Jaren - Kirk, The Moving Guy

I had just passed my one-year anniversary at a tech company, which was mostly my dream job. I could work from home as often as I wanted, and the pay is top-tier. I spent most of this year making sure my position was secure while squirreling away money for a down payment on a condo. Unlike most of my friends and family, I’m more concerned with time than space, so I was looking at a one-bedroom within walking distance of the office should I have to go in, even though the price within a driving distance would be half.

When I finally closed on a place, I immediately locked in a moving company. I learned the last time I moved that after 25, none of my friends, myself included, were up for the “pizza and beer” payment method to move heavy boxes and furniture for a day. Now I'm 27, so I sprang for the moving company knowing my family would give me shit about being bougie for paying movers. 

When the day came, the moving crew showed up at 11:00 am at my rental apartment to pick up the boxes and furniture. It was a team of four guys and some kind of team manager, who introduced himself as Kirk, adding “no relation,” which I didn’t understand. Just like the guys on his crew, he’s tall, built, and dark-skinned. He has medium-short twisted hair with a recent shape up, and unlike the guys on his crew, he looks clean. Not to say they are dirty, but clearly, they are doing all the heavy lifting, and Kirk is just doing the paperwork and making sure they stick to time.

We walked around the apartment, he counted all the boxes to make sure I didn’t have more than the quote I gave on the phone. Then we talked about the furniture.

“Medium dresser?”

I pointed.

“Captain's bed, with queen-sized mattress?”

I pointed, thinking it was obvious.

“What about that chair?” He pointed at an old chair I’d been hanging onto for years because it belonged to a friend who passed away just after high school.

I shook my head, “No, it’s beyond repair,” I pointed, “the fabric is torn,” I showed him where the black burlap used to wrap around the aluminum frame. “Every time I sit on it, it tears more.”

He nodded, not caring how much it killed me to move on from that chair, or more accurately, that time of my life.

“There’s a coffee table?”

I walked him into the living room, pointing at the coffee table handmade by my old man.

“What about this couch?”

“Nope, getting a new one. There’s a lady coming by to pick this one up tomorrow.”

He nodded, checking the list, “a credenza?”

I pointed at the credenza I made by hand during the pandemic lockdown.

He nodded.

“This is a little fragile, though. I made it myself, and it’s not designed to hold a lot of weight, so please be careful.”

He nodded again, making a note. “And a wine rack?”

I pointed at what was obviously a wine rack.

“Did you make this, too?” He looked at me, interested and not like a robot for the first time.

“Not the guts, but I built the box around it and the legs and stuff to match the credenza,” I shrugged, trying not to take too much pride in my work. I know I’m a tech nerd, but my Dad taught my brothers and me to do woodworking properly and be handy. These were the first wood projects I’ve done in years, and I think they turned out nice. Granted, when I sent the pictures to my dad for his approval, he said, “Looks like white people furniture,” which I laughed at. He’s not wrong; I saw a lot of similar designs online for places like Pottery Barn. It’s fine; I’m gay, I have bigger problems than “white people furniture.”

Unlike Kirk, I’m 5’8”, skinny but fit; I go to the gym and keep my Grindr photos accurate. I’m a little lighter-skinned but still chocolate. My hair is short with a nice fade. I think I’m pretty masc presenting, but as we go around my apartment and look at all of my things, I think Kirk might be starting to put two and two together on his own.

He starts mumbling, counting the boxes I’ve stacked on the side of the living room, “twelve, thirteen,” he looks at me. “It says twenty?”

“There’s four in the kitchen and three in the closet from when I last moved,” I said, embarrassed.

He didn’t say anything, but I saw his lips fighting a smile; his eyes didn’t fight it at all, though. He has really sexy eyes with longer eyelashes. He held his clipboard out for me to sign, and I quickly scribbled my signature.

“Ok, Jaren, they guys will get this all loaded, then meet you at the new address. Will you be letting us in, or is there someone else that will meet us there?”

The way he asked that question seemed loaded. It might also be wishful thinking. I don’t usually mix business with pleasure, and I’m certainly not one to put it out there that I’m into a guy if I don’t already know his sexuality, but I tossed it out there anyway. “Nah, I’m single as fuuuck,” I joked.

