Samesex/handandy
                                John A Kusters, jr.
                                     Handy Andy
               It's been a long day.  I've been at work since 8am, and here it's the
                middle of the afternoon and I still haven't gotten the damn program
                 working yet.  As I sit here staring at the screen, my attention is
                suddenly diverted by someone walking around outside the window.  Ah,
                   that's right, it's Wednesday, time for the weekly visit of the
                                         gardening service.
               I glance outside at the truck.  Hm, it's a different truck than usual.
                There must be a new service this week.  Then I get a look at the guy
               unloading the lawnmower.  Whoa!  There must be something about working
                         outside all day that causes guy to look like that!
                 He's a little taller than average height, and well built.  Not the
              muscled look, but certainly not a weakling either.  The kind of muscles
               that look like they came from working day by day.  He's wearing a polo
                  shirt and jeans, and they look tailored for him.  He fills them
               perfectly.  He has wonderful bright hair, a beautiful jaw line, and a
                wonderful cleft chin.  I can't see his eyes through the dark glasses
                  he's wearing.  It's gonna be difficult to concentrate while he's
                                         working out there.
              I try to get back to work while he starts the lawnmower.  After all, it
                 wouldn't really be prudent to be staring at the gardener while I'm
                supposed to be finishing up this program.  I start back looking for
               that bug in the program when I see him pushing the lawnmower right by
                                            the window.
                  I look up.  He's even better looking up close.  His forearms are
                 lightly dusted with slightly darker hair than what is on his head.
                   He's freshly shaved, but has that dark stubble look that adds
                definition to his face.  He looks like he has nice strong hands.  My
                 gaze wanders down the rest of his body, and I'm enjoying what I'm
                                seeing.  Then he's past the window.
               I wait for him to come back and watch him again.  On his third pass, I
               suddenly realize that he's watching me as he mows past.  Oh, god, has
               he caught me watching him?  Damn, that's probably the last I'll see of
                him.  The straight guys always seem to run away when they've noticed
                that you've noticed them.  No, there he is again.  As he gets to the
                point on his lawnmowing circuit closest to my window, he stops for a
              moment, takes off his sunglasses and wipes his brow, managing to fix me
                with a piercing gaze.  Ohmigod, his eyes!  Toffee brown.  I'm gonna
              melt.  By now, he's got to have figured out that I find him attractive.
                                     He's certainly teasing me.
                Now that he's certain he has my attention, he goes back to work and
               finishes up the lawn.  Now he's pushing the lawnmower to the back lot
                 to work out there.  His partner comes by with the edge trimmer and
               finishes up the lawn.  I guess I've had my thrill for the day, and now
               it's time for ME to get back to work.  About half an hour later, I see
                   him load the lawnmower back into the truck.  He jumps into the
               passenger side, but before the truck drives away, he looks back at my
                window. He's still wearing those sunglasses, so I don't know if he's
                         actually looking at me, but I certainly hope so...
                It's Wednesday again.  I'm really looking forward to the lawnmower's
                visit.  I'm in the middle of a major editing session when I hear the
                 truck pull up.  I make sure to save the files, in case I get, um,
                                    interrupted while he's here.
                This time, he's wearing some kind of baseball jersey/t-shirt. Looks
               like it has a team name on the front, for some kind of softball team.
                Well, that's certainly a good way to keep in shape.  He turns to set
               the mower on the lawn, and I see that there's something written across
               the back as well.  It says "Andy".  Hm, well, since I know no better,
                                    I'll assume that's his name.
                This time, I'm not so coy about watching him.  The office is pretty
                much deserted; the only other person around is working on the other
               side of the room with his headphones on.  He's too wrapped up in what
               he's working on to even notice that I'm in the room, much less zoning
                                            on some guy.
              Andy seems to appreciate my watching him.  He's taking his time to make
                sure the job is done thuroughly.  He's making sure to mow the entire
               lawn very carefully, especially the parts outside of my window.  Every
                now and again, he stops to stretch his back or his arms or his legs.
               He's showing off outrageously, and one look at his face shows that he
                                      knows it.  What a flirt.
                 He's done too soon, and again he must leave.  I sigh, but thinking
                about what might be in store for next week keeps me feeling good for
                                        the next few days...
               It's sweltering outside.  It's the kind of day that makes you want to
               leave your car windows open just so that you won't bake when you drive
                 back home.  Fortunately, the tempermental air conditioning for the
               building has decided to work today.  It's going to be a long day again
               for me, as I have the extreme pleasure of trying to get my programs to
               integrate with a bunch of other people's programs.  We're supposed to
                 ship the product next week, so there's a major deadline crunch.  I
                  really need a break.  And I'm not all that interested in coffee.
