Home Improvement played a weird and large role in the development of my sexual imagination.
This is really a story about how I’ve been masturbating to the same Nifty story for more than 20 years. Published in 1998 under the inexplicable heading of “celebrity” the Home Improvement Series were three long-form entries from someone called Kevin Arnold. Nifty stories almost always include an author contact and an invitation to reach out if you like what you read, and I have emailed Kevin several times over the years with no reply. If he ever reads this, I hope he is flattered that he’s been turning me on and getting me off for the better part of two decades and will allow me to keep his story published here.
Home Improvement was just weirdly sexual for me
When I’ve shared this story with people in the past, there is often a jolt of surprise that I found Home Improvement to be a sexual or even, for that matter, a watchable 90s sitcom. But there was something about the endless, overt, performed masculinity and the idea of four manly men (some of them my age!) living in a house together that set my preadolescent brain on fire. It was vastly different than my own home, and revolved around things like sports, and tools, and cars, and an inability to communicate real emotion. I had no touchstone for these concepts in my day to day life and they were fascinating.
Tim Taylor and Al Borland’s fraternal back and forth, and casual handsiness did much of the heavy lifting for my imagination, and it wasn’t a challenge to envision them extending their bro-touch far beyond what ABC and Disney were ever going to put onto my television in the 90s.
While the sexual focus of the show was ostensibly and most often on the cohosts/ring girls of Tim Taylor’s in-universe tv show “Tool Time,” these busty and otherwise depthless interchangeable women (Heidi and… the other one? I’m sure she had a name…) didn’t hold a candle to Richard Karn’s barrel chest and bearded, masculine self confidence. Al Borland could have done ANYTHING to me in my teen years.
I don’t know how we collectively overlooked Mr. Karn as the sex symbol he clearly was, but he always had my fullest of attentions.
Teen magazines of the era endlessly promoted the male child stars of Home Improvement as unthreatening young heartthrobs, but these guys did relatively little for me. They were written as two dimensional, annoying teenage boys and never really more than that. I knew enough annoying teenage boys trying desperately to substitute violence for physical affection in my school life. I had no need for them in my sexual fantasies.
What I wanted, more than anything in the world, was for Tim and Al to kiss.
And I wasn’t the only one. This Decider article from a few years back does a boner-making back and forth discussion of would you rather with Tim and Al, where Joel Kim Booster describes my same reaction to watching the show as a young man:
You know what? I’ll admit it. I used to jerk off compulsively to Tim Allen and mostly because of his character on Home Improvement. We’d watch it on syndication and then I’d promptly excuse myself to the bathroom to have a little bit of “tool time” to myself.Joel Kim Booster
When I stumbled across Kevin Arnold’s three part series on Nifty, I bookmarked it after reading only a single paragraph. I knew that I was gonna just break my dick off over these words. And I DID. I’m still doing it.
Many Nifty stories are sort of poorly written, and never edited or proofed. There are lots of errors, tense problems, and things that just make it hard for me to get lost in the fantasy at hand. But the Home Improvement Series was structured! There was a beginning, middle, and end! Chapters, even! Often there were three or four full acts, with opportunities for cumming long before the final climax.
In Tim and Al, the first of the series, and today’s Story Time story, the titular gentlemen have a work accident that ends in some physical exploration of bodies, arousal, terse denials of interest, and which sets the stage for each of them to want more during their upcoming ice fishing trip.
What’s really interesting in this series is how sweet and almost wholesome the coming together of these two men is depicted as. They find connection that defies their limited verbal exchanges and masculine denial of emotional experience. They discover love for one another and then go on to express it, in a macho, open, and joyful way, that remains true to their characters. It’s fukkin beautiful!
I’ll disclaim that obviously, I know Tim Allen is mostly a gross person with gross beliefs. This is in no way a defense of who he is or what his career has been. But this character has been making my boner rise for 20+ years and that’s always what we’re here to discuss.
Tim and Al
“Aw come on, Al. It’s not that bad.”
“Yes, it most certainly is, Tim,” Al huffed shaking the bits of wood and sheetrock out of his eyes and beard. Tim had done it again, attempted to improve on the obvious with disastrous results. “The Binford 200 spray paint assembly is just fine the way it is. It does not need a damn thermonuclear warhead attached to make it work better. Just look at me.”
“Do I have to?”
“Just shut up, Tim,” Al snapped unbuttoning his flannel shirt, tearing it off and sending it to the floor in a heap along with his goggles. A cloud of drywall dust still billowed from his body like Pig Pen on Peanuts. His v-neck t-shirt revealed a thick mat of dark chest hair with fine white power dusting the top like a Christmas Eve snow shower.
“Hey back the police paint wagon up a minute, guy,” Tim said with an increased annoyance. “What’s gotten into you, telling the boss to shut up?” Tim loosened his tie and pulled it over his head sending a shower of dust into his mouth. He pulled his dark blue dress shirt out of his trousers and unbuttoned it ripping it off as Al had done and hurled it to the floor in a copy of Al’s tantrum. The cool air in the studio dressing area brushed across his bare chest and caused his nipples to harden, not that he noticed.
“Tim, I’m sick of you screwing up everything. Why can’t you just leave the equipment alone for once and let us do the show the way it should be.”
“Then nobody would watch.”
Al opened his mouth to snap back but then just shook his head. Tim was right. The rapport they had working through Tim’s endless disasters were what brought most of their fans back to the show, that and Heidi, that is. He pulled his sweaty T-shirt off and continued shaking the drywall dust out. He was usually a little self conscious about being bare chested in front of Tim, fearing one of the endless fat jokes that always accompanied any state of undress. But he was so covered with dirt he just didn’t care.
“Hey, Al, you’re bleeding.”
“What? Oh my gosh, you’re right.” Al looked down and saw three small lacerations on his belly through the thick hair. He looked closer and saw tiny slivers of wood poking out of his skin. “Well, Tim, you’ve done it again. I’m a human pincushion now thanks to you,” Al winced as he tried to pick the small sliver out of his belly. “Don’t look now, Tim, but you’re bleeding yourself.”
