Mowing the yard for a power line crew Forman. About a month ago, the power company bore a couple lines under the sidewalk to across the street. About 10 AM I went out to get my papers and check to see if the mail ever came for yesterday. It was warm, so I was just wearing my jock with the strap above my shorts without a shirt. My mailbox is on the edge of the sidewalk and they are had put up cones and closed off 1 of 4 lanes, but there is a 5th turn lane in places. They were parking some of their vehicles and equipment, on the street and the Foremen was outside his truck nearby. I said good morning". If you are not bitching about all the noise, he engaged me in a friendly manner. He was a strong looking, 40 to 45 y.o., about 6' tall, 180 to 200 lbs, with an admirable shock of chest hair arising above his shirt line. I met Jim, and while we talked he examined my chest & beard and I admired his beard and chest hair as well. When I got things back in gear, I started mowing the yard which takes about 10 hours, generally split over three days. About 11:30, I made it to the lowest area and I noticed that many of their vehicles had apparently left for lunch. When I work that area, I often doff my shorts and just ride the mower just wearing my jock. Since they had that area coned off up on the bridge that crosses a creek here, I felt that walkers and bikers would not be a problem. After 10 or 15 minutes, I realized Jim had not joined his crew for lunch, but was having his lunch looking over the side of the bridge, watching me mow the yard in my jock. I pretend not to notice and pulled into the shade where I removed my jock and started masturbating for him. Man, I sure like beating off for another man, so 10 minutes later I came on my chest, cleaned up and put my jock and shorts back on and finished the lowest level next to the creek. On a trip back towards the bridge, I acknowledged his presence and waved hello and he waved back. They were here about two and a half days because of the bridge which made their work more difficult. They generally arrive by 8 AM and call it a day around 3 PM. On the second day, after everyone else had left, he pulled his truck up to the house of the driveway. I greeted him sitting on the porch just in my jock & shorts as he drove in. I asked if he wanted a coke or sprite, and he stopped and chatted. He was a nice, sexy gentleman. He felt my being comfortable reading the paper just in my jock was a turn on for him.. He said he regularly masturbated several times a day., tend to do.like I He said he found my bold masturbation exciting for him as it had been for me. I got him a soda and returned to the porch, which has several bushes that give one cover, but is close to the road. After giving him a beverage, I removed my shorts and sat down just wearing my supporter. He stood up and removed his vest, shirt & trousers, revealing he too was wearing a jock that day. It was just what I needed, a hairy, bearded man tugging and massaging his cock as I was. He said that my mowing display had interested him a lot. We were both 6" to 7" long and while he was more of a bear than, he thought I had an ample amount of body hair myself. Funny how straight guys appreciate each other and other men as much as I do. We shared a few stories for about a half an hour, when I told him I'd enjoy his cum shot on my chest & beard. He was more than happy to oblige and he lost his jock and got closer to ejaculate on me. Dang, that was hot feeling his cum shoot onto the upper half of my body and admiring his ample chest & body hair. They had one more day, and on the next day he drove up again, noticing he was sweating quite a bit, I suggested that we take a shower together. Midway, I said that I had only peed on myself and if he wanted to, to drain himself on me; I was game. It was incredibly exciting and we both beat off for each other again, I got to feel his erect cock and run my fingers through his chest hair and through his beard. They had to move down the street the next day and we've never met up again, but...what a great memory - Steven