My First Home

by Caliban

10 Jun 2020 11389 readers Score 8.9 (614 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt


When I bought my first home I thought I was the cream of the crop. I had been living in an inexpensive apartment up to that point and saving like crazy. With a bit of help from my dad, however, I was able to afford the deposit required and enter the house market. It was a modest suburb, but I didn’t mind. The relief of finally being a house owner was all that I cared about.

On the day I moved in I met my neighbours to my left. Harold and Clair were the two biggest nerds I had ever met, and I could not help thinking that they had been very lucky finding one another. They were rather sweet, nevertheless, and her cappuccino muffins were absolutely delicious.

I did not meet my neighbours to the right till Saturday morning. My jaw almost hit the ground when I saw my topless hunky neighbour mowing his lawn. Observing me, he walked over to the fence and introduced himself as Tristan, before welcoming me to the neighbourhood. Tristan ticked every one of my boxes. He was big, broad, butch, and beautiful, the personification of what a man should look like. No sooner had we begun chatting before his wife joined us. Debbie, his wife, was a poster girl for petite pretty blonds. I was summarily invited over to them drinks that afternoon, at five p.m.

After arriving at the appointed time, we sat around in their lounge chatting. After ascertaining that I was single, Debbie immediately started searching her mind for possible ladies that they could introduce me to. In a flash, I had one of those ‘what the fuck’ moments, figuring that the strain of Debbie’s matchmaking skills would be more than I could bear and told them outright that I was gay. Interestingly, Tristan did not seem particularly perplexed by my revelation. After a pleasant visit, I returned home an hour later.

Twice during the following week I heard arguing from next door. Our bedrooms faced one another’s and it was clear that Tristan and Debbie were at loggerheads about some or other issue. These spats became the norm after that and on one or two occasions, I even had to make use of earplugs. My relationship, however, remained cordial with them and we always indulged in the odd friendly chat when seeing one another.

Two months after I moved in, I stopped seeing Debbie and simply presumed that she was away on a holiday of sorts. A week later on Saturday, I struck up a conversation with Tristan as we both tended our gardens. Presumptuously, I asked when Debbie would be back from holiday. I was then told that she had packed her bags and moved out. When I asked if he was okay, he replied that he was doing fine before adding that the bust-up had been a long time coming.

“Well, if you need to unload, I’m a good listener,” I retorted, in a neighbourly fashion.

“Does that mean you’re inviting me to dinner?” Tristan then impishly joked.

“Sure, why don’t you come around at six,” I replied, having been put on the spot.

After he arrived we sat in the lounge talking. “Please don’t think I’ve been spying on you, but you seem to be getting as little action in the bedroom as I am,” Tristan said.

I went on to tell him about my previous liaison, which had ended a few months before I moved into the house. I further informed him that I had decided to take a break from relationships, for the time being.

Tristan then revealed that the reason for their bust-up was that Debbie had become completely frigid. They had only been married for a year and sex had always been a problem in their relationship. Debbie had ‘saved’ herself for marriage and this, according to Tristan, was the worst mistake he had ever made, because their honeymoon had been a complete disaster. Debbie found sex with him extremely uncomfortable and constantly accused him of being a bully.

Observing the perplexed look on my face he went on to explain, “I am over-endowed Sandy and Debbie simply found my dick much too large for her.”

“Did you ever seek medical advice on the matter?” I asked.

“Sure, but it didn’t help. Debbie was given tablets to help her relax, but they weren’t very effective. Then, the following day she would moan and groan like a stuffed pig, accusing me of causing her pain,” he replied, before concluding, “I was sure that most of her antics were simply in the mind and if I read the doctor correctly, he thought so too.”

After a lengthy pause he ruefully added, “I never thought I would have to continue being a wanker after marriage, but that’s the only action I ever get nowadays.”

Dinner was soon ready and after dishing up we sat at the dining table. Thankfully, the conversation turned to gardening as we ate. After dinner, we once more moved to the lounge and continued talking. When we began consuming our fifth beer, Tristan stunned me by asking, “Do you like giving or receiving in bed?”

