A Neighbor in Need

I snapped a pic of our sexy neighbor Mack stretched-out on his back on the lounge eight feet or so from mine; he was completely naked, on his back with his arms neck behind his head, both his dick and his closed eyes skyward and glistening in the sun.

Text to Kent:  “Please may I?”

Text back from my husband:  “Of course.  But  1) He looks so peaceful; and he looks like he needs some peace more than a piece.  2) Since I know that won’t stop you (and wouldn’t stop me) leave some for when I get home.”

I looked back at Mack; a breathtaking body on my fifty-three year old neighbor.  I reminded myself to re-check my own fifty-three year old bod.

Another text from Kent:  “3) Never knew he was a grower because he’s usually such a shower!”

I laughed out loud, and it startled Mack’s doze.  He looked through sleepy eyes across at me; then his whole body startled and he brought his big hands down and tried to cover his boner.  “Jesus Christ!  I’m so sorry Al!”  His head threw back and forth looking about.  “Not sure what I did with my other towel; Damn!  Really sorry about this.  Mind if I borrow yours?   Toss it over?” he asked with an overly urgent glare and a nod toward my own pool towel on my lounge.

I didn’t tell Mack that his own second towel was behind him on the lounge; the only thing I wanted that sexy slab of meat to move was his hands.  He put his second towel there following my lead when we got out of the pool.  I’d enjoyed the water streaming through his dense black body fur and off his long fat dick and heavy hairy sac when he got out of the pool.

The Burnstags are our neighbors across the street.  Mack Burnstag is the father of two teenagers with his wife Lesley.   Lesley has befriended us a bit more than we’d have liked; she’s basically our telephone fag hag and calls us most every night half (or more) drunk and dishing and complaining in equal doses.   

Mack is a very healthy early retiree at 53 and spends the majority of his time playing tennis, surfing, and biking.  We play tennis with him and bike with him; he’s also invited us to surf but neither my husband Kent nor I have taken that up.  Besides if it’s a choice between ogling his fine taut sweaty body after tennis in the showers at the club and having him saltwater-rinsed and suited well that one’s an obvious selection.  He’s also pretty delicious in sweat-soaked bike shorts which complement his large bulge.

Kent and I swap tools with Mack and help him with the occasional chore at his property; as he does for us.  He’s very much a guy’s guy in the straight dad sense and more comfortable with his (straight) buddies than anywhere else; he befriended a gay couple but I don’t know how that happened exactly.

One of Lesley’s constant bitching subjects is Mack.  To be honest the Mack she describes and the Mack we know sound like different men altogether; but it’s their marriage and who knows how much of their strife is really his doing as she contends.  What we do know is she’s a dumb cunt; sorry ladies out there if any are reading this or men reading are offended on behalf of our twin-chromosomed species-mates.  But they exist and she’s one; often maddeningly so.  She’s also zany and irreverent and always good for some laughs beyond the usual at her expense; at least in between the criticisms and bitches.

School ended last week; but her spoiled daughter made the case that the last week wasn’t important since their exams were over.  Lesley took-off with both the “kids” to visit her parents in Detroit; the other being their nineteen year old unemployed son. 

Earlier I’d invited Mack over for lunch when I noticed his truck was there and being that he was all on his own as was I today.  Kent was giving an all-day seminar at the local university; “exercising his degree” as he called it.

I’d texted Mack just before lunch-time: “Hey bud see you’re at home.”

Mack’s reply: “LOL  Keeping tabs?  Seriously need help with something?”

Me: “LOL  Nah just wondered if you wanted to head over for some lunch, hang by the pool.”

Mack: “So weird.  Was just thinking of going up to the club to grab a sandwich and hanging by the pool there but I’d much rather hang with you guys.  Now?

I told Mack I was solo and he was fine with that being as he was also.  He arrived about five minutes later looking hot in a t-shirt that looked like it was tailored to his lanky muscular torso, a pair of board shorts that looked like the same tailor appreciated his narrow waist, bubble butt, and big bulge, and walking on old-style rubber thin-strap flip-flops like my husband and I like.  They complemented his big hairy feet.  I was  shirtless and barefoot out on the patio with the grill just fired-up; Mack kicked off the flip-flops and pulled his shirt over his head.