He cracked a smile for the first time, and I thought I saw something in his eyes, or maybe there was just a shift in the air, but I swear I felt his guard come down a little, and he definitely looked me up and down. It was quick and pretty subtle, but I was watching for it.

He tore off a pink copy of the paperwork and handed it to me. “We have another stop after we load your stuff into the truck, so you’ll have time to get to the other address, so no rush. I’ll shoot you a text when we’re close.”

He stuck his hand out for me to shake, and I took it, doing my best “straight guy” handshake. His was better. His hands are strong, very strong. Then he walked out, and the guys from the truck came up with all kinds of things like carts and massive rolls of plastic wrap, some moving blankets, and tools to take apart my bed.

It was really impressive how quickly they had everything cleared out. I took some time and cleaned the apartment, knowing it would be a while before they got to the new one. I also grabbed my messenger bag, which is where I packed my sex stuff so the moving guys didn’t see any of it. Also so I didn’t lose it in an unlabeled box. My interaction with Kirk had my hormones in high gear, plus the general stress of the move, it’s not the kind of thing I can shake off with a quick nut by myself. Plus, everyone knows when you hop on the apps in a new location, you’re suddenly hit up by a hundred guys.

I was at my new place by 2:00 pm. I took the Swiffer around to get any dust off the hardwood floors before the furniture came in and covered them forever. 

“I’m close,” was the first text from Kirk. The words I’ve heard from many guys before, almost like Pavlov’s Dog, it made my mouth water and my dick start to chub. I started typing a response, but he sent a follow-up before I could hit send. “We’ll be there in ten minutes. I need the building manager to sign some paperwork. Are they around?”

I deleted what I was writing and followed up with, “Yeah, I saw him working on something when I got here, I’ll flag him and let him know you need him.”

“Great, be there in 10.”

They showed up, and the building manager signed his forms, and then I gave Kirk the tour.

“Over there is where the boxes can go, even the ones labeled bedroom. I'll unpack them as I go. The wine rack here, the credenza there.” Then I kept walking down the hall, “This is the bedroom,” I felt a heat as Kirk stood close to me in the doorway. I could smell his cologne and a hint of musk that made my ass twitch. “The bed over there, the dresser there. Can you make sure the throw rug goes down before the bed gets put together? It’s heavy, and I will never get the rug underneath by myself if you don’t.”

He chuckled, “Yeah, that’s no problem.”

He went down and started organizing the guys. They were quick and efficient. Once everything was moved in, two of the guys took all of the moving supplies down to their truck, and the other two guys took time in the bedroom to put my bed together. Leaving me and Kirk to talk in the living room.”

“This is nice,” he broke the silence.

“Yeah, and in 300 more payments, it’s all mine,” I shrugged nonchalantly.

He tossed me that sexy smile, then licked his lips, “It’s a great area, too.”

“Yeah, I work six blocks from here, so that was a big selling point. I also like that it’s a corner unit; look at all the sunlight,” I pointed towards the windows.

He nodded, “going to need some curtains. People are going to see right in here at night.”

“I’ve got nothing to hide,” I joked.

“Bet,” he said, leaning against the kitchen peninsula counter.

“If they want to look, let them look,” I doubled down.

His hand dropped down to his belt, “that’s what’s up. If you got it…flaunt it, right?”

Wait, is he flirting? I looked him up and down. His body language has definitely changed since this morning. I leaned on the peninsula next to him, making sure to be just inside that safe zone where it is questionable if I’m unaware or if I’m deliberately getting into his space. “Oh, I’ve got it,” I said.

He nodded, looked me up and down again, wet his lips, “That’s what’s up,” he almost whispered. He stared into my eyes, that unmistakable draw in the air. He was making his move, and then we heard the boots of the guys coming out of the bedroom. Kirk's body language changed so quickly that it was jarring, forcing me to take a step back as he grabbed his clipboard.

“Bed is set, I think that’s it,” one of the guys said, fist-bumping Kirk.

“Great,” Kirk swallowed, and his voice got deeper, “Let’s make sure it meets your approval, and you can sign off so we can get on our way,” he said as the two guys grabbed their tools and headed out the door to the elevator.