Tim looked down at his own chest and saw scattered slivers embedded there as well. He ran his hand down and yelped as his fingers caught on some of the small splinters and bent them down. “Hey Al, hold on. I don’t want to go to the ER for this. They’re still giving me a hard time about that wood glue problem I had when I sat on that tube the other day.” Tim scrambled through a drawer in the worktable next to them. ” Here, I’ll use these tweezers to get the slivers out of you and you do the same for me, okay.”
“Okay,” Al said with reluctance. He was still bracing for one of Tim’s stupid jokes. Tim moved his left hand and rested it on Al’s warm stomach carefully(for once) pulling out the first sliver. He moved to the next and continued.
“They’re kinda hard to see with all this belly fur of yours Al. Man, you are a grizzly down here. It’s like looking for a need..”
“Needle in a haystack. Well, I’m not that much hairier than you, Tim.”
“Hey don’t get defensive. It looks good. You been working out or something Al? Your belly feels pretty firm down here. Looks like you’ve been firming up or something.”
“Well, yes I have, Tim. I didn’t think you’d notice. Ouch, that’s a hair you’re pulling out now.”
“Sorry. Yeah, I noticed. Just didn’t want you to get the wrong idea or anything about it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing. Hey Al, these suckers are sticking out of your pants too,” Tim said straightening up and looking at himself as well. “Shit, there sticking in my pants as well.”
“It’s like a cactus exploded. Tim..”
“Never mind, Al. Just take your pants off. I’ll get them all out. ” Tim unfastened his pants and carefully pulled them off, wincing as the splinters wiggled through the cloth as he removed them. He was soon in his boxers and now it felt downright cold in the studio. He looked up and grinned as he saw Al standing there in his tight white briefs, belly hair spilling over the top of the elastic. Al stood awkwardly waiting for Tim to get back to work on the slivers. Tim picked up a pair of magnifying goggles from the counter and put them on. “Don’t want to make a mistake and yank on that little Johnson of yours.”
Finally, the joke he’d been expecting. But Al was too concerned about the feelings in his groin to worry about a stupid joke. Tim had sunk to his knees in front of Al and was running his fingers lightly through his belly hairs to feel if he had gotten all the sliver out. The light touches sent a sensuous electricity through Al that hadn’t been felt since he’d broken up with Eileen. He could feel the warmth of Tim’s breath against his stomach as the Tool Man continued searching for the splinters. Tim was now working on his upper thighs and Al almost gasped as Tim’s fingers probed up underneath the leg of his shorts, around his nutsack for yet another splinter.
“Uh, it sorta looks like you might have a few under your shorts there, big guy, ” Tim said looking up at Al, his eyes huge and ridiculous through the goggles. “I’ll get em if you don’t mind. Seems like the least I could do.”
“Well why not, Tim. You’ve managed to humiliate me in almost every other way.”
“Hey, I’m not humiliating you…just helping you out. You want your mom to poke around in your pubes for splinters?”
“I don’t think so, Tim.” Al grabbed the sides of his briefs and slid them down mid thigh. There was no hiding his semi-erect penis now. It popped out a half-mast jutting out slightly from his heavy egg-sized testicles.
“Is that a nail gun you got there, Al, or are you just happy to see me?”
“Right. Like you wouldn’t have a reaction to me pawing around in your crotch.”
“Well, we’ll see in a bit, won’t we,” Tim added in his lispy mocking tone. “You want to lift your package, Al so I can get the slivers?”
Al lifted his furry nutsack up and closed his eyes as Tim brushed his fingers along the underneath side and through his forest of chestnut pubic hair. Al squeezed his ass together and tried to think of his mother eating at Mongolian Barbecue but his dick still remained fat and alert. He hadn’t been this close to another guy since the Navy and that liberty he’d had in Las Vegas and the poker game he’d had with his good friend, Paul. He still remembered the foggy feeling of waking up, staring at Paul’s dick inches from his mouth and how his butt had ached for two days afterwards. Paul never said a word about it but Al knew deep inside what had happened. He’d kept busy and surrounded himself with wonderful relationships like Eileen, but that was over and he was back to being alone now. Alone with his thoughts and secret feelings. And here was Tim on his knees doing a close up inspection of his balls. It was just too much. He almost lost it when he heard Tim say, “Okay, let me see your ass now.” Al’s eyes flew open and then he realized Tim was just continuing the examination. Al turned around robotically and Tim quickly brushed his fingers across Al’s furry cheeks. “Looks clear back here, Big Guy. Okay, your turn to grope me.”
Tim hooked his fingers in his boxers and slid them down to his shoes. Al’s left hand shook as he bend close to Tim’s belly to look for the slivers. He almost fell when he realized he still had his briefs down around his knees. He pulled them back up and gave Tim a quick look. Tim was totally absorbed in getting the splinters out of his own skin, however, and didn’t pay attention to the shaken sidekick. Al adjusted his erection in his shorts just as Tim added, “Hey, quit playing with your bratwurst and pull these mothers outta me. You can beat your baloney later, Al.”
“I do not beat my baloney, Tim, ” Al answered settling down on his knees in front of the naked Tool Man. “I wax my dolphin.” Tim started laughing and his belly jiggled slightly as Al brushed his own fingers through Tim’s belly hair. Tim’s hair was finer than Al’s and darker. It trailed down to his groin and Al’s eyebrow went up like Mr. Spock’s as he noticed Tim’s pubic hair was neatly trimmed in a short black wreath around his swelling tool. “So what’s the deal with your pubic hair, Tim?” Al asked finding a number of small slivers poking out near the spot where his shaft joined his belly.
“Oh, Jill thinks it looks sexy so I sorta trimmed it. Don’t tell any of the guys at the hardware store, okay Al.”
“Your secret’s safe with me, Tim. You want to raise your balls up?”
Tim lifted his nutsack and felt Al’s fingers light comb through his short bush of hair. Al’s sideburns were tickling against the head of his cock and Tim had to admit it felt damn good. His penis filled and hardened until it was quite firm. As Al turned his head back up it smacked him on the nose and he fell back in surprise.
“Sorry there Al. Guess you’re not the only one who needs to wax his dolphin.”
