I turned my back toward the older maintenance man as he stepped into the showers, not wanting to look like I was trying to scope him out. But as he stood there under the stream, his face drenched in the streaming water and his hands pressing against the wall, I knew this was my only chance to look him over without him noticing me staring.

Wow! He had thick dark reddish hair everywhere—chest, belly, and legs, but also ass, arms, shoulders, and back! It looked like a carpet. I wondered what it would feel like to be that hairy. Whether it would be bristly or soft. How his hair would feel against my skin.

His shoulders were broad and his legs were equal to his chest, but his overall height and build gave the impression that he was tall and lanky. His muscles were sinewy, not pneumatic. His ass looked like twin volleyballs covered with fur. Much of his face and the tops of his shoulders were covered with reddish-brown freckles. He looked like red-hot sex on a stick.

Against my best efforts, my already wrist-thick cock started getting thicker as I stared. I knew that before too long, it’d start hitching itself upward with every heartbeat like a crane raising materials to the top of a skyscraper, its light-pink head glowing like a beacon atop the darker brown shaft. I tried thinking of deaths in my family, of ugly people, of anything other than the dream man across from me in the warm shower room, and was almost successful—until he turned around.

Damn! His cock was longer than mine! Not quite as thick, but hey, you can’t have everything, right? Thicker than normal, at least. His cock was like a Dr. Grip pen compared with my Sharpie. And a long, veiny sleeve of very white skin tightly encased his cockhead, revealing the broad flare of his corona underneath. I could only stare as the water dripped from the pointy snout of his foreskin. I knew my mouth dropped open.

I heard a roaring sound in my ears and started feeling weak in my knees. I know now that I was more powerfully aroused then than at any other time in my life, but at the time, I thought I would pass out.

“You OK? Hey, man, you all right? You look like you’re gonna fall out.”

Shit. My staring must’ve been obvious. My mouth working, I couldn’t find words. Then, I could.

“Just a little weak from being in the sun all afternoon with only three water breaks.” But I still felt dizzy. It must’ve been easy to see.

“Hey, man, take it easy! Here, let me help you.” He came over, put his furry muscular arms (soft! not bristly!) around my torso, and lowered me gently to the floor of the shower room on my back, putting his hand behind my head to cushion it, and then bending over me as tenderly as a mother over a sick child.

I could only lie there, dizzy and embarrassed, my cock pointing like a thick exclamation point toward my sternum. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught his quick glance at it.

“You gonna be all right for a moment while I get some towels?” His deep, masculine voice was gruff but full of concern.

“Yeah. Thanks, man.” I put one hand over my eyes, more embarrassed now than dizzy.

He came back with the towels, folding one and putting it under my head, then rolling my body to the side and back onto another one, covering my torso and crotch with the third one. I was almost disappointed with the impersonality of his touch, until he knelt down again to make sure my head was comfortable and his dangling cock’s tip touched my bicep.