“Beautiful out here.  I wouldn’t want to be over-dressed,” he’d said looking out at the lake but also taking in the privacy of our lanai and pool.  Then what he was seeing hit him and he’d turned to me with a look of wonder.  “Man this, your lanai and pool, is completely private; nobody can see in here except from across the lake with binoculars and then only from about here up!”  He put his big hand out parallel to the deck and touched his abs.  “In the pool nothing!” he continued with profound appreciation.  One of Lorine’s constant bitches is that their back yard is right on the fairway; the cart path is actually their property line. 

Mack and I have one notable of many things in common; he’s had open-heart surgery and also has a torso scar.  The difference is Mack’s was one surgery (valve replacement) and his scar is neater and shorter; mine are a wide racing stripe swath that I’m working on getting less self-conscious of.  When he’d put his hand along his abs his scar ended inches above it.  I had a twinge of self-consciousness even though we’d seen each other’s bodies in the showers and lockers at the club hundreds of times.

I turned back to the grill while I recollected my confidence about my scarred body; Kent had been working me about that for two and a half years since the accident that led to my surgeries.  “I can’t claim strategy for having this great situation out here; we chose the house for price and because it had been updated inside,” I said as I uncovered some chicken breasts on a plate and put them on the fire.  “But when we realized that fringe benefit it was a sealed deal,” I told him.  Then my lizard brain took over.  “This is the most clothes I’ve had on out here in months!” I told him after I’d turned back to him.

Mack laughed.  “Sorry I didn’t realize this fine establishment had a dress code.”

I played along.  “Every once in a while we change things up and wear clothes at home.  I didn’t mind grabbing these after we texted,” I told him and gestured to my jams.  I made certain my gesture brushed my own prominent (if I say so myself) bulge and Mack’s eyes took note I saw.

I left it at that, got the chicken grilled, we dished-up some home-made potato salad from a friend who visited on Memorial Day, and we chatted about renovations to the club, club politics, neighborhood politics, annoying neighbors, and ultimately about his annoying wife.  Unlike when Lesley unleashes venomous criticisms about her husband, his commentary about her was more wistful about how they’d grown apart, how they had little in common anymore, how she was always critical now, how she was always riding him to do or not do something.  There was a silence when he stopped; I’d been listening and didn’t have much to contribute.  Then he startled me when he added, “Wouldn’t be so bad if I was still getting laid or even just head; hell even a hand-job!”

My lizard brain and my dick both got very interested all of a sudden.  I laughed uneasily.

“You laugh man; but I’m dead serious!  The last time I got laid I don’t even remember; I just know it wasn’t since I’ve known you.”

I didn’t know where to go with that; my dick sure did but my big head and my heart were on a different path.  Mack’s one of the nicest guys you’d ever meet and he’s unhappy; I felt for him.  Actually I felt guilty because I was also thinking how easily I could solve his sexual frustration and at the same time introduce him to the ease of sex the way it should be not the way it is with women; so much work and so little reward.

“Man so sorry.  You spoil me with a meal like this and all I do is bitch.  I’m seriously grateful; Lesley basically left frozen pizza and not much else.”  He wiped his mouth with his napkin and threw it on his plate signaling he was finished.  “I’ll help you clean-up and get the heck out of your hair. Let you enjoy this great pool and site.”

“Clean-up is nothing with these paper plates and plastic.  And the kitchen is done.   I’ll get us some more water,” I said as I’d grabbed his plate and stacked it on mine and got up.  “And then we’ll relax in the pool; you mentioned you’d been thinking about some pool time.”

“Really Al I don’t want to impose.  But man it sure is tempting having all this privacy.  And having your own pool.  We never put one in even though we talked about doing it when the kids were old enough,” he added looking out.

”I’ve got nothing going this afternoon; and unless you have something later … “

I went inside, disposed of the trash, and brought out some cold bottles of water in fresh can cozies to keep them cool.  Mike thanked me.  “Thanks Al.  Thanks for the great lunch.  Thanks for listening to me whine and complain.”  Then he grinned a guilty grin.  “And thanks for putting on the shorts; not that it’s a big deal guys being naked but I can’t remember the last time I ate lunch with my hairy balls hanging out.”

And nice big hairy low-hangers they were!  And from what he’d said probably hadn’t had those cum tanks getting any attention for way too long.  And that big floppy dick of his probably hadn’t felt anything but his own palm and his underwear in way too long.  That veiny fat dick with the wide helmet …

Ooops! I really shouldn’t be thinking about him that way.  Particularly with a tightening occurring in my own jams; and I was commando so really needed to get that nipped in the bud right there!

“Well it’s probably been too long since you tried it; or skinny-dipping for that matter!”  Al really?

Mack laughed.  “If that’s a dare I’m not one to shy away.”

