Logan's Project

LOGAN’S PROJECT
By Chris Owen
(From “Bend Over, Big Boy” edited by Kit Zheng. Top Shelf.2008)

The warehouse didn't look any different from the outside, but it wasn't really supposed to. All the work being done was internal, the rustic look of the warehouse being a prime draw in eventually attracting tenants. Logan's goal was to fill the newly refitted space with an interesting mix of people not unlike himself. He was hoping to turn the neighborhood into a trendy spot for the up and coming to live by reclaiming and refurbishing the buildings. With luck, the area would get an injection of desirable people, and the hookers and drug dealers would move a few more blocks west.

Mostly, though, Logan was hoping he'd actually turn a profit. That was part of the reason why he was at the building after hours, keeping an eye on the renovations, making sure the work was getting done on time and mostly within budget.

That, and to keep an eye on the demolition man.

Though he was no contractor — he had people for that — he could see things were going on schedule. He knew that the upper floor was almost ready for roughing in. But because the lower floor still needed some demolition done, things were mostly on pause until that was complete and the dust could be kept to a minimum.

Logan liked his building. He got hard just walking in and seeing the interior change. It was his dream and it was coming true. He didn't care that it was happening through someone else's sweat and labor — he was doing his part. He'd never really been one for physical work, but he could plan, he could pay bills and he could claim it as his own. Hell, his name was going to be on the sign and that made it his.

The sign wasn't up yet, and the parking lot was almost empty, the deep shadows of the city block weighing down where the street lamps didn't reach. He'd have to get after the city council for better lighting before he started renting space. Logan picked his way to the big doors, pleased to see that whoever was still working had obeyed orders to keep the site locked up and the drive clear for emergency vehicles.

Logan let himself into the warehouse and closed the heavy door behind him, then listened for the scattering of rats. He didn't hear it this time and he smiled. Maybe they'd finally gotten that under control. He sure as hell hoped so.

"Toby?" Logan called, walking down a makeshift corridor toward the back of the first level. He could hear heavy, rhythmic thumping from down there and could see the flood lights shining, a halo of dust making the whole back end look like a shining cloud. The entire interior was still one massive loft space, support beams all over the place and open duct work to the upper floor. He could see enough not to trip, but not who was working. "Toby?" he called for the contractor again, louder.

The thumping stopped and Logan could hear dirt and cinder dust settling on the floor, chunks of the wall clattering down. "Mr. Logan?" a voice called back. "Don't come down here without a mask, sir."

"Right." Logan veered, heading to the left and toward the table where he knew the masks were kept. It wasn't his contractor down there, it was the demolition man. Or, as Logan had taken to thinking about him, Mr. Big.

Very big — all over and just as tight and toned as any wet dream. Mr. Big had been a marine if his tattoos were telling the truth, and he had the biggest arms Logan had ever seen. He was all brawn, all sweaty and dirty and utterly, perfectly glorious. He was also polite and cool and wouldn't give Logan the time of day unless he was answering a direct question and couldn't escape before Logan had asked it.

Mask on, Logan grabbed two bottles of water from the tub and went down to the dust cloud to see what Mr. Big was working on. "Thirsty?" he said by way of greeting, passing a bottle into one big hand.

"Thanks." The demolition man didn't say anything else for a long moment and he didn't open the bottle. He stood for almost a minute, water in one hand and a heavy mallet in the other, his overalls completely covered in concrete dust. "Uh, everyone else is gone for the day, sir. You might want to come back tomorrow." His voice was slightly indistinct through the mask. He had thick canvas gloves on, his hat and boots and everything else made gray by the fine powder.

"No, this is fine, thanks." Logan smiled at him and moved into the area Mr. Big was opening up. "There weren't any surprises in here?"

"No, sir. The plans were good ones, and the walls are coming down pretty easy." Mr. Big moved around behind Logan, his boots scraping on the cement floor, dragging through the rubble. "The building is sound. I'll be tearing down here for another day or so."

Logan nodded to himself and took another long look around at the crumbled walls, hazy through the dust. "Take a minute," he said, turning to face the demolition man. "Give your mask a break and breathe a bit." Sweat was trickling down the side of Mr. Big's face, leaving streaks that Logan wanted to lick away. He wanted to taste the salty grit, wanted to have the flavor of his building.