Al stared at Tim’s erection. It was almost 8 inches and very straight. The tip was rather pointed and dark pink and a small drop of fluid was seeping from his piss slit. His shaft got thicker as it got closer to his body creating a very solid appearance. Al’s mouth was open as he blinked at the sight of the Tool Man’s tool. He’d never seen it before except a fleeting glance at the urinals once in a while. He had seen Brad’s dick a year or two before when he had taken the boys swimming. It was a practical carbon copy of Tim’s, only smaller at the time with a small ring of blond hair surrounding it. He remembered Brad had stood naked in front of the mirror for over five minutes brushing his hair while Al was changing. He’d watched Brad stare at his dick as he changed, feeling good that he hadn’t shrunk up like George Costanza. Brad had never moved his eyes from Al’s crotch as he looked at the man’s reflection in the mirror while they changed. Al had noticed Brad’s penis swell during that time he was watching the hairy man toweling off his nuts. He had beat off more than once remembering Brad’s curious stare and the way it had turned him on to be watched by the hunky young man.
But now it was Tim’s bone that hovered just a few inches in front of his lips and he felt his own erection stiffen once again inside his briefs. It was all he could do not to envelop Tim’s rigid tool into his hungry mouth as he had all those years ago in the Navy and a couple of times as a boy with Cal. Tim turned around and shoved his smooth ass cheeks into Al’s line of vision.
“Hurry up down there, will you? I’m about ready to blast off with you fiddling around with me. Come on. Are there any on my ass?”
Al ran his hands lightly across the Tool Man’s buns, lingering too long near the crack, he figured. He even gently pulled the firm mounds apart to stare at the thin line of fur that snaked toward Tim’s anus. He nervously ran his finger along the edge quickly, knowing there were no splinters possibly there.
“What in the hell are you doing, Al? I didn’t stick the paint gun up my ass.”
“Yeah, okay. They’re all out,” Al answered standing back up adjusting his stiffness inside his briefs. Tim reached down and pulled up his boxers, tucking his own hard meat back inside. The two men dressed and gave each other a non-verbal head nod as they left the studio. Tim climbed into Jill’s red Nomad and fired up the engine. He watched Al pull out of the parking lot in his big Mercury Station Wagon. He knew there were some funny thoughts going through his mind, but he didn’t take any notice. Al just did that to him sometime. He pulled out of the parking lot and headed for home.
Al wiped down the walls of the shower and stepped out into the cool air coming in through the window. It was March but the Michigan winter was still holding on tight. He towel dried his hair and brushed it into place, picked up his Maverick beard trimmer and made a few precise alterations and neatly tidied up the sink as he always did. Those lessons from his mother were hard to unlearn and since he and Cal had been hairy boys, his mother had ridden them hard about keeping their beard bits out of the sink, their crotch hairs off the toilet rim and out of the soap. He felt a little hungry but he was just too tired to cook right now. He padded into his bedroom and fell onto his crisply made bed in a heap. The water from his legs and back splashed off on onto the quilt. He laid out spread eagle and listened to his heart. He looked down at his belly. It was flatter than it had been although he was still chunky. But no longer the flabby guy that Tim mocked. He ran his hand down his furry belly to his soft penis hanging sideways against his muscled thighs covered with curled brown hair. He lifted his sizable nutsack and felt the wind kiss the hairs that covered the soft wrinkled skin. His balls were heavy in the sack and large compared to Tim’s. He’d always liked his balls. Cal had called them cannonballs. He moved his hand back up to his penis and slid back the loose foreskin until the big purple head peeked out. He was already oozing some precum and he rubbed the slick fluid around the sensitive head, tickling his piss slit until even more joined his fingers. He put one arm under his head and let his left hand slide up and down on the shaft until his cock filled to full hardness pushing his foreskin back and exposing the full tip. He reached up and flicked the remote and his TV came on.
It was a video of a trip he’d taken to the lake with the Taylors. Jill was filming as the guys all wrestled around in the water and on the dock. He would stop the tape ever so often as the camera caught Tim bending over or one of the boy’s legs spread wide. One close up shot of Randy and Brad wrestling revealed the smaller boy’s balls hanging down the side of his wide-legged shorts with Brad’s underarm hairs in the same shot as he pinned Randy to the dock. Al froze the frame and let his excitement build up as he looked at Randy’s low hangers peeking out. He stared at the screen for a minute then started it again until it go to his favorite part. The boys conspired together and en masse rushed Tim who was standing on the dock ready to dive. Brad grabbed his Dad’s head and placed him in a lock while Randy and Mark pulled his pants down. The scene was only a second or two but in freeze frame it caught the magnificent Tool Man nude at least from the back. And as he bent over to pull up his trunks, Al froze the frame again and there was Tim’s butthole, winking in the sunlight of Lake Michigan. It was brief, but until today it was the only peek he’d ever had. Al stared at the screen as he stroked himself faster. He reached back into the bookcase behind his bed, behind some books, and brought out a thick black penis-shaped dildo with the name Binford carefully lettered in white along the edge. He clicked the switch on and felt the vibrations begin. He held his hairy legs up in a V, framing the screen, and he stared at Tim’s asshole as he felt the vibrator slip inside his greased sphincter. He slowly let it plow up inside until the vibrations were firmly resting against his prostate. His cock hardened even more as he squeezed his ass cheeks together around the 7 inch dildo.
Al released his penis and lay perfectly still, feeling the vibrations in his quivering ass stretched tight by the hard rubber dong. He moved his ass slowly back and forth allowing the tip of the dildo even deeper penetration. His cock head swelled, his breathing increased, his balls contracted, is asshole clamped tight, and Al watched his pecker paste rocket five inches into the air and land on his heaving hairy belly. The next orgasm sent another blast across his legs. Several smaller ones continued the lava stream of cum down his shaft an into his pubic hair. It had been a week since he’d last masturbated and he could tell. He scooped up the pool of semen on his stomach and licked the thick whiteness off his fingers. The image of Tim’s exposed ass crack was still on the screen. Al reached back and hit the remote and watched the image continue with Tim shouting expletives at the boys and then running after them. The camera was shaking with Jill’s laughter. The last shot showed a blurred wrestling match between Tim and Mark, the only one he’d been able to catch. In the edge of the screen you could see Tim had managed to get Mark’s shorts down to his knees, the boy’s stiff pecker bouncing around on a small set of balls framed with brown hair. The camera had clicked off at that moment. He’d never shown this tape to the Taylor’s, only an edited copy. Jill had forgotten what she’d really filmed, he guessed. Al was hungry now. He let the dildo slide out of his anus and picked it up. He walked back to the bathroom and washed it off and replaced it into it’s hideaway. He found a pair of white briefs in the drawer and pulled them on and walked to the kitchen.