To reply I pulled down my jams and took a running leap into the pool.  It wasn’t a dive and it wasn’t a cannonball; but it was designed to be fast enough and for my body to be a mass of moving limbs and to detract from my semi-bone.  When I surfaced and looked back Mack was making his approach; that fat dick and heavy balls swinging as he neared and then dove in gracefully.

“Nice temp,” he said about ten feet from me.  Then he turned and started swimming.

After about ten laps Mike stopped.  I’d found a comfortable perch on the underwater step where I could watch his toned body in motion as he passed each time.

“Not gonna claim that the water doesn’t feel great on my junk!” he said after he’d taken a place on the opposite side hanging with his muscular arms out on the deck and his nips at the water line.  “You and Kent have a great spot here Al.  And not for nothin’ but you’re great neighbors.”

My dick really wanted me to show him just how neighborly we are.

“Thanks for having me over.  I probably would have just gone up to the club and drank too much or gone over to Chance’s and smoked a few bowls too many.”

I knew Mack liked weed; it was one of Lesley’s frequent bitches.  His best bud Chance was pretty far gone; intellectually non-functional from constant, excessive pot highs.  “Well one thing’s certain; you’d have kept your pants on at the club bar.”

“Or at Chance’s,” he laughed.  “He gets major horny when he smokes so no chances taken!”

I’d met Chance and his wife Terry.  She was a sloppier drunk than Lesley; Kent and I had both gotten a vibe from him but it was imprecise and we passed it off as part of the high he was on.  To Mack’s comment I thought, If smoking weed gets Chance horny then he’s super-horny twenty-four seven!

“I’m going to relax in the sun for a while.”  At that hour of the afternoon the part of the deck where the lounges sit is spotty with moving shade dapples from the many palms which surround the pool area on the west.  I’d never had a sun-burn here unlike in our direct sun pool deck in New Jersey.  “You’re welcome to stay as long as you want and help yourself to anything if I doze off; because I usually do in the filtered sun and the breeze.”

I was out and walking toward the towel cabinet and got two and put two on each of two of the lounges.  Like urinal etiquette I’d not chosen two close together.

Mike got out and stretched his magnificent furred bod in the bright sun; the water in that fur and running down him glistened.  The water that ran off his fat dick helmet caught the sun and looked like he was pissing.  TOO HOT!

“Man this is really living,” Mack said and arranged one of the towels and reclined and stretched on the lounge.  I had to look away and think of famine and war to not bone-up any more than I was.

That’s how we got to my text to Kent a while later.  I’d awakened to see Mack asleep and at attention. 

There were points where the right thing to do is eclipsed by the fates throwing the unavoidable in its place.  “There’s one right behind you,” I answered Mack’s request for a towel as he barely covered his hard-on with both hands.  “But dude no worries; it happens.”  I paused and let him think about it; but I knew I was going for it.  “Besides from what you said it’s almost unavoidable.  A man’s equipment needs to be used … and not just by him.”

Mack sort of grimaced at that and then began relaxing his upper body and his arms.  Finally he slowly pulled his hands away and let them fall beside him.

That was great because now not even his elbows on the lounge’s arms blocked my full-frontal view of him.  Mack had put his head back and so wasn’t meeting my eyes; and that gave me no hesitation in continuing to ogle him.  His wife really was a dumb-ass to not be all over that!

“Mack what you need is a gay guy on the side.  A guy who couldn’t get enough of you but didn’t want anything but your dick.”

I almost was ready to intensify my foray because he hadn’t said anything for so long; and then a single bead of pre-cum emerged from his fat tip and caught the sun like a diamond.  Whoa!  Struck a nerve!

He slowly raised his arms and crossed his hands behind his head.  His pits were sweaty; the dark tufts moist and inviting.  I thought about doing something to guard against the rush of blood to my dick being obvious but decided against; I was all-in on this.  

He spoke in a lower voice.  “When we were in college the frat always had guys who did just that for any of the brothers who needed a hand.”  He guffawed at his poor choice of words.  “Well not a hand, mostly!”  He laughed uneasily and then went back to his softly-delivered narrative.  “Not gonna say I didn’t … benefit from those … services on occasion.”  He stopped and sighed.

I moved over to Mack’s lounge and I sat down and put my hand on the inside of Mack’s sweaty hairy muscled thigh.  He started only the slightest bit when my hand touched his hot moist skin and then he looked down at my hand and then up at me.  My fingers were millimeters from his heavy hairy sac; I could feel their heat and imagined their smell and taste.  “Al I’m a married man.  I’ve never cheated on Lesley.”

