Page 7 of The Neighbor

Danny opened the door looking at me like a trapped wild animal.

“Don’t worry, I’ll sort things out with my kids,” I tried to reassure him. “But it’s best if you go home now.”

“Right,” he said, emerging from the toilet. “Um, here,” he added, offering me a pair of mesh basketball shorts. “They’re yours. I grabbed them by mistake.”

“Thanks,” I said and put the shorts on, finally making myself decent. We stared at each other for a few beats, feeling like we should say something, but not knowing what. Since no words came, I walked him to the front door and bid him an awkward goodbye. I didn’t yet realize just how final that goodbye would be.

8. Danny

Jeff refused to see me while his sons were staying at home, saying we should pause our trysts as long as they were around, and a week flew by. A long, sad, empty week of hollow jerking off, without the taste and smell and feel of Jeff’s big cock. By the end of it, the August was already over and it was time for me to return to the uni for my final year.

I went to Jeff’s house one more time before I left town, just to see him again, but it was Matt who opened the door and said his dad was busy. It was plain as day that Matt didn’t like the idea of his father fucking a guy his age—especially one he used to play with as a kid. I tried pleading with him, asking him to let me in, but it was useless. I couldn’t shout or make a scene because my parents were still unaware of what was going on right under their noses. Although they started to suspect something was off, seeing how miserable I was all of a sudden.

“No more going to the gym, huh?” my dad observed one time.

It seemed I had even started losing weight without Jeff’s cum to sustain me. I tried telling myself to let it go and stop being clingy; our relationship was a temporary thing right from the very start. I had no claim on him; he had no real interest in me. So I went away without saying goodbye, rejected and brokenhearted, to start a new semester in hopes of forgetting him.

Maybe it was good that it ended when it did, I tried to console myself. Before I fell even more in love with him. Maybe this was for the best.

But as the seasons changed and months dragged by, I didn’t think less often of Jeff; I thought of him more. I missed him every second of every day, my body feeble without his cock, like a phone missing its charger. I buried myself in my studies, thinking that if I kept my mind busy, I’d stop obsessing over him. I even tried dating other guys, scouring Grindr and Tinder for any half-decent man, but no one truly interested me, no one could compare to him. So when December came, and I packed to go back home for the Christmas holidays, all I could think about was seeing Jeff again.

Pathetic, I know. But love makes fools of us all or whatever, as the saying goes.

When I finally got back home, itching all over from the need for him, my parents were taken aback by how pale and skinny I looked. Concerned about my health, they started asking questions, searching for the reason why I resembled a malnourished vampire. But no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t tell them the truth, now… could I? My folks were always supportive of me, but I don’t think they would understand this. There was only one thing that could make me feel better, only one cure in the world: Jeff. And not only his cock, magnificent as it was. I wanted all of him. But I would accept anything he was willing to give me, however little that may be. It was still better than nothing, better than not having him in my life at all.

That first evening at home I was gathering my courage, biding my time, and waiting for my chance. Mom and Dad were fussing over me like I was a baby, so there wasn’t a convenient opportunity to sneak out to Jeff’s place anyway. Later that night, after we had a nice family dinner and my parents went to bed, I sat by the window in my room like a lovesick fool, looking at Jeff’s house and watching the snow fall. It was turning the world pristine, covering the rooftops with a soft white blanket. I thought about what I was going to say to Jeff when I see him, imagining us kissing, embracing, and fucking until fatigue finally dragged me off into the dreamland.

The next morning I woke up very early, too jittery to sleep. My parents were still slumbering, and realized it was now or never. Putting on my sweatpants and a hoodie as fast as I could, I tiptoed downstairs and wrapped myself in a warm winter jacket. I snuck out like a thief and ran to Jeff’s house, leaving telltale footsteps in the fresh snow.

As I climbed to his porch where I first saw him naked, smoking a cigarette in the first light of dawn, the scene of that fateful encounter replayed in my mind. He was so confident, so sexy standing right there in the buff, that I felt lightheaded, weak at the knees. I knew even then that he was the perfect man for me, but I didn’t dare hope he would ever return even a fraction of my interest in him.

Now, hope was all I had. Heart thundering in my chest, breaths turning into mist, I knocked at his door. A wreath was hanging there, a symbol of festivity. I might have been too old for Santa, but I still made a wish. Christmas was a time for miracles, right?

After a moment that seemed endless, Jeff opened the door. Wrapped in a fluffy gray bathrobe, scruffy and sexy as ever, he stood there, framed in the winter morning light. Staring at me.

9. Jeff

The end of my relationship with Danny—and I could finally call it that—came more abruptly than I’d planned. But at the time, it seemed like the cleanest way to break things off, so I didn’t fight it. What would be the point, anyway? He was supposed to leave town at the end of the week in any case, so why drag out the inevitable? That’s why I busied myself with my sons, spending all my free time with them so my brain wouldn’t go back to the lusty images of my cock being sucked by a slutty boy next door, or fucking said boy’s sweet ass.

It was when Matt and Tyler went back to college that the real problem began. With the house all to myself again, I was left with the memories of all the things Danny and I had done in it, replaying all the hot sex we’d had everywhere, and I feared my cock might explode like a firecracker. I was whacking off more than I did when I was a teenager, but my hand was not enough. Nothing was. I was so horny I thought I was going mad.

Lonely and desperate, I let one of my buddies set me up with his wife’s friend—a hot divorcee named Pam—and we went on a date a few days later. She was an attractive woman in her late forties, with a teenage daughter and two cats, but somewhat of a bore. It didn’t matter; she could’ve been dull as dishwater for all I cared. Since I hadn’t had a pussy or a nice pair of tits in forever, I was so focused on the prospect of getting in bed with her that nothing else mattered.

Three dates later, the wait was finally over and I was crazy with the pent-up lust. I took Pam to my bed and attacked her breasts with such ferocity that I tore the buttons of her blouse. I squeezed those bouncy boobs in my hand, sucking at her nipples, my other hand already sneaking under her skirt and between her legs to pull down her panties. She was wet and warm down there, but quiet as a mouse, small and barely audible gasps the only sound escaping her lips. Wanting to loosen her up, I rubbed her clit with my finger, then slipped it inside her cunt, but the first thing that struck me was how different it was compared to Danny’s tight hole.

(“Yes, Daddy, come on and fuck me, please hurry up and put it inside me…”)

Angered by that thought, I went down on her, eating her pussy like a starving man. Going even lower, I licked her asshole, which in turn evoked a series of small tremors in her body. When she was dripping wet from my saliva and her own juices, I straddled her and brought my cock to her face. She licked the tip a few times, then turned her head away in silence, letting me know in no uncertain terms that that was all I was going to get in the blowjob department.

Disappointed but still eager to proceed, I put on the condom, positioned myself on top of her, and guided my cock into her cunt with my hand. God, yes—finally. Yet something still didn’t feel quite right. As I started pumping into her, she kept lying there, motionless, squirming only when I picked up the pace, her hands flying to my hips to keep me at bay.

(“Fuck me, Daddy! Fuck me hard!”)

Apologizing, I slowed down, taking care not to shove my cock all the way in. At that point, both of us were more frustrated than horny, and when I finally came it wasn’t very satisfying, only a shadow of the mindblowing orgasms I used to take for granted. I’m pretty sure she didn’t come at all.

“I liked this blouse,” she said later, as she put on the ruined garment, clicking her tongue in annoyance when she couldn’t button it up. I just lay there naked on the crumpled sheets, my face probably as dark as my thoughts.

“I’ll buy you another,” I offered, to no response.

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