Mr. Big looked around uncertainly. "Not good to breathe in here."

Logan nodded and wondered if he could maybe get Mr. Big to slip more than just the mask off. "Come with me," he invited. "Have you done much work upstairs?"

Mr. Big followed after pausing for a moment to set his mallet down. "Not work, no, but I've been up there. Helping out, moving equipment."

Logan nodded and started walking, resisting the urge to wave a hand through the air to clear a path. "Come see. I'll tell you my plan. Maybe there's less crap in the air up there on the other end."

"You're going to ruin your suit, sir."

"I'll buy another one." Logan led the way to the far end and into the cargo elevator. "I'm going to have three iron staircases built," he said, pointing. "Here, the far end, and there, over to the left. Big and wide, when that side is cut into for the windows."

Mr. Big looked thoughtful. "Western exposure?"

"Northwest. Be nice in the late day and won't get too hot in the summer. Anti-glare glass." He watched Mr. Big pull the grate closed and hit the button to take the elevator up, almost drooling when the man's arms flexed. "The units will be staggered, front and back, the hallways running like a snake all the way down the building. Big units, the two on the end being huge and taking both floors." God, it was going to be gorgeous. Prime real estate and all he'd been dreaming of for months and months.

"Nice." Mr. Big finally took off his mask, his hand tugging it up and off and taking his ball cap off with it. "Shit, sorry," he said as the cap landed on Logan's shoes, the gray dust that came off ruining what was left of the shine. He bent down to retrieve it and paused.

"It's all right, I don't mind " Logan looked down at him. He knew he was caught and he knew his cock, ever the most adventurous part of him, had just given a leap. In for a dime, in for a dollar, Logan smiled. "I don't mind at all."

"Yeah, I can tell." Mr. Big was looking right at Logan's crotch. "Dust does it for you?" He looked up at Logan, his face dirty, his eyes questioning.

Logan took a moment to be relieved that the big man wasn't pissed and angry. "Not really. Well, maybe. The building does, the way you're covered in it, the thought of you pulling down walls and getting all . . . yeah." Logan shrugged.

The elevator lurched to a halt and Logan grabbed the grate to keep from falling into Mr. Big. It would really suck to wind up rubbing his cock on the guy's face and then get pounded for it. Best to wait until he knew which way Mr. Big was going to go.

Mr. Big didn't say anything at all, just waited until Logan got his balance again and then pulled himself up by the grate, opening it up in the same motion. He didn't say anything as he followed Logan out onto the loft and then to the safety rail to look down onto the main floor.

"There's your dust," Logan said, pointing to the cloud still glowing in the flood lights.

"It's your dust," Mr. Big said, holding onto the railing. "Your building — your dust; I just wear it." 

Logan felt his mouth twist into a crooked smile. "You wear it well."

"Know why I wear coveralls with long sleeves when I'm knocking down walls?"

"So you don't slice your arms to shit when the cement blocks fall apart? I mean, I saw that movie, Ghost. I know how hot it looked when they were breaking that wall down, but come on. They would have been totally fucked up if they'd really done it like that, all uncovered and unprotected. "

Mr. Big stared at him and then started to laugh. It was a big, full belly laugh that echoed through the entire space. "That's . . . God!"

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

"You stand in front of me, almost poking my eye out with your prick, and then you don't even let me make with the bad pick-up lines about being covered in dust and the places it creeps into?" Mr. Big was grinning at him, suddenly looking even hotter than he had when he was being all deferential and calling Logan "Sir."

"I . . ." Logan looked at him and then looked around the empty warehouse. "Want to fuck?" 

Mr. Big grinned at him. "No."

Oh, ouch. "You confuse me," Logan said, tilting his head and looking up at him.

"I wasn't kidding about where the dust gets. I'm not doing any fucking until I've had a shower. But you can blow me."

Logan's eyebrows shot up. "How about the other way around?" As soon as the words were out he wanted to kick himself. Did it really matter?

Mr. Big looked amused. "You think?" He stepped back and spread his arms wide, then turned in a circle. "Do I look like the kind of guy who'd get on his knees to suck off the boss?"