                 Right on schedule, there's the truck.  He jumps out of the cab and
               walks back to the rear of the truck.  He's being very cocky today, but
                I can't help but catch that infectious grin of his.  The guy at the
                 desk next to mine is noticing me staring, but today I don't care.
                 As "Andy" starts the mower going, I see that he's wearing a white
                t-shirt today.  He turns the corner, and I see what's written on the
                back.  It says "For a good time..." followed by a phone number.  Is
                 this for real?  Is he actually giving me his phone number?  I'm in
                 shock. Staring at him through the office window is one thing, but
               actually calling him and talking is something I hadn't even thought of
               except in my wildest of fantasies.  But then, he stops and looks right
                            at me, challenging me.  Do I take the risk?
              I grab a piece of paper and quickly write the number down.  Apparently,
              he sees me, as he starts back to his mowing.  I think, I must be crazy,
                         actually thinking of calling a complete stranger.
                  About half of the way through his circuit, he stops.  He must be
                awfully hot out there, cause I can see the sweat dripping off of his
               chin.  He's thinking the same thing.  Then he pulls his shirt over his
              head.  Wow, he should be modelling.  A light dusting of hair covers his
                chest and trails down his belly.  His firm pecs pull as he stretches
                his arms overhead.  To hell with work, I'd better be concerned about
                          keeping the proverbial drool out of my keyboard!
              Again, it's he's done too soon.  As the gardening service is packing up
                to leave, he carefully hangs his shirt from the truck's mirror.  He
                 made sure to leave the number and the message easily readable.  He
                grabs his shirt and he and his partner climb back into the truck and
                     take off, leaving me with a major dilema. Do I dare call?
               Well, I've decided.  Tomorrow is Saturday, and my front yard could use
                some work.  I'll call "Andy" up and ask if he does house calls.  It
                  takes me an hour or so, but I finally get the nerve up to call.
                          "Hello, Handy Andy's Gardening, can I help you?"
                              Hm, it's a young voice; it could be him.
               "Um, yeah, I hear you do really good work, and I was wondering if you
                do private houses as well as corporate gardening.  You see, my front
               yard is really bad, and I don't have the tools to take care of it." I
                             shut up since I realize that I'm babbling.
                                   "Yeah, but only on weekends.

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"
                                   "Great!  How about tomorrow?"
                "Well, it's kinda busy, but I guess I could at least stop by and see
                                  how much work it's going to be."
               We agree to a time to meet and I give him my address and phone number.
               I thank him, and then hang up.  It was all I could do to keep my voice
                                           under control.
              It's Saturday morning now, and I hear a truck pulling up in front of my
              house.  I live in a small house, but it has a huge yard, both front and
                back.  The front is arranged well, but I've let it grow a bit wild,
                 since I really have no luck with plants.  The back yard is a total
               jungle.  I don't entertain much, so I don't bother worrying about it.
               I look out the front windows.  It's his truck, and he's alone. I guess
              on weekends he works by himself.  He gets out of the truck and walks up
              to the front door.  Before he has a chance to ring the bell, I open the
              door.  He stands there, slightly surprised at having the door opened so
                 suddenly, but he recovers quickly.  Then he recognizes me, and he
                starts to smile, and his eyes get that twinkly look.  Wow, just like
                                          from the comics.
                        "Handy Andy, at your service," he says with a grin.
                          "Hi, Andy, I'm Jim.  Glad to meet you..." I say.
              He's wearing short shorts today with a large T-shirt with some mountain
               climbing gear logo along with a pair of nylon hiking shoes.  He looks
               around the front yard, and I can see him summing up the amount of work
               it needs.  "Looks like it's run wild for a few months, eh?  Well, it's
              lucky for you that I don't really have that heavy of a schedule today."
                "Why don't you come on in, and we can discuss what needs to be done
                                              first?"
               "Well, if you don't mind, I'd like to kinda take a free hand at it.  I
                               guarentee you won't be disappointed."
                  I decide to follow his lead.  "Sure, go ahead."  We shake on it.
                He starts to unload his truck.  I offer to help, but he nicely says
              that I'm paying him to do his work (I'd forgotten I was supposed to pay
              him) and that I should just sit back and relax while he gets to it.  He
               points to the chair on the porch and suggests that I sit back and read
              the paper or something.  As if I'll be able to concentrate on the paper
                with him working so nearby.  Reluctantly, I comply with his wishes.
               He starts working on the yard.  It's wonderful to be able to sit on my
              porch and watch a sexy man work while he's aware that I'm watching him.
              He begins with the hedges, trimming them neatly along the walk.  The he
                attacks the flower bed, clearing out the dead growth and encouraging
              the plants to flower more.  The day is a warm one, and before too long,
                                   his shirt is damp from sweat.