Tim quietly crawled out of bed and headed for the bathroom. He took a long, slow piss and didn’t flush. Didn’t want to wake Jill. He found his boxers lying on the floor and pulled them on along with his undershirt and went downstairs. He was wide awake and that was strange. He usually slept very soundly after sex but not tonight. He was still disturbed by images that kept flashing on in his mind like a crazy slide show. He went downstairs and looked in the fridge, but nothing sounded good. He grabbed a beer and popped it open. I must be crazy drinking this in the middle of the night, he thought to himself. He looked out the window and saw a light flickering through the fence. What’s that crazy Wilson up to at this hour, he thought. He pulled on a jacket and stepped into a pair of snow boots and went out into the back yard. He scuffed over to the fence and looked over as he always did. He saw a makeshift structure of animal hides laid over a framework of branches. It was a rather small structure and had several small gaps that let the light and, Tim supposed, heat out. He stood there for a moment listening to a rhythmic soft slapping accompanied by low guttural moans and quickening breath. This continued to build in intensity until two bare feet stuck out the opening of the tent hovering about six inches in the air followed by a sharp gasp and then a huge exhale of air. Tim watched the feet lower to the ground and lie still. Finally he whispered, “Wilson?”
The two feet jerked slightly and a figure moved inside the tent. “Hidee-ho, good neighbor,” came the response from within the structure.
“Wilson, what in the hell are you doing,” Tim asked already starting to shiver.
“Well, I might ask you the same thing, but since you ask, I am enjoying my sweat lodge.”
“My sweat lodge, Tim. It’s a Native American spiritual ritual to cleanse the soul and mind and release negative energies.”
“Well, it sorta looked like you were releasing more than just energy.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, Tim, but yes I was practicing my own self-releasing if you will. I didn’t expect anyone to be up at this hour, you see.” Wilson scooted out of the sweat lodge and stood up, adjusting his ever present hat before he walked to the fence. His body steamed in the subfreezing temperature.
“You naked over there, Wilson?”
“Uh hum, uh hum.”..grunted Wilson, I certainly am.
“Jeez, Wilson, you’re gonna freeze your nuts off out here. How come you’re naked?”
“Because I was masturbating in my sweat lodge, Tim.”
Tim winced at the frank explanation Wilson gave but peeked further over the fence to get a better look at his neighbor’s nude body. He was big, tall that is. Smooth chest, very little flab. His long, thick penis was still partly erect but the foreskin had slid back over the large head. What was it with all these uncircumcised dongs he was seeing today? There was a neatly trimmed mat of reddish hair around his pole and tight scrotum, drawn up no doubt in the cold.
“Aren’t you cold, Wilson?”
“Yes, Tim, I’m getting that way. You got something on your mind neighbor?”
“Yeah, sort of. I’m having trouble getting some images out of my mind I don’t want there. I even had them tonight when Jill and I were doing it. “
“What kind of images, Tim?”
Here Tim’s voice dropped to an even lower whisper. “I keep thinking about something that happened at work, with Al. Wilson, it …it sorta turned me on and I just keep thinking about it. Do you think something’s wrong with me?”
“Well, Tim. I’m reminded of the old saying, “Be careful what you wish for, it might just come true.”
“But I’m not wishing for this. It just happened and it’s freaking me out.”
“Tim, Tim, Tim…I’m not sure what exactly you mean but it obviously troubles you. You and I have had quite a few discussion about this midlife change for you. Perhaps this is one of those changes. But anyway, you and Al are good friends and I’m sure you can work this out if you take the time to communicate your feelings with him in a personal way. Why don’t you take off with Al for the weekend and go up to my cabin. It might help you clear the air and your head of these thoughts.”
“Maybe you’re right, Wilson. Thanks. I think that’s a good idea. Hey, I’ll let you get back to your monkey-spanking. Sorry to disturb you, Wilson. I mean it. You’re a good neighbor.”
“As are you, Tim. But no, I only spank my monkey, as you say, once a day usually. You just happened to get lucky and witness the great event.”
Tim laughed. “See you, Wilson.”
Tim ran back in the house and stepped out of the shoes. The heat felt good. He took the coat off and walked out to the garage. He was glad he’d left the heater on in there too. He picked up a shop rag and ran it over the hood of his dark red hotrod. Even in the dim light coming in from the kitchen the finish was great. He leaned his head back and stretched his arms up, trying to take the kinks out of his back. The events of this afternoon came back in flashes once again. He saw Al’s big, hairy, naked ass right in front of his face and he felt his dick get hard again and he knew he wasn’t imagining it. He closed his eyes tight and tried to make the picture disappear. But this time it was only replaced by another set of images. Ones of his brother, Marty, and himself, back in high school. The new image flashed and pulsed through a series of erotic scenes of he and Marty in the shower together, in the bed, rubbing and jerking, and now sucking and, oh God, fucking each other. He remembered those times in living color, feeling the heat and the sweat, and the taste of Marty’s lips and rough chin against his own. Tim freed his cock from his boxers and pumped it with all his might, his left hand a blur on his erection. There was Marty bending over in the shower, taking Tim’s dick up his ass and then boom, the scene changed and it was Al, not Marty bending over. Tim’s jerking continued in earnest, leaning his head far back with his mouth opened. The scenes kept flashing between Al and Marty and back in quick succession. Just as his climax was approaching, the scenes changed again and Tim was on back, legs in the air with a teenage Marty pumping like a Texas oil well, eyes shut tight. Then, right as he felt his jism slamming up and out the tip of his tool, the scene switched again and there was Al now, in between his legs, holding them wide apart, slicing him in half with his thick cock.
Tim’s eyes flew open as his semen sprayed out on his chest and across the new leather interior of his hot rod. He took the shop rag and rubbed the sperm in until all that was left was the faint smell of spunk mixed with the oil and exhaust scent of the garage. Tim sat there and caught his breath. He half expected to see Jill or one of the boys standing there watching him. Thank goodness they weren’t. He shook his head. That was the most intense orgasm he’d had in years. What was going on? Why was he thinking about all this? He hadn’t thought about he and Marty as boys for almost 20 years. And Al…what in the hell was going on there? Tim crawled out of the hot rod and made sure all the evidence of his jack-off was gone. Hey, that old spooge leaves pretty good shine, he thought to himself looking at the shiny seatcovers. He walked to the kitchen and picked up the phone and dialed Al’s number. A sleepy voice, lower than usual, answered.
