The person on the other end said "Hi, is this Emmanuel Salazar? I'm looking for someone to do my roofing." It was a female's voice. She sounded young, around her early 20's in age.
Stuart was dumfounded. Was this a joke? A cruel prank? How would someone know this number, he just got it new! And who was this Emmanuel Salazar the lady was asking for? Stuart had never heard of him in his life! Stuart was about to tell the woman she had the wrong number, but he couldn't stop himself from saying into the phone "Si Senorita! This is Emmanuel!". The voice that came out was sort of high pitched, and had a distinct Mexican accent to it. Stuart covered his mouth after realizing what he had said.
"Oh good!" said the voice on the other end, "My boyfriend's parents recommended me to you. They said you did a really good job at roofing. Would you be able to do mine for me?".
"Si! I am able to work as soon as tomorrow! I will just need your address to see how big your roof is before I can give a price!" replied Stuart, his voice sounding excited, despite how panicked he actually was.
"Excellent! I live at 254 Sycamore! I'll see you tomorrow! Bye!"
"Adios!" exclaimed Stuart, hanging up the cell phone.
His head was spinning, and Stuart was unable to control his own mouth when he was spoken to. He decided he had better get home before anyone on the street talked to him. Thankfully Stuart lived close to the cellphone store, only a couple blocks away. After a short, uneventful walk, he entered his apartment building, and went into his apartment.
When he entered, he was shocked. The place was a mess. There was garbage on the floor everywhere. Lots of pizza boxes, chip bags, and several beer bottles. "Aye aye aye!" exclaimed Stuart, in his newly acquired accent. He went to the bedroom, and found it in a similar state. The television set was left on, and there was wrestling on on the television. Stuart felt an urge to watch it, despite the fact that he'd never really been into sports on TV before. He stripped out of his hot, itchy clothes, and laid on the bed to watch wrestling. As he watched it, he was shouting profanities at the screen when his favorite wrestler El Libre Grande wasn't winning. However, when El Libre Grande pulled out a victory from behind, Stuart cheered and felt pride.
Stuart was feeling tired, and dirty. He decided it would be a good time for a shower, and then a beer. He grabbed a jockstrap and some socks from his bedroom floor, and went into the bathroom. He ran the hot water from the shower head, and went into the shower. He grabbed shampoo in his hands and lathered it together, and started rubbing it into his head. As he scrubbed his head, the hair thinned out and became black, as well as receded his hairline. He grabbed the face washing liquid and scrubbed it into his face. As he rubbed it along his face, his skin became hard and weathered from labor, and his follicles began to grow course, thick, black hair. Soon, Stuart was sporting a thick, big, bushy, beard.
Stuart grabbed the big bar of soap, and spread it all over his body. Wherever the bar touched his skin, it became more muscular, and like his face, weathered and aged. When he rubbed it on his chest, arms, legs, and even some of his back, dark hair poured out of his follicles, giving him a very hairy, hirsute look.
Stuart took the bar and rubbed it around his pubic area. A huge, black bush of pubic hair sprouted from the follicles around his penis, and on his scrotum. When Stuart rubbed his penis with the bar of soap, it grew to a substantial 10 inches hard, and thickened so it was nice and wide. He dropped the soap, and formed a ring with one of his big, meaty hands. He started to play with sticking his dick head into the ring, while thinking of hot Mexican chicas. His lustful jacking off soon ended in ejaculation, as 6 loads of creamy white cum splattered against the wall. Stuart turned off the water and exited the shower.
Stuart shook when he left the shower to get water out of his furry hair, and then dried himself with the towel. He put the jockstrap over his semi-hard cock, and put on the big wool socks. He saw his wallet on the counter by the sink, and looked in it. There wasn't much money, a couple ten dollar bills, but he had his roofer's license in there. His name was there, Emmanuel Salazar, and his picture, a big, bearded, man's man, was there too. He patted his gut and smiled, looking at it. Emmanuel went out to the fridge and got out a beer, going back to his room to watch more wrestling.