I walked to the bedroom, unsure what my next move was. I definitely felt a connection with Kirk, but it’s clear he’s not out, at least not at work, maybe not even to himself. He stood right behind me. I could feel the heat of his body radiating onto mine. It doesn’t help that it’s 80 degrees outside, and the windows are all open.

“Is it to your satisfaction?” He broke the silence.

My heart was pounding, I went and flopped backward on the bare mattress, stretching out so my shirt rode up and my abs were on full display. “Mmmm,” I moaned from my cat-like stretch, but also purposefully sexually, “I can’t wait to get a good night's sleep tonight.”

He chuckled, “Good, I just need you to sign this,” he walked over to the bed so he was almost close enough to be between my legs, but like a professional, he resisted. I know he feels this sexual tension between us. I just don’t think I can make it any more obvious that I want him without coming right out and saying it. I sat up, putting myself at eye level with his crotch in his work pants, the bulge prominent, I’ll bet he’s packing. I shook my head, grabbed his clipboard, and squiggled my signature. “Alright, if that’s all,” he said, tapping the edge of the clipboard to the palm of his hand.

I looked up at him and grinned, “Well, do you offer any other services I should know about?” I leaned back on my elbows, putting one knee up as my heel rested on the edge of the bed.

He grinned, slowly shaking his head at me, “You’re not as subtle as you think you are,” he crossed his arms.

Feeling bold, “I’m not trying to be subtle.”

He shook his head again, then his hand instinctively rubbed his crotch, “I have to get back to the truck.” He looked over his shoulder at the open bedroom door.

“If you must, but you should take a break,” I reached out, trying to keep my hand from shaking, and grabbed his thick black woven belt, being sure to tug just enough that he could cave and fall on top of me or the slightest resistance and he could right himself. He resisted.

“You’re trouble,” he said in a husky voice. Then, he put his hand on mine, a tingle rushing through my body from his touch. I let my other hand come up and start to rub his crotch, tracing the outline of his growing dick in his pants. “Mmm…” he let out the subtlest moan as his dick twitched under my touch. “I really gotta go,” he said.

I nodded but didn’t stop touching him, and he didn’t stop me. My left hand went for his zipper, tugging it halfway down before he grabbed my hand to stop me. My eyes shot up to his. His were suddenly hard to read. He looked back at the door, then down at me, then his fingers quickly undid his belt and button on his pants, pulling his boxer briefs down enough to hoist his semi-hard cock and balls out. It was at least six inches and growing, thickening as he gave himself a few strokes with his right hand. The smell of his manly crotch wafted into my nose like an aphrodisiac. His left hand quickly grabbed the back of my head and pulled me to his cock.

I grabbed him with my right hand, giving his hefty shaft a few strokes before putting my years of oral skills to work. I’ve been sucking dick since I was 13, and I’ve sucked many dicks that looked just like Kirks, so I feel like I have an advantage here. He tasted a little salty from a day of work; his precum started oozing into my mouth and tasted sweet as he pulled me deeper onto him. I have no gag reflex, so I took him right into my throat as soon as I had worked up enough saliva to coat his now 8” shaft.

“Fuuuck, that’s it, suck that dick,” he mumbled, holding his polo shirt and undershirt up under his chin. His abs flexed as he rocked his hips to get deeper into my throat. He rubbed both hands on my head, massaging my scalp and the top of my neck as he cut off my oxygen with his cock. “Damn…dat feels good,” He clenched his ass cheeks with each thrust. I thought he was getting close, but he got distracted by the third vibration of his phone in his pocket. “Fuck,” he fished his phone out of his pocket, then said, “Be down in a minute, fixing paperwork,” then put the phone in his pocket. “Bruh, I can’t go back like this,” he pointed at his hard dick. “Let me get in dat ass real quick so I can nut,” he pushed his pants and boxer-briefs further down his thighs, stroking his cock.

I was nervous but feeling confident. “One sec,” I said, barrel rolling off the bed and running to the living room to get my saddle bag, then running back down the hall. I pulled my shorts and trunks down to my ankles, stroking my cock, I pulled a bottle of lube out of the bag, squirting some in my hand, and started fingering my ass as I handed Kirk the bottle. Then I dug out a Magnum from the bag and some poppers, took a quick hit, handed him the condom, and took another deep hit before bending over the bed.