“Al, it’s Tim. Sorry to wake you.”
“No, that’s okay. What time is it?”
“About 2:30 I think.”
“Is something wrong, what’s happened, Tim.”
“Nothing’s happened, I guess I just wanted to apologize again for this afternoon.”
Al waited. He knew there much be more than this to make Tim call in the middle of the night. Tim continued.
“How about you and me go to the Lake tomorrow to Wilson’s cabin. We can take some food, kick back, ice fish if we want, spend the whole weekend.”
“What’dya mean why, because it’s fun. Because I screwed up our last ice fishing trip.” More silence on the phone. Tim gritted his teeth and said, “Because I’d like to spend some time with you and talk.”
More silence again before Al responded, “Okay, Tim. I’ll have to admit I’m quite taken aback, but sure, let’s go and talk, if you really mean it.”
“Alright. Great. I’ll pick you up at 8:30. I’ll bring everything so don’t worry. Just go back to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Okay, see you.”
Tim placed the phone back and went back out to the garage to start packing the gear.
The traffic was light as the Nomad sped along the interstate towards Wilson’s lake cabin. As Al had expected, they hadn’t said 10 words to each other yet. He didn’t know what was up but at least this beat the hell out of going to garage sales with his mom. Now that Cal had moved further away and Eileen was out of his life, his weekends were almost torture. He knew something was up with Tim, he’d seem him cut his eyes over in his direction a dozen times already and the Tool Man kept shifting in his seat and adjusting his dick in his jeans. If Al didn’t know better, he’s almost think Tim was nervous.
Actually Tim was nervous and kept trying to size Al up, wondering if the big guy had any clue as to what was going on in his brain. The images in his mind had settled down to a constant stream of fuzzy frames now but the mystery and memory of what had happened was strong still.
Wilson’s cabin was quite primitive as you expect. It had a nice woodstove, vented camp stove, a rocking chair, tons of books and assorted oddities, and a rather oversized single bed. It was definitely a single man’s hangout, but he did have other bedding and even a hammock in case of visitors. The men stowed their gear and food and proceeded to the lake to bore a hole. Tim had increased the power of the auger to make the process speed up. He started boring before Al could protest and in less than a minute, the hole was ready.
“Well, I have to hand it to you, Tim. That ridiculous contraption of yours seemed to work great,” Al admitted.
“Oh yeah, augh, augh, augh…”
Twenty minutes later the men were scrambling for their lives, clawing their way out of the hole that had opened up and swallowed them. The freezing water tore at their lungs and drove the breath out of them. Tim finally pulled himself out of the hole and onto the ice. He grabbed hold of the thrashing flannel popscicle and hauled him up and out of the icy water. The two men lay on the ice for a few seconds to catch their breath and then scrambled toward the cabin as fast as their frozen legswould take them.
They slammed the door and began tearing off their sodden clothes. Ice hung from their hair and eyelashes. Al’s beard looked like Jack Frost’s. There was no time to think or react, just to search for some heat. The two naked frozen men grabbed sleeping bags and wrapped them around themselves. Tim’s teeth were chattering so hard he was almost deaf. Al had finally gotten his breath back and started to fume as usual.
“Just look at me,” he ordered pointing at his still frozen beard and hair, “it looks like I’m in the goddam Titanic movie. It was that fucking souped-up auger, Tim. It must have somehow cracked the ice surface when we didn’t know.”
“Hey, chill out, Al…”
“Very funny, Tim. It was bad enough last time when you fell in with the car keys and all but at least I was dry. We could have both been killed!”
“God, you’re gorgeous when you’re angry.”
“Don’t worry, Al. Give me a hand with the stove, we’ll be warmed up soon. We’re okay. You didn’t want me to disappoint you by doing everything right, now did you?”
Al sighed and tucked the sleeping bag under his arms and shuffled over to the stove. In ten minutes, the fire was blazing nicely and his fingers and toes were the only thing left blue. His balls still ached like crazy from practically crawling back inside his body from the cold. Tim had started some coffee and in the meantime had pulled a bottle of Jim Beam out for them both. Al knew he’s been a fool not to bring extra clothes. Tim had told him not to bother but since when did he listen to Tim. He’d rummaged around in Wilson’s things and found a couple of pairs of socks and even a couple of stocking caps. They looked like aging x-rated gangsta rappers moving around in the cabin. It took about an hour, but Al was finally not mad anymore. He and Tim had settled down in front of the stove which glowed a dull red in the dim cabin. The coffee was good and even better with the shots of JB. Tim produced some primo beef jerky and dried fruits. And afterwards, he even pulled out a couple of cigars and the two men leaned back on pillows and blew smoke rings toward the ceiling.
And the most remarkable thing happened. They started talking, talking about real things. Sure they covered some sports, and cars, and family. And finally, sex. It was a good talk full of raunchy jokes and past conquests. Who knew how much of it was true. Heidi got undressed and ridden more than once in their conversation. So did Eileen and Jill for that matter. In fact, Tim almost blushed at Al’s frank confession of some of his erotic thoughts concerning his wife. The talk winded its way toward their boyhood and memories. The room had grown warm and still even though wind and snow were howling outside. The sleeping bags had slowly dropped to their waists and now, the men reclined back on the pillows uncovered, their skin warm and dry in the radiant heat.
“So, Al, when was your first time. You know, when did you figure out you could make it stand up and bark and all that.”
“Actually, Tim, I was 12. But I didn’t find out about things on my own.”
“No. It was after my dad died and one of my uncles was staying with us. He was a lot younger than my Dad and was living with us for a while, sort of helping my mom and all. I loved him very much and was probably overly affectionate with him but I’d just lost my dad and I missed being around him so much. One day when were alone and I was sitting by him on the couch, I laid back and draped my legs over his lap. He started rubbing my legs and the next thing I knew I was taking his hand and moving it up to my crotch. We sat there for a long time and he just kept rubbing me through my jeans until I practically popped my zipper. I remember he kept looking at me to see if I was okay and if he should go on. So, I reached under my leg and felt for his pecker. It was rock hard like mine. I started massaging it and soon our pants were off and my penis was in his mouth. He got me off in about 30 seconds and that was my first orgasm. Didn’t even know what was going on. I returned the favor to him and sucked on him till he came. After that, he came to my bedroom almost every night for a couple of months until he left.”