"Do you seriously expect me to answer that?" But Logan was smiling, his whole body going tight and tense.

Backing up another step, Mr. Big motioned with his hands. "Come away from the rail, sir. Not even sex with a suit is worth the medical bills if we fall."

Logan snorted and moved slowly, taking long strides deeper into the building, into the shadows. "You have a thing for suits?"

"Hell, yes." Mr. Big was pretty emphatic about it, looking him up and down. "Be better if you weren't dusty, but you'll do."

"I'll do?" Logan stopped walking and carefully put his water bottle down. His fingers itched to curl around his cock, ready to tug it out and feed it to the demolition man.

Mr. Big's smile was feral as they started circling each other. "You'll do. You want it. You want it all — me, the building, the dirt and grime." He opened his coveralls as he moved and tugged his arms free. Underneath the heavy cotton, he was wearing a white wife-beater, now streaked and stained from a day's worth of sweat and dust.

Logan watched him and made no move at all to even loosen his tie. 

"And you think it would be better if it's me on my knees. We seem to be at a stalemate." The tense and tight feeling was starting burn all along Logan's spine. His balls ached and he could feel his cock start to drool against the silk of his boxers.

"No stalemate." Mr. Big's teeth flashed white as he stepped through a shaft of light. "We know there's gonna be fucking. We're just negotiating for position now."

"Well, at least we're on the same page." Logan turned, watching the large body shine as his wife-beater was peeled off. The dirt had compacted into trails wherever sweat had run, making muscle definition that much sharper. "I'll allow that my suit is likely going to be ruined. But I want you down for me."

"What's in it for me?"

Logan undid his trousers and pointed. "Check it out."

"You've got to be kidding me." Mr. Big rolled his eyes. "I'm profoundly disappointed in you. You think you've got something I haven't been offered before?"

"Check it out," Logan repeated patiently. "Maybe you have, maybe you haven't." He decided to help out a bit, maybe put his money where he wanted Mr. Big's mouth. Shifting his weight, Logan got his cock out and turned slightly. He saw Mr. Big's eyes widen when the metal caught the light. "Come see."

Mr. Big looked almost mesmerized as he came closer. "How many?"

Logan waited, smiling to himself. He wished he had a handy table to lean back on; his legs weren't going to hold him for long once Mr. Big started sucking him off. "Six," he said as Mr. Big crouched down in front of him "And five rings through my perineum."

"God!" Mr. Big touched him, his fingers gently tracing each barbell of the ladder up Logan's cock. "Hurt?"

"Not anymore." Logan laughed then moaned as Mr. Big touched him again, going back down. "Feels fucking amazing, really. Think about it, imagine the way it'll feel inside you."

"Oh, I am." Mr. Big was murmuring, almost whispering against him "Okay. Yeah. For this, I'll play. As long as you're a Boy Scout, anyway. I'm at work, you know? I didn't plan on getting laid."

"I didn't either, but I had dreams." Logan reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, pleased that his hands weren't shaking, and produced a strip of condoms. He hadn't been a Boy Scout and he certainly hadn't planned on getting his rocks off, but he'd take it. Or give it. Something. It was hard to think, what with Mr. Big on his knees, his hot breath dancing over Logan's cock.

Mr. Big looked up at him "You want me to suck it?" His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip and Logan was pretty sure it had been unintentional. Mr. Big's knees were splayed out, his coveralls hanging off his hips, and Logan suddenly realized it was hot up on the loft. Mr. Big was sweating, beads trickling down the side of his face, and Logan's shirt was stuck to his back.

"Yeah," Logan said with a nod. "Suck it. Don't make me come, though. I want to come in your ass."

"That's entirely up to you." Mr. Big licked over the head of Logan's cock and tongued his Prince Albert. "Whether you come or not, I mean."

"Oh, God." Logan braced himself as every muscle in his body jumped. His ass clenched and he thrust forward instinctively before he could lock his knees. "Stop talking." He dropped a hand to Mr. Big's shoulder and held on, squeezing the thick muscle and feeling sweat under his palm, slippery and hot.

Mr. Big, former Marine and current demolition man, could take orders. He stopped talking and got to work, licking around each and every barbell before going down on Logan's cock with enough enthusiasm that Logan had to dig in and get stubborn. He would not blow his load down his throat when he could have this man's ass.

