Besides, I’m way too old to be climbing ladders and fooling about with sharp implements.Not that he was young; probably mid to late 40s, his face and taut body indicative of a life lived well but hard. Gay sex I’d caught him one day when I was mucking around in there and had spied him through the Venetian blinds on the back window, happily invisible to him whilst he was on full display to me. I’d noticed him downing his clippers and removing his gloves, throwing them carelessly onto the lawn before undoing the cord on his pants and pushing them down to his knees, revealing a very beautiful cock and heavy smooth balls (did he shave them I wondered, and if so for whom?), all framed within an extraordinarily thick dark bush. He was bit of a scruff-bag really, in a hippyish sort of way (which is just the way I like my scruff-bags); dreadlocks down to his shoulders ( I could almost feel them brushing against my face), ring through one nostril (what would it feel like on my tongue), short scraggly beard (so nice against my balls), loose green singlet draped over his thin body (I could lose myself in those hairy armpits), baggy harem pants (don’t ask!).He smelt good too,
