After five difficult months in an apartment that I had moved to, I was fed up. There always seemed to be one or other problem, and getting it fixed was always an ordeal. I gave my required one months’ notice and decided to move on. Two weeks later when I started panicking, I saw a ‘To Let’ sign on an apartment complex that I had always admired when driving by. I phoned the number and spoke to Costa. That evening I drove over to view the apartment. It was a two-storey block with ten apartments, five upstairs, and five downstairs.

Costa and his son Dimitri owned and managed this block. They lived in the corner unit of the building on the ground floor, and the apartment that I was viewing was next to theirs. Costa attended to me upon my arrival as Dimitri was sorting out a plumbing problem, at one of their other buildings. Costa was a large jovial man in his mid-fifties. He stood around my height, five feet ten inches tall, but that is where our similarities ended.

Costa weighed at least two hundred and fifty pounds, as opposed to my skinny one hundred and fifty pounds. He was almost totally bald and had a beard in serious need of a trim. Although bulky, he was not flabby. He appeared to have meaty moobs which I would have loved to see uncovered. He was attractive and rather hairy if his arms were anything to go by. Above all, he sweated profusely, which turned me on incredibly.

I have to digress at this point my story and admit to having a sweat fetish. At sixteen I attended a school with a guy who suffered from hyperhidrosis. Grant, the boy in question, literally had to bathe three times a day. He changed his underwear and shirts after each shower. He had a huge complex about his condition, and to make matters worse was allergic to most deodorants. Our friendship eventually developed into a sexual relationship.

Off-putting as I found his condition initially, I later developed an obsession with it. When we arrived at his home for our trysts after school, I would beg him not to shower before we had sex. A year later he and his family moved on and we lost contact. Subsequently, I became aroused whenever I found myself in the company of somebody suffering from this condition.

Back to my story:

Costa showed me around the apartment which was beautifully maintained. Regrettably, it was twenty-five per cent more expensive than I was hoping to pay. Seeing the glum look on my face Costa dropped his price by fifteen per cent. Jokingly he said, “We can later find a solution for you to make up the difference, in one way or the other.” I wasn’t sure but could have sworn that he had a horny look in his eyes. He also made to promise, not to mention what I would be paying to any of the other tenants.

Following him back to his apartment to do the paperwork, I ogled the two large damp patches under his arms. His odour was starting to drive me crazy. Inside his apartment, there was a stunning masculine hum that permeated the entire place. When he apologized for his sweaty disposition I told him it didn’t bother me at all, adding, “I actually like it.” His face lit up, and once again there was a lascivious look in his eyes. After signing he gave me the keys to the apartment. Although I was only taking occupation two weeks later, he said he did not mind if I started moving my furniture in sooner.

Leaving elated, I had a good feeling about my new abode. If I could occasionally get a whiff Costa’s aroma, that would be a treat in itself. The look in his eyes during our interaction also played on my mind. Maybe my new landlord would finally quench my thirst, after years of waiting for a new Grant in my life. On the weekend, I began to move my meagre possessions to my new home. Fortunately, a work colleague with a pickup and trailer offered to give me a hand. I was determined to complete the transition by Sunday, and by noon that day was fully ensconced in my new surroundings.

At around three p.m., I heard someone uttering my name, Marius, from the front door. There was no doubt that I was finally meeting Dimitri. Dimitri had a slightly receding hairline, but his short black hair was thick and glistened healthily. He had medium length sideburns and a neatly cropped moustache. He was fairly stocky and of a similar height to his dad, but weighed at least fifty pounds less. Looking at him, one could clearly see what Costa must have looked like at twenty-five years of age. Dimitri had popped by my place to introduce himself, en route to visit a friend. Having just showered and sporting a light-weight jacket, I could not see if Dimitri had inherited his dad’s sweaty condition.

Glancing at a gay newspaper that I had left on a table, Dimitri asked outright if I was gay. After nodding yes, he warned me about his dad. Smiling naughtily, he told me that Costa liked boys and was extremely horny, advising me to keep his dad at arm’s length. He warned me if I failed in this respect, Costa would be all over me like a rash. Laughing, I said that I would heed his advice. Little did Dimitri realize that his words were like music to my ears. Cheekily, I asked if he also liked boys. Grinning, he said that he preferred ladies, but mischievously added that alcohol could sometimes bend the rules. He left shortly after.