The rush of the poppers washed over me as I stroked my dick, and he suited up, lubing the condom, and then he was poking the tip into my hole. I’m vers, more often bottom, though, so I’m not unprepared for his big dick, but God damn, I’m not ready for it to push in so quickly. The head breaches my outer hole with a sting, and I groan. “Fuuuuck, hold on,” I pushed his thighs to signal him to wait for the sting to subside like it always does. He only gives me about ten seconds, but then he starts rocking his hips, trying to get some inches into me. “Ungh…shiit nig…ahH, fuck man, take it easy,” I groan as he shoves half his cock into me.

I was about to give him another warning when I felt his phone buzz in his pocket against the back of my leg. He ignored it and pushed another inch into me, running his hands up my shirt to feel my back and down to my trim waist. “Open up for me, let me get in this ass,” he whispered, rocking his hips with a gentle but firm thrust. He groans as he sinks his last two inches into me. I keep a firm grip on his thighs while I bury my face into the fabric of the mattress.

He slowly pulls out, then quickly pushes in, getting a yelp from me. He holds my hips tight and repeats. “Fuck you’re tight,” he hunched his thighs to dig his dick into me, thankfully pegging my prostate as it reached deeper toward my second ring.

“Fuck that feels good,” I groaned and took another hit of the poppers. His phone vibrated again in his pocket, this time, it wasn’t a text but someone calling because it kept vibrating in a pattern.

He picked up the pace, “I gotta nut quick,” he mumbled, hunching up harder into me, this time pegging my inner ring, almost breaking through.

I gave up on my dick and reached below my balls to stroke his balls. I know he’s crunched for time, and I want to help him bust. “Oh fuck that feels so good,” I moaned as he thrust into me.

He pulled out quickly, “I’ma take this off,” he said as I heard the sound of him yanking the rubber off with a snap. Before I could say anything, he spit on his dick and thrust back into me.

“Oh, fuck,” I groaned as he pushed deeper.

“Mmm, that’s better,” he moaned as he slowly hunched his cock deep into my ass, this time piercing my inner ring, and I groaned like a bitch. “Oh yeah,” he did it again, “that feels real good,” he mumbled, holding tight to my hips.

I arched my back a little more, letting him get even deeper.

“I’m close, where do you want it?” He kept digging deep.

“Mmm, on my back,” I mumbled.

“Ungh, too late,” he gripped me tight, and I felt his cock throbbing inside me, that familiar warmth of balls draining inside me and soothing my anal walls. “Fuuuck,” he panted, pulling out an inch and then pulling me back down his shaft that remaining inch as he continued to unload into my guts.

The door buzzer went off, blasting through the nearly empty apartment so loud we both jumped.

“Fuck,” He pulled out too quickly.

I waddled down the hall with my clothes, shackling my ankles to hit the buzzer, “Yeah?”

“Is Kirk still up there?” One of the guys said.

I looked over at Kirk, tucking his spent cock back into his boxer-briefs and quickly yanking up his pants. I pushed the talk button, “He’s on his way down; you should see him in a minute.” I hit the listen button.

“Ok thanks,” I heard the disgruntled voice say.

Kirk was tucking his shirt back in as he hurried over to me, pushed me against the wall, and kissed me in a way that almost made me cum. “That was hot,” he broke the kiss. Grabbed my ass cheeks and leaned in for another, his wide tongue tasting my mouth before pulling off again, “I got your number, I’ll hit you up.”

Then, just that quick, he was rushing out the unlocked door.

I took a breath and sighed out a “fuck,” as I wrapped my head around what just happened. Leaning over to pull my drawls up high enough to make it to the bathroom where, of course, there was no tissue paper. I shook my head, kicked off my clothes, walked back to lock the door then found the box with the towels so I could go take a shower and wash the lube and nut off my ass.

Later that night I got a text from a number I don’t have in my phone.

“This is Kirk, my personal phone, in case you want to reach out. 🍆💦”

I smiled, I’ll definitely be reaching out. “For sure, but next time you keep the condom on, I only bareback with boyfriends. 😉”