The two men sat quietly. Al searched Tim’s face for the expected joke but it surprisingly wasn’t there. What was there was an obvious enlargement in the size of Tim’s tool. It was now about half hard, raising itself off his furry balls.
“Wow, Al. I had no idea. That musta been real intense.” Tim bent his legs up and felt the weight of his balls and they hung down further and his penis twitched in the air. “But I do know a little about what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, things were tough for all of us after my dad died, too. Jeff and Steve sort of grew close and shut Marty and I out quite a bit.
So, Marty and I got close, I guess. It started when were pretty little, don’t really know exactly when. We shared a bedroom and one night was feeling really sad or scared or something and so I went and got in bed with him. I remember spooning him and wrapping my hand real tight around his belly. I remember I was old enough to know what a hard-on was and as he rubbed against my shorts, I could tell my whacker was sprouting wood big time. I don’t know why, but I reached down and started rubbing Marty through his shorts. He never said a word but his breathing sped up and his butt started rubbing against me harder. Pretty soon I slipped my fingers inside his underwear and felt his little pecker as hard as could be. It really turned me on. I finally just pushed his shorts down and then pushed my own down too. I know I didn’t have any hair but my dick had really started growing and Marty was really impressed. I pulled him up on top of me and we rocked back and forth, rubbing our dicks between our bellies until boom, I came. I’d heard Steve and Jeff talk about it,but that was my first time. Marty was fascinated by it.”
“So, was that it for you two,” Al asked with a dry mouth. His own penis was stirring now and his pulse was quicker.
“Nah. It was just the start. Marty started crawling into be with me all the time after that, asking if I wanted to play, “Touch.” That’s what he called it. Sometimes we’d just touch and sometimes we’d hump each other. I think it took about a year, but we eventually started doing the old 69. Marty loved it. Hell, so did I. Did anything like that happen between you an Cal.”
“Yes it did, Tim. After my uncle left, probably about a month after, Cal and I were talking one night and I let it slip that Uncle Ray had fooled around with me. Cal almost exploded and said, I knew it. He did it with me too! So we started talking about what had happened and how we both had sort of wanted him to do it and all and we started laughing about how he both had these raging boners and the next thing I knew, Cal had me pushed down on my knees with his penis in my mouth. We went on like that ever once in a while for a couple of years probably until Cal discovered girls and moved on.”
“What about you.”
“I moved on too, I guess.”
“Well, what about you?”
“What do you mean, I’m married Al. I have three kids.”
“That’s not what I asked. Do you still think about it. You know, the guy stuff?”
Tim was quiet. He didn’t exactly know what to say. He rubbed his rough chin and looked sheepishly at Al and shrugged his shoulders. “You know, Al. You and I have known each other for almost 10 years and here we are naked together again in less than two days, ” Tim chuckled.
“Yes, Tim. It’s a bit odd, I guess. The funny thing is …I , I don’t really feel that uncomfortable about it.”
“I’ll tell you something odder…I don’t feel weird either. In fact…it’s sorta….fun, in a strange way. I guess it’s that male bonding that Wilson is always talking about. God knows he doesn’t have any trouble being naked with another guy. Can I ask you something, Al?”
So, you and Cal both are uncut?”
“Yes, Tim. The Borland men have been uncircumcised for over 200 years as far as we know. My mother couldn’t bear the thought of the doctor cutting on us and besides, it’s the natural way, Tim. Why’d you ask?”
“Just always sort of fascinated me, I guess. Maybe a little jealous of all that extra skin to play with or something.”
“Well, you should have been there in the showers in junior high to hear all the cracks about my elephant’s trunk or pet anteater!”
“Ouch. That probably wasn’t fun.”
“Luckily my impressive size and the enormity of my balls made short work of any of their teasing.”
Tim’s head snapped up and looked at Al who’s eyes sparkled with meaning. “I’ve never heard you talk like this before, Al. Hell, you even said fuck a little while a go.”
“I know. I surprised myself. I guess it’s just the atmosphere…all alone…
“And horny…” Al stood up and started moving toward Tim.
“Woah…back the weiner wagon up, Al” Tim said getting an eyefull of Al’s erection as he backed up toward the bed…”Hey, wait a … shit..”
Al stood facing Tim. His heaving chest hairs barely grazed the brown hair on Tim’s chest. Tim was backed against the bed. Al moved a step closer and Tim lost his balance, falling back onto the bed. Al crawled on top of him and pinned him to the mattress. He leaned down close to Tim’s face who was absolutely panic stricken. Tim tuned his head away and Al moved close to his ear and whispered, “Gotcha!”
Al exploded with laughter. Tim’s face was crimson but he soon started to laugh. “You should have seen your face, Tim. You almost pissed all over both of us.”
“You freaked me out so bad, Al. I never thought you had something in you like that.”
“So don’t go underestimating me, Tim,” Al said climbing off the still shaking Tool Man
The two laughed some more and had a little more to eat, but it was dark and they were tired and decided they might as well try to get some sleep. They’d both almost forgotten about being naked until it was time to lay down again. The energy of Al’s fake attack was still heavy and Tim was reluctant to know what to do and how much of that scene was an act. But the fact was, it had still been fun in an unexpected way and after all, Al’s dick had been hard too. It wasn’t just his own imagination going crazy. Tim watched Al rummaging around in a box of Wilson’s stuff. His big hard round ass was in full few with even a peek at the rosebud inside as be bent over. He turned around to find Tim staring. Al was holding a big 2 quart jar.
“What’s that for, Al.”
“It’s the bathroom, Tim. Unless you’d like to hang your dick out the window.” Al flopped his heavy penis into the jar and relaxed his muscles sending a loud, strong, yellow stream into the jar. Tim kept staring at the jet arcing out of Al’s thick foreskin. Al jiggled his penis to get the drips off and handed the jar to Tim. He followed suit and slid his own dick into the jar and added another foamy head to Al’s piss. Tim set the jar down carefully against a far wall and turned around to see Al in the bed, scooted over as far as possible to the wall. Tim climbed in beside him and basically assumed the chair position, trying not to let his growing cock stab Al in the back.
