When Big Cocks Collide Pt 1

He felt the cold wetness of the lube along his crack. He spread his legs and arched his back, his fingertips gripping the rough bricks on the wall.
*****
I can see the headline: “Couple found strangled in paint aisle; home stager suspected.”
Ace Hoffman’s shitty afternoon had bled into the evening, turning his mood sour and sharp. His last appointment of the day was supposed to be a simple design consultation, a first-time evaluation of the home with a list of suggestions. No heavy lifting, in and out in ninety minutes tops.
But ninety minutes stretched into four hours, thanks to an unscheduled trip to the paint store and having to mediate two bickering homeowners. They simply would not agree on the colors to paint the rooms of a house that they were selling. With luck, they would only be living in that suburban box for three more months. Yet, every swatch turned into a protracted battle – and Ace was forced to be the patient referee.
These people needed marriage counseling more than a home stager. After the twentieth swatch that they held up for the living room, Ace was ready to scream, “For fuck’s sake, you’re from Johnson County! Pick beige and be done with it!”
Unfortunately, Ace hadn’t built up enough clients yet to be able to turn any down any work. So he swallowed every tempting obscenity and gently guided them to their purchases – then got the hell away from them.
After a late dinner and a life-restoring whiskey at his favorite Irish pub, Ace still needed to unwind. The last thing he wanted to do was spend another Friday night alone in Lawrence, Kansas.
Nothing to distract me there anymore, now that the upstairs bathroom is tiled. Maybe I should buy another rundown house and fix it up so I can...