Carson sat in the cool, air-conditioned suite watching reality TV when Mr. Armisen walked in the door a little after 3.
“You almost got me in trouble, you sexy shit,” he laughed, tugging off his tie.
Carson sat up, eager to retort with something equally flirty, but all he could say was, “Sorry.”
Armisen chuckled, slipping his suit jacket off his back. “It’s alright. You ready to hike?”
“Sure.”
“Here, just let me change…”
Carson sat in front of the TV while Mr. Armisen wandered into the bedroom. But whatever played on the screen paled in comparison to the show next door. Carson’s eyes wandered, hypnotized, as Armisen stripped down to his briefs, peeling away the layers of professionalism and formality to reveal the muscled, furry beast beneath. He was built like a bodybuilder, perfectly proportioned, except when he turned to the side--his almost cartoonishly big butt sticking out behind him. It would be funny-looking if it wasn't so hot.
Carson cried out exasperatedly, “How do you look like that?”
Mr. Armisen laughed. “I lift.”
Carson shook his head. “The ladies must think you’re God’s gift to women.”
“I like to think it’s my stellar personality that gets them.”
The cocky asshole.
“And, seriously, that ass,” Carson leaned forward. “How much do you squat?”
“What, this?” Armisen asked, lifting one cheek to inspect, then letting it bounce back into place. He chuckled. “I’m Brazilian. Free with purchase.”
“Jesus… You have to let me eat you out…”
“Maybe later, horndog,” Armisen laughed. “Go get your shoes on before you stain the couch.”
Carson did as he was told. A few minutes later, Armisen emerged from the bedroom.
Carson looked up from his laces to see the man as he’d never seen him before--stainless white sneakers, olive shorts, a navy polo, a baseball cap and sunglasses. His short sleeves wrapped tight around his biceps, his muscled chest stretching out his shirt. Out of his work wear, Carson realized for the first time how much Mr. Armisen just looked like, well...a dad. He felt the blood rush to his pants.
“So,” Armisen asked, scratching just under his nipple. “Are you ready to go?”
“I’m gonna need a minute,” Carson said, glancing down at the bulge in his shorts.
* * *
Carson panted, struggling to keep up, Armisen’s fat ass disappearing into the brush overhead. They were hiking through a dense green forest, the humidity overwhelming, the ground below rocky and uncompromising. Even in his new outfit, Carson was feeling less sexy by the minute. He wondered if his wheezing was a turn-off.
“Let’s stop here,” Armisen said as they reached a cliff.
“Hokay,” Carson said, bending over, hands on his knees, trying to keep his gasps for air quiet.
“How ya doin’, buddy?”
“Great,” Carson tried to say, but all that came out was a cough.
Armisen snickered. “What do you say we take a breather?”
He pulled off his baseball cap and wiped the sweat off the top of his head. For the first time, Carson noticed his salt and pepper hair was thinning towards the very top.
Why did that just make him hotter?
Armisen set down his backpack to retrieve a water bottle. He chugged, letting the water dribble down his chin and splash his pecs until his nipples shone through. Then he let it drizzle his scalp, running his hands over his forehead to wash out the sweat. He looked over at Carson.
“Want some?”
“Sure--”
He held the bottle to his crotch and flicked it forward, sending a few drops squirting into Carson’s face.
“You fucker!” Carson sputtered.
“Thought you might wanna cool down,” Armisen apologized, handing Carson the bottle. Carson didn’t know how to tell him it only heated him up.
He sipped on the bottle and looked up to see Armisen prop one arm against a low branch and unzip, sighing in relief, his piss splashing loudly against the rocks.