“Look, Al. I don’t think there’s anyway for us to sleep in this bed without touching each other a little…which is hard enough but us being naked and all is really weird. So, don’t worry about it if we happen to …
“Collide…don’t worry Tim. I can handle it. Good night.”
The two men lay still, wind howling outside the snug cabin. Tim tried to relax but his mind was still racing from the accident. The images of he and Marty and also of he and Al kept flashing off and on is his mind. There was no place to put his arm it seems except to rest it on Al. Before long, he could feel his penis stiffen enough to dance along Al’s ass cheeks, finally lodging in between in the big man’s furry crack. He tried not to move but soon Al began to shift slightly and his dick slid in between Al’s buns even further. Al seemed to almost press back against him a bit and soon Tim’s chest was firmly against Al’s furry back. He could feel his heart beat against Al’s back and knew precum was beginning to leak out of his piss slit. He sat up quickly.
“What’s wrong, Tim?”
“Nothing. It’s just my ass is hanging off the edge of this damn bed. It’s really tiny. I just can’t get comfortable.”
“You think we should turn over and face the other way.”
“Yeah, okay. That might work better.”
They scooted around until Al’s back was against the wall and he curled himself around Tim in the chair position. “It does fit better like this, Tim,” Al said. Tim was trying to keep himself from touching Al still. “Tim, relax. Like you said, there’s no way not to touch each other.” In a minute or two, Tim settled back with his back rubbing against the fur on Al’s chest. He could feel the tickle of his beard on his neck and his breath in slow puffs as well. He was tired and the warmth and coziness relaxed him. Before long his eyes were closed and he was in a light sleep.
Sometime later, Tim roused and realized Al’s arm was wrapped around his waist, his fingers resting against his stomach just above his pubic hair. He could feel Al’s fully erect cock wedged firmly inside his ass crack, nudging his hole. It was wet and slick there as he moved his butt forward. This was met by Al pulling him back toward his belly and inching his cock even further toward Tim’s rosebud. Tim lifted his right leg just a little and Al moved forward again, this time his glans resting firmly against Tim’s fuzzy hole. Al’s hand moved down from Tim’s belly and softly cupped his nutsack. At that, Tim twisted around on the bed and suddenly was face to face with a wide-awake Al. Their bellies were rubbing against each other. Tim looked directly into Al’s eyes, trying to figure out what was going on. The big guy whispered:
“Tim, you wanna play touch?” Al moved his fingers down and lightly stroked Tim’s hard cock. Tim looked back, deep into Al’s eyes and moved his own down to cup the mighty Borland balls, holding them like they would break, and said in his low voice, “Everybody know what time it is?” Al smiled and whispered back, “It’s Tool Time.”
Al moved his penis to where its tip was against the tip of Tim’s and gently slid his large foreskin over his head and then over Tim’s. He wrapped Tim’s hand around his own and the men stroked together, creating a juicy river of slickness as they docked their cocks, feeling the closeness of sharing the same skin. “So that’s what I’ve been missing,” Tim said. “That’s it,” Al answered and locked his lips onto Tim Taylor’s.
Tim pushed his tongue into Al’s open mouth and began to thrust in as deep as he could. He could feel Al’s beard ticking the sides of his face and yet he kept kissing and now felt Al suck his tongue deep inside his mouth. Tim reached around and grabbed Al’s large, firm ass cheeks and kneaded them, sliding his fingers up into that furry crack as Al began to bathe his face with hard, hot kisses. Al moved down and sucked hard on Tim’s right nipple, twisting the other in time with his licks. Tim grabbed Al’s head and shoved it down to his aching groin. Al slid his tongue down the Tool Man’s pole until his face was buried in Tim’s neatly trimmed pubes, licking back up and lingering on the underside of his glans until a river of precum flowed across his lips and tongue. He worked his tongue all around the tip, nibbling and sucking more and more of it until the entire shaft was swallowed and Al’s nose pressed hard against Tim’s pubic bone. Al rolled each testicle round and round as Tim thrust deeper and deeper inside Al’s mouth. Tim was slamming Al’s face down on his cock harder and harder. Al pushed Tim’s legs wide apart and found his steaming pucker with his middle finger. The slobber and spit pouring out of Al’s mouth had bathed Tim’s crack and Al’s finger slid inside easily with a grunt from Tim. Al found Tim’s prostate and began to massage it as he sucked harder, pumping up and down on Tim’s shaft. Tim’s anus contracted hard around Al’s finger and his semen spurted up like a fire hose coating Al’s mouth and throat with the thick paste. The second spasm sent semen across Al’s cheek and down his beard. Al licked Tim’s penis clean and felt Tim push him back onto his back.
Tim ran his tongue through Al’s forest of chest hair like a weed whacker and stopped at his swollen nuts. Tim engulfed on and rolled it on his tongue, then moved to the other sucking on it until they were both heavy and coated with spit. He grabbed Al’s thick uncut meat and lightly slid his tongue underneath the foreskin tasting Al’s sweat and a tiny bit of old cum left unnoticed. He pulled the skin up with his teeth and then slid it back down with his waiting mouth. He sucked and sucked, coming close to taking in all of the massive meat. His jaws were aching and he was amazed to feel his own cock already hard again, something that never happened at home. Al lifted up his big, manly, hairy legs in the air and Tim moved his huge nutsack out of the way and without thinking, dove into Al’s fur covered crack. His tongue bathed Al’s asshole and gingerly worked it’s way inside until Al’s ass contractions began to squeeze his tongue back. Tim pushed Al’s cheeks as far apart as they would go and tongue fucked him deeper and harder until the sweat on his face dripped onto Al’s hairy ass. He knew what he wanted to do and Tim crawled up behind his sidekick and flipped the big man over with one giant push. Al rose up on all fours and then lowered his head to the bed. He grabbed his hairy asscheeks and exposed his quivering hole to Tim and yelled, “Fuck me, Tim. Fuck your flannel god!” And with that, Tim’s dick head pierced Al’s anal ring and tore through him all the way to the root. Al’s mouth was open in a giant silent scream as Tim held on to his shoulders and started to slide his 8 inches in and out of the big guy’s paralyzed asshole. Tim’s thrusts became bigger and harder and finally Al found his voice again and yelled, “More Power!” Tim thought he would plow though Al’s ass and out his stomach with his last thrust as he felt his jiz spray deep inside Al Borland’s bowels.
