I nearly dropped the cabinet at the sight of his bare arse cheeks, tensing and flexing as he put pressure on the screw driver.
I didn’t have a camera to take a picture of Mike, the Prop in my Pantry but I'm seriously thinking of getting a fitted wardrobe for the bedroom!
Not being into DIY, I got a number from the local phone directory for a handyman – made contact with a guy called Mike and arranged for him to come to see what I needed one night after work.
Mike, a muscular stocky guy, arrived, measured up the kitchen and gave me a quote. Mike, who worked alone, asked if I would be available to assist otherwise he would need to pay an assistant that would put up the price. I said OK, provided he could do the work at the weekend. He said that would be fine as it was the summer. He explained that during the winter months he played rugby with a local amateur team. “What position?” I asked. Prop was the reply. We arrange for Mike to come back to do the work.
The day arrived and the weather was hot and sunny. Mike arrived at 8.30 as agreed, with the kitchen fittings. He was wearing a faded blue rugby shirt and a pair of well worn white rugby shorts.
I helped him unload his van and made coffee for us both. He asked whether I had a step-ladder to save bringing his in from the van. I had, so Mike began by stripping out the old fittings. When it came to the wall cupboard, Mike asked if I could support it as he took it of the wall. He climbed the step ladder and began unscrewing the fixings. To get a better purchase on the screws he put his left foot on the top step and leant in towards the cupboard. It was then I noticed the loose cut of his shorts. As I moved in to support the cupboard I was treated to a full view of what appeared to be a particularly well filled jockstrap pouch, protruding from the leg of his shorts. I tried to concentrate on taking the weight of the cupboard, while suddenly fantasising about taking a different weight entirely.
Mike was blissfully unaware of his revelation and continued working. He was also unaware of my growing fascination for what was under those well worn shorts.
As he bent over to pick up a screwdriver I studied closely his full arse cheeks, now moist with perspiration. The shorts were now clinging to his full muscular arse and the outline of his wide, dark butt crack could be seen clearly through the material. Framing his full meaty arse cheeks was the outline of the straps of a jockstrap.
Mike continued to work and I assist, my attention now transfixed on my handyman.
It became time to fit the high shelf in the pantry. The space was small and involved the door being propped back so the step ladder could stand partly in the pantry allowing Mike to reach where the shelf support needed to be fixed. Getting the shelf into the space was not easy. It involved Mike resting his arse against the door frame to angle the wooden shelf through the Pantry door. What Mike didn’t notice was the metal door catch protruding from the door frame. As he lifted the shelf in position his foot slipped off the step and his shorts clad arse slide down the door frame. As the steam of the shorts caught the metal fitting a three inch hole ripped in the back of the shorts.
“Woops!” said Mike, as a nearly stopped breathing! As a caught my breath, I mumbled sometime about it being dangerous. Mike said, “No Matter, they were old anyway” and carried on working, unperturbed that he now had three inches of bare arse on view.
He carried on working with me unable to take my eyes off the rip in his shorts. The work progressed until he needed to look in his tool bag. As he squatted to look in the bag the tension on the material became as intense as I was feeling. There was the sound of ripping and what had been a three inch rip became 6 inches. I let the room to compose myself as it wasn’t just the rip that had grown.
After a bit I returned and Mike was completely unselfconscious that his arse cheeks were on display. We stopped for more coffee and then continued until it was time to fit the new wall cabinet
This again involved Mike climbing the steps and me supporting and holding the cabinet in place while Mike screwed in the fixing.
This time I had a view, at close quarters of the rip and I nearly dropped the cabinet at the sight of his bare arse cheeks, tensing and flexing as he put pressure on the screw driver.
I didn’t have a camera to take a picture of Mike, the Prop in my Pantry but I'm seriously thinking of getting a fitted wardrobe for the bedroom!