In the warehouse.

Covered in dust.

On all fours, coveralls around his knees, grunting and pushing back when Logan fucked him, Logan gasped and pulled away, his cock dragging out of Mr. Big's mouth with an obscene sucking noise. "Jesus fucking Christ." He knew his eyes had to be huge, and the shake that had started in his knees had finally made its way up to his hands.

"Aw, come on, sir." Mr. Big looked up at him and grinned, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Let me suck your cock. Won't get anything on your suit, I swear. I'll take it all down."

Logan nodded and reached down to tug at his balls. His shirt was in the way and he had to lift it, one hand flat on his belly to keep it up. "Lick me," he ordered. "Nice and slow. I want to feel it, but I'm going to come in your ass."

Mr. Big made a noise that Logan was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to hear. When he started licking, though, Mr. Big moaned and panted and gave Logan's balls a tongue bath that redoubled the shaking in Logan's legs. Then his fingers started playing with the rings between Logan's balls and his asshole.

"Fuck, yes," Logan said, grabbing onto Mr. Big again. "Do it." There was fire in the pit of his belly and he could see the pre-come leaking out and sliding down the side of his cock. When Mr. Big took him in his mouth again, fingers tugging at metal and mouth wide open, Logan started to thrust.

He would have come like that, despite his best intentions, except Mr. Big moved. His weight shifted, just enough to make the blow job slightly less perfect, and Logan realized he was shoving his coveralls down.

Logan snarled and pulled away again. "Over," he barked, getting another thrill when his voice echoed through the space. The echo came back, bringing with it the highlights of sound and underlining them — the sounds of cloth and latex and panting and wet, sucking kisses and the sounds of dirt and sand under their shoes, the mad scramble for balance and position.

His trousers were totally wrecked, he knew it. But he was behind the mountain, fingering Mr. Big open and licking all around his hot, tight asshole in a poor excuse for lube, so he didn't care. He couldn't bring himself to give a flying fuck about his suit, not when he was going to make the demolition man beg for it.

It was what he wanted. What they both wanted. His building. His suit. His demolition man.

"Fuck me. Please."

His fucking life.

With a laugh of triumph and delight, Logan surged forward and thrust it in, deep and hard. Mr. Big's muscled ass was tight, so fucking tight it was like plunging into a wet dream. They both yelled, both of them grunting and swearing and their voices came back to them like the building felt it, too.

"Hang on," Logan told him, pulling out and letting him feel every bit of jewelry he had.

"I can't!" Mr. Big sounded pained, and his ass was pushing back, moving with him. "Fuck me. God, just do it — again. Please!"

Never one to deny — well, possibly merely beyond being able to deny — Logan followed his body and drove it hard into Mr. Big again and again. He could feel the grating debris on the floor under his knees and he could hear their sex in a cacophony of sound around him He sure as hell could feel it. Smell it, rising up from the sweat-covered body he was riding. "I'll be back tomorrow," he promised. Then he leaned over the broad back and licked away the dirt and sweat along Mr. Big's spine. "We can do it against a wall."

"Fuck!" Mr. Big arched and came, the sound of his juice splattering.

Logan couldn't even swear. He couldn't breathe; all he could do was stab deep into Mr. Big another couple of times and follow him, his cock being milked and massaged and squeezed until it was either come or die.

Given the choice, Logan knew what he'd rather do.

He didn't pull out until he'd gotten fairly soft, and then it was with a certain amount of care. He knew what it felt like after. "You okay?"

"Shh." Mr. Big was still on his hands and knees, panting. "Now you stand up. Zip up. And you go."

Logan grinned. "Nice. I like it." He got to his feet, a little unsteadily. "And tomorrow?"

Mr. Big stayed where he was, but Logan could see him smile at the floor. "Tomorrow you better bring a change of clothes, 'cause I'm going to rip yours."

"We'll see." Logan smiled too and zipped his fly as he walked away, leaving his demolition man to clean up. "Thanks for the fuck. See you tomorrow." Playing the game, he didn't wait for a reply as he left. He did whistle, though, completely pleased with progress on his community restoration project.