“Oh god, I’m going to cum!” Al shouted and Tim pulled his cock roughly out of Al’s ass and dove headfirst onto his nine inches. The first blast shot all the way to Tim’s appendix practically. The next load poured out like a fountain, filling Tim’s mouth with the thickest wad of sperm spackle he’d every imagined. Al’s semen poured from his nose and mouth, drowning the Tool Man in cum. The two hairy men collapsed in a heap of sweat, and cum, and spit.
Tim opened his eyes sometime later and felt a warm wetness caressing his manly bunghole. Al was on his knees on the floor with Tim’s legs pushed wide open back against his chest slathering his hairy crack with kisses, wide licks, and pointed probes into the Tool Man’s hidden hole. Tim could feel Al’s beard tickle his ass and the hungry man kept eating his asshole, causing it to open to his wishes. He felt a new sensation as Al slid two large fingers deep inside the hole as he licked and suck on Tim’s still heavy balls. Al began a slow rhythm of deep finger-fucking that made Tim’s pole rigid again. Al picked up a black object and held it up for Tim to see. In the dimness of the cabin he could still make out the shape of a slim, seven-inch dildo with the name “Binford” in white along the side. He grinned as Al lifted up his soggy face and proceeding to slide the smooth vibrator up inside his gooey hole. Tim gasped as the hard rubber broke through his anal ring and plowed toward his prostate. His sphincter clamped hard around the tool as Al switched it on sending a delicious tingle of vibrations toward Tim’s sensitive inner parts. Al started up the fucking rhythm again and Tim closed his eyes and held his knees with his hands, spreading his legs wide apart as the dildo buzzed and sawed its way to the magical land that surround near orgasm.
Al was fisting his own hardness and spreading a dollop of lube generously over the mighty veined shaft. He slowly withdrew the dildo and pressed the tip of his penis against Tim’s anus. With a shift of his weight, the Borland bone pierced Tim’s rectum and slid forward until Al’s hairy eggs were firm against Tim’s butt. Tim was groaning and grunting “Augh, augh, augh,” as Al slowly started pounding his boss’s ass, fucking deeper, holding Tim’s legs wide apart. Al’s fucks came all the way out and the then plowed in again until the squishy fuck sounds filled the cabin in a constant smack. Al could feel the jiz boiling deep in his balls and increased his pounding until Tim was almost screaming, jerking his cock with ever push of Al’s power pecker. Tim’s penis blasted another huge load up toward Al’s face, splashing over the mens’ chests. Al thrusted three more times and erupted his load deep into Tim’s bowels, spasming again and again until the white cream leaked out the sides of Tim’s sorely stretched hole. The big guy collapsed on top of Tim, their breath coming in loud gasps. Mouths and tongues found each other again and they kissed deeply, tasting sweat and cum on each other’s rough faces until they fell into an exhausted sleep.
Tim opened his eyes and realized it was morning. The cabin was filled with smell of fresh coffee and bacon. Al stood over at the stove dressed, flipping the bacon around the sizzling pan. Tim lifted up the sleeping bag and saw he was still naked. When he moved his leg and felt the stiffness there and then the dull ache in his ass, he knew he hadn’t dreamed it. He and his partner, his co-worker, his friend, and buddy had fucked and it had been glorious. His mind was filled with conflicted emotions wondering how this was going to change his world.
“Hey Tim, you hungry?” Al asked glancing at the sleepy man over his shoulder.
“It sure smells good, Al.”
“Well, I managed to smuggle this rack of bacon away from mom’s fridge before she saw it other wise we’d still be eating the jerky. Your clothes are dry.”
“That’s good. I was about to decide to become a nudist and we’d just do the show nude next week.”
“That could get a little tricky with the lathe.”
Tim groaned. “I don’t want to think about that. He stumbled over to the piss jar and bent his stiff pecker into it and released a big stream. It was almost full and he nearly dropped it before he finished. Al called, “Hold it, let me get that,” and took the practically overflowing jar to the door and threw it out into the snow making an abstract painting in yellow. Tim dressed, but not as quickly as he figured he would, feeling the uncomfortable stiffness of the jeans that had dried in the heat of the wood stove. He sat back on the bed and Al came over with a plate of bacon stuffed between some bread and a hot cup of coffee. Al sat beside Tim and the men ate the crisp bacon sandwich.
“This is great, Al. Thanks.” Tim wanted to say something else, anything else. But what in the hell do you say to a guy who just had your dick in his mouth a little while ago? “Uh, Al…”
“You know, Tim. I have to tell you. I had the weirdest dreams last night. You were in them and we were doing all sorts of weird shit. They seemed very real and, well I have to say it, erotic.”
“You dreamed this?”
“Yes. Dreamed it. How about you?”
“Yeah, my dreams were all screwed up, too.
“Probably was all that JB and sleeping naked, don’t you think?”
“Must have been.” Tim didn’t know what to say. They sat there finishing their breakfast and coffee. The morning was bright and the sun was streaming in the windows. They got up and packed up the gear and got ready to leave. Just as Tim was walking out the door to the car, Al put his hand on Tim’s shoulder and whispered, “Great game, that “Touch,” raising his eyebrows and winking. Maybe we could see if Marty remembers how to play some time?”
Tim put his arm up around Al’s shoulder and grinned, “Just like riding a bike, Al. I’m sure he remembers. I’ll talk to Wilson about coming back up here before too long if you want.”
“Well, I sure love ice fishing, Tim,” Al said closing the door.
UGH! I love it. I thought about trimming it down to publish here, because it is REALLY long, I know. But each section and substory, from the guys exploring and commenting on their bodies, to Wilson masturbating in his back yard, adds some kind of additional detail and reality to the overall narrative. I was hard the whole time I was editing this, and now it’s time to make some Tim Taylor grunting penis noises while I sperm out yet another load over Tim and Al.
Goes without saying that the phrases “Home Improvement,” “Tooltime” & “Binford,” and all characters are trademarks of and copyright The Walt Disney Company, Touchstone Television and Wind Dancer Production Group.