At around eight p.m., on Tuesday evening, I heard a knock at my door.

Suddenly there was a knock at my door. After drying my face with a dishtowel, I opened to find Dimitri, who had come to fetch his dad for a meeting with a tenant. Closing the door after they left, I felt like screaming. Costa did not return later, and I did not see him again until Friday evening. When he arrived on Friday at eight p.m., he told me that he had instructed Dimitri not to disturb us under any circumstances. Before I could offer coffee, I was directed towards my bedroom.

En route he told me, “Papa is going to give his baby a good fucking tonight.”

After stripping, I finally got a good look at papa. His moobs were epic and through the mass of hair on his chest I could see his huge dark nipples. I had never seen so much pubic hair on a man in my life. His fat uncut cock was literally drowning in a forest of fuzz.

“Do you like papa?” he asked.

My reply was a simple, “Yes.” Lunging forward, I started sucking one of his nipples as he stroked my head. My hands then slid under his armpits into the marvellous humidity.

Having sucked on both nipples, I nudged his upper left arm with my head. Costa lifted his arm before my head nestled into his damp armpit. The smell and wetness almost drove me out of my mind. I licked like a dog enjoying a plate of gravy. As Costa groaned, his hand cupped my head, encouraging my fervour. The other armpit followed, and I was literally drowning with lust as I continued to lap on my second moist treasure.

Smearing my head into this cave of wonder, he said, “Clean papa, you dirty little bitch.”

I mumbled a muffled, “Yes, papa.”

Glutted on his armpits, my body was pushed down, and my head was pulled into his soggy pubic region. Lustily, I plundered the dankness of this new treasure-trove. Licking his sweaty balls and cock excitedly, his fat knob located my mouth. Clamping my head in his meaty hands, I got an animated face-fucking.

Minutes later, he blasted a torrent of cum into my anxious drooling mouth. Costa then lay on the bed and ordered me to clean him. Having performed my duty, I begged him to pull his legs up so that I could worship at his final trophy wetness. I slurped Costa’s crevice before locating his pucker in a jungle of fur. As I licked and prodded with my tongue, he growled with pleasure. He writhed in ecstasy as I nibbled on his knot, uttering a barrage of, “Fuck yeses’.”

Overcome with lust, he got up, and grabbing my body, threw me face down on the bed. In a flash he was on me, enveloping us in his clammy essence. Forcing my legs apart with his knees, he impaled his beefy dick straight into me. Flopping onto my body, he began thrusting with intensity. I could hardly breathe as his body gyrated on my small frame. With rivulets of his sweat pouring over me, I pleaded with him to fuck the living shit out of me. He took this instruction to heart and pounded me with determination. After a second volcanic load erupted into me, he rolled off my body and commanded another cleaning.

I did not have to be asked twice and attended to my duties with enthusiasm. As Dimitri had forewarned, there was no end to his horny father. After drinks in the kitchen, I was soon on my back getting another butt-fucking from papa. More sweat and masculine redolence encompassed our bodies. I was in seventh heaven as he swathed me with his intoxicating vapour. Papa pulverized me with gusto, making me cry like a sex-starved bitch in heat. Sadly our session had finally ended. After he left, I was exhausted and would count the seconds to our next meeting.

Costa became the ‘rash’ his son had spoken of, and I was an acolyte in Costa’s temple of perspiration. Three weeks later, Dimitri visited me on a Thursday evening, the night Costa always got together with his gambling buddies. Dimitri wasn’t intoxicated but we did have sex. I ushered him through his father’s routine and he loved it. I also discovered that he shared his father’s sweaty condition. From nothing, I was now getting a double helping of my favourite obsession.

Dimitri was not as good as his dad, initially, but over the following year, he grew in leaps and bounds. The added pounds that he put on during this period also helped a great deal. To add to my joy, I frequently became the focus of a father and son threesome. They never engaged one another sexually during these sessions, but being spit-roasted by them was fantastic.

Swamped in a damp mass of writhing hairy bodies was incredible. The aroma and humidity as my body was commandeered was mindboggling. They constantly swapped positions as they harassed, humped, humphed, and hummed. The abundance of perspiration, verbal abuse, and body cleansing, was a complete mind-fuck for me.

I was crazy about my apartment!