I had to fight the impulse to break out in a laugh that would echo across the lake.  Instead I said, “I’m too old to be a frat bro or a frat bitch; but I’m a world-class cocksucker.  And how is it cheating to give you something you need that she doesn’t want?  It’s just sex; it has nothing to do with her.”

Mack’s cock twitched and a large blob of pre emerged and ran down the side of that fat helmet.  “You’re married too,” he reminded me unnecessarily.  “Is that stuff really true about gay guys and not being monogamous?”

I looked at him evenly; I knew he knew about Jef … or he was the only one who didn’t.  “What’s true … ” I said and started rubbing his plum-sized hairy cum-tanks.

“Awwwwww Jesus!” he gasped and threw his head back.

“What’s true is that you’re a fucking HOT man, you have needs, and we’re here now.  I don’t want anything more than to get you off … and then to go play tennis or have dinner at the club or to help you repair your gutter just like always.  Kent and I are solid; we’ve had a third for a while who just found his own boyfriend and we’ve had both of them.  And yeah we play occasionally apart.  I already texted and got his approval.  His surprised glance lasted only a moment.

I was rubbing and gently squeezing his balls and taint and he was loving it; the flow of pre was nothing short of amazing.  I wanted so badly to dive onto that gnurly pole and suck until his babies choked me.  But I held back so that he could enjoy this.

“When’s the last time anyone told you that you’re sexy?  Or that your dick and balls are huge and beautiful; magnificent even?”

“Funny about that.  Lesley didn’t even tell me that when we were young and dating.  In fact the last time someone said that who wanted me was one of those frat fag — “. He stopped abruptly.  “Shit! Sorry! I didn’t mean to use that word Al.  I don’t use that word!”

I reached around with my other hand and gave his throbbing dick a few long strokes to show him the only hard feeling were in his hard-on.  “Fuck man fuck that feels … incredible.”

“You truly have a magnificent penis Mack,” I told him as I slow-stroked it and gazed deliberately with longing.

“Yours is bigger,” he protested.

“And Kent’s is even bigger.  So the fuck what?  Yours is way bigger than average and you hang heavy too which sets you up for a lot of envy in the locker room; just sayin’.”

“Well … “ he said and hissed when I rubbed his balls more firmly.  Les thinks my junk is ugly.”

“Has she given her own plumbing a critical look lately?” I cracked.  “But forget about her criticisms; you deserve praise.  You’re hot Mack; head to toe you’re a stud.”

“She keeps telling me and Rowan that we should do the world a favor and shave our body hair particularly our armpits and our pubic region.”  Rowan was their nineteen year-old retarded son.  He had the mental capacity of a twelve or thirteen year-old boy but he was a grown man with a physique much like his father’s; I knew from the club locker room.

I let my hand drift when I was at the bottom of his shaft and ran it through his thick jet black thatch around the base.  Then I took a chance and let my hand drift up over his cut groin and  hard abs.  Some straight guys freak at anything anywhere resembling affection or intimacy; Mack just moaned through a long exhale.

“Mmmmmmmmmmm that feels so good.  Feels so good just to have someone touching me.”

“You’re such a stud Mack.  Your hard body feels so fucking good,” I told him and let my hand stray upward over his hard pecs and harder nipples.  I never stopped rubbing his balls though.

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm,” he moaned longer when I grazed his nips.  “Thanks Al.  I’m glad someone thinks that.  And MAN the way you make my balls feel!”

“You just relax and enjoy it for as long as you want to,” I told him.

“Ohhhhhhhhhh,” he groaned when I worked his sac with a bit more force and let two of my fingers tease his taint.  “I’ve spent my life avoiding any heavy contact involving my balls and you’re pushing my limits but it feels fanfuckingtastic!”

I pinched one nipple then flicked it then twisted all to prolonged moans from him.  When I did the other the moan was louder and longer.  Okay so Mack’s a leftie, I thought.  I took another chance and bent to lick and suck his left nipple and his reaction was intense both audibly and by a huge flow of pre-cum down his veiny shaft.

I kept up the nip-work and managed to awkwardly get my right arm around to return to long slow strokes on his fat veiny dick and still played with his balls with my left hand.    “Oh god Al that’s more attention than Mack Junior has had for years man.  It won’t be long until I cum just so you know.”

I knew it was time and traded my right hand for my mouth and swallowed that big dick whole.