              "Would you like something cool to drink, Andy?  I have a couple of cold
                     beers, if you'd like.  Also, some fruit juices and soda."
                "That would be great.  You got any lemonaide?  That would really be
                                         great right now."
              Just my luck, I had made some the day before.  I went inside and poured
              out a couple of glasses worth and brought them back out, handing one to
                him.  He takes a few quick gulps.  "Thanks, Jim, that REALLY hit the
               spot.  It is a bit warm out here, isn't it?  Would you mind if I take
                                 this off?" He pulls at his shirt.
                              "No, not at all, go ahead..." I stammer.
               He winks at me, and pulls the shirt over his head slowly.  I am really
                 turned on by his sensuousness, and I think he's quite aware of it.
                      "Hold on to this for me?" he asks, handing me his shirt.
              I take it, and let him get back to work.  I return to my chair, holding
                his shirt in my lap.  He has a very masculine smell to him, and his
                                  odor clings to his sodden shirt.
                 After a couple of hours, he finally fishes up the front yard.  It
                hasn't looked this good since well before I moved in.  He's done an
                excellent job, worth a great deal more than we had agreed upon.  He
                                       joins me on the porch.
                                "Well, what do you think?" he asks.
              "It's incredible!  I'm going to be the envy of all of my neighbors with
                                       the job you've done!"
              "Thanks, I enjoyed it.  It's a very interesting yard.  I'm trained as a
              landscape architect, but I'm not done with my degree.  It's not often I
                       have a chance to do much more than simple gardening."
                 "You really have a good eye for it; it shows.  Now come on inside.
                 It's a lot cooler indoors, and you look as thought you could use a
                 rest."  I hold the door open for him.  He thanks me and enters the
                                               house.
                 I'm right behind him, but as I cross from the outside glare to the
               relative darkness of the interior, he grabs me and presses his body up
               against mine.  His body odor engulfs me as he locks his lips to mine.
              We kiss, but it's more intense t han any other kiss I've ever had.  The
                door's wide open, but I don't care.  My entire world is now just him
                               and myself and the kiss we're sharing.
                 Ten minutes and a subjective eternity later, we part.  "I've been
                  wanting to do that since the first time I saw you," I tell him.
                "You too, eh?  I was so afraid that you'd never call me.  I've never
               done anything that crazy before.  Imagine getting a t-shirt made with
                                        my phone number..."
               "I'm glad you did," I say as I kiss him again.  "Let's get you into a
                 shower," I tell him.  He grins mischieviously as I lead him to the
                                             bathroom.
                Once there, I peel his short off his body.  He has a beautiful body,
                better than my fantasies of him.  He helps me to undress and we get
                into the shower.  One of the nicest features, in my mind, about the
              house I'm renting is the huge shower that it has.  We made ample use of
                it, draining my hot water tank.  My hands explore every inch of his
               body and he explores my body just as thuroughly.  He starts to kiss me
              on my face and my neck.  He chews on my ear and whispers "I think I see
                           a way that you can pay me for my services..."
              "Which services?" I ask.  "Your gardening, or..."  He laughs and kisses
                                             me again.
                Once the water starts to get too chilly we quickly towel each other
              dry.  I lead him to my bed and we both climb under the covers.  For the
               next four hours, we make very passionate love.  When evening comes, I
                    ask him, "Do you have anywhere else you needed to be today?"
              "Well, when I told you that my schedule was busy, I kinda stretched the
                 truth.  About all I had planned was a bad porno and an evening of
                                           frustration."
               "That's just what I wanted to hear," I tell him and I attack his body
                                               again.
                  It's Sunday morning.  I have gotten up early and decided to make
               breakfast for both of us.  I put the coffee on, cut up some fruit, and
              am making breakfast when Andy walks into the kitchen.  He puts his arms
                          around my waist and pulls me into another kiss.
                "Morning," I try to say, but it comes out more like "mrglflng".  He
                                              laughs.
                              "Breakfast, what a great idea!" he says.
                               "It'll just be a minute." I tell him.
               He grabs a slice of canteloupe and munches on it while he takes a tour
               of the kitchen.  "I love your place," he tells me.  "Can I take a look
                                             out back?"
                 "Sure," I say, "but be careful.  It's kind of a jungle out there."
                He comes back inside after a few minutes and says "Yes, it's really
                       overgrown.  Looks like I'll have lots of work ahead."
              I start to tell him that I didn't expect him to do that as well, but he
                               silences me with a finger on my lips.
              "Hey, I have to tell my boss something when I keep coming over here..."
                                  he says with a devilish grin...
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