“Holy guacamole!” he shouted and his entire body tensed-up.  But his dick-head hadn’t flared more nor his shaft thickening even more so I knew he wasn’t on the edge yet.  “I haven’t had my dick swallowed since college!”

I uh huhed around his fat hard-on and that got a favorable reaction also.  “Jesus I’m not gonna last long.”

Considering that a challenge I used my mouth and both hands to work him up and back him off several times.  He was swearing, laughing, panting, and sweating, and his body was jerking.  “My god are you ever going to let me unload?” he whined.  “Not that I EVER want this to stop.  Not even the frat dick-suckers and butt-boys could do it like this.”  I filed away “butt-boys” for possible future reference.

I got serious again but this time used what I’d learned the past few edge-ups to bring him up slower; something like incremental edging.  His body was vibrating like he was having a an epileptic fit; I knew that was my cue.  I attacked that head mercilessly and really worked his balls hard.

“Oh fuck man oh fuck that’s … oh fuck man I have no control … oh fuck oh FUCK!” he was babbling.

I didn’t stop and was going for the kill.  At some point Mack brought both his hands to my head and I hoped he’d skull-fuck me but instead he was trying to pull me off him.

“Al I can’t stop. I’m gonna … “

I resisted his attempts and sucked and tongue-massaged his hard-on; the head was flared wider, the shaft was like iron, and the veins felt thicker and prominent in my mouth.  I also had a tight hold on his balls and manipulated them roughly while I pulled them.

“JESUS FUCK LAST CHANCE AL!” he shouted.  And then I felt a hard blast in my throat as his body convulsed and he grunted and groaned like he was in intense pain.

The shots continued and I swallowed every drop.  He was writhing and moaning and began begging; I took the latter as a request for more and maintained my suction and tongue-work and ball-work. The shots subsided and his yelling pleas got louder until he finally got a foot up and onto my shoulder and pushed me back.  “I.  CAN’T.  TAKE.  ANY.  MORE!” he howled as I was propelled back.

I stumbled off the lounge and onto my feet; my own dick was dripping with pre and waving like a club.  I was also sweating like a pig from my own exertions.  Mack had his head back and his arm over his eyes muttering flattering assessments of my work.

I looked at the pool and made a bee-line and dove in; the coolness of the water on my over-heated skin was welcome if the added stimulation of the water movement on my frustrated dick was not.  “Come on in Mack; cool off!”

“I don’t think I can move,” he groaned.  But he was getting to his feet and giving me a beautiful view of his turgid dick and sweat-slicked muscles in motion.  “Maybe I should rinse the sweat off in the shower over there before I join you?” he asked at the edge of the deck.

“Fuck that; that’s what filters are for.  Besides I dove in sweatier than you are (debatable but reason to ogle his body more to see if I was right) and with a ton of pre-cum hanging off my knob.”

Mack had smiled when I started my answer but then looked concerned.  “I’m sorry; I didn’t think of leaving you worked-up like that.  It’s just I … well I’m not … well … “

“Mack get the fuck in the water and cool off buddy!” I snapped.

He did a standing dive and came up a few feet from me already picking-up where he’d left off.  “Really Al that was fucking amazing … for me but … “

“But nothing!” I quickly stopped him.  “That was fucking amazing for me now just stop.  You deserve that every day bud.  And any time you need some relief you’re welcome to it.”  He started to say something but I stopped him by continuing.  “Kent won’t be home until dinner time.  Interested in seeing if there’s an open court and playing a set or two?”

“Seriously?  Just like that?  You suck me off, I leave you blue-balled, and we go play tennis?”

I was already out of the pool and going for my phone.  After I pushed the speed-dial for the courts I looked back.  “Yeah, Mack.  It’s just sex bud.  And Kent will take care of me when he gets home.”  The club answered and they had a court; I told them we’d be there in twenty minutes.  “Go shower and pick me up in your golf cart in fifteen minutes,” I told him.

“Wow okay!” he said and scrambled to get his board shorts, underwear (only a repressed married guy!), shirt, and flip-flops.  He turned as he reached the back door.  “Really just that simple?”

I looked at the poor married guy with pity.  “Yeah Mack just that simple.  Like your frat faggots.  Everyone gets what they want or need.  Now go shower up and get back here in ten minutes!”

I kicked his ass at tennis handily by the way; usually he’s a very tough opponent but his game was just not up to par.  It made me wonder that all that abstinence before a game nonsense that coaches tell you may really be onto something! 

What I was sure of was that I intended to unload my neighbor again.