Almost spluttering, I awkwardly answered, “Both.”

“I think that being gay must be the answer,” he stated, before continuing, “The best fuck I ever had was with a girl at school. She was a real hoe and liked being fucked by two guys at one time. She particularly loved anal and even let me have a go with my thick knob, from time to time. Don’t get me wrong… pussy is great, but having your dick strangled by a tight butt-hole definitely takes first prize,” he emphatically concluded.

Stunned and uncomfortable with the conversation, I simply smiled.

“Have you ever had a really thick cock up your arse?” Tristan then asked.

“Yeah, once,” I gingerly replied.

“How big was the dick?” he inquired.

“Well… I didn’t measure it, but it was quite impressive,” I replied.

After a brief silence, Tristan said, “I’m nine by nine.”

“Excuse me?” I queried, somewhat bewildered.

“Nine inches long and nine inches round,” was his reply.

“Fuck, that’s big, bro. No wonder Debbie was so traumatized. Did you ever have any other women bail on you?” I asked.

“Yeah, two others,” he replied, impishly. Again we sat quietly for a short while.

His next bit of communication, however, almost gave me a heart attack.

“Would you let me fuck you, Sandy,” he then quietly asked

Trembling, I gingerly answered, “I don’t think that’s a good idea... You’re straight, and…”

“I’m not fucking anything,” he interrupted, before agitatedly continuing, “I’m nothing right now. I never get to fuck anymore, so what the hell does that make me?” Then, after a pause, he pleadingly asked, “I’m desperate Sandy and really need a fuck.” Another pause then followed, before he imploringly repeated, “Pleaase, Sandy.”

Next, after standing up he pulled his shorts down, before saying, “I’m not fucking a fucking freak, check it out for yourself.” Tristan’s semi erect knob was unbelievably thick.

“I won’t hurt you, please let me fuck you Sandy?” he begged.

With my eyes spinning and totally mesmerized by his uncut dong, I simply nodded an apprehensive yes.

“Okay, let’s go to the bedroom,” he then suggested with an emboldened smile, before leading the way.

Tristan undressed in a heartbeat before jumping on the bed. Before I joined him I made sure to retrieve my tube of lubrication.

As we lay there he stared at me for a few moments before saying, “Thank you.”

Next, leaning over he kissed me anxiously. Tristan was virtually panting as he pushed me onto my stomach. Grabbing the lube he began rubbing it onto his dick and then on my hole. I was extremely nervous as the head of his knob commenced nudging my pucker.

“Just relax, bro,” he said, in an overexcited tone.

As his cock forced my hole apart I clenched my teeth. I pushed out as hard as I could to accommodate him, but his girth was in another league and my butthole felt like it was being torn apart. My sphincter got stretched grotesquely by his log as he jammed his dick ever deeper, before hastily bottoming out. I begged him to hold still for a few moments, but he couldn’t restrain himself. Grunting excitedly, he commenced spearing into me.

When he unleashed his spunk two minutes later, he cried out, “Sorry, bro… I’m just so fucking sex starved.” As he continued to lie on top of me, my vanquished manhole began to adapt to its subjugation. Tristan remained rock-hard, sustaining the divine agony. Even though my backside ached, I wanted more.

“Fuck me again, Tristan, fuck me as hard as you like,” I lustfully intoned.

Pushing my legs even further apart with his knees, his supercharged fat piston began hammering into me again. I could have published a dictionary of sexual sounds, from the noises he made during his feverish onslaught. The dilation of my manhole was now becoming more pleasing as he pummelled my arse anew.

“Harder you fucking bully,” I cried, sweating from the strain. With his torso raised on straight arms, Tristan now thumped my arse with a years’ worth of pent-up frustration and I was happy to let him vent. After several more minutes he again roared as his cum blasted into me. We lay like that for quite some time before I eventually felt his dick retract from my sore arse.

I expected him to lift off me, but he had no such plan. A short while later, I again felt a distinct hardening between my cheeks and knew round three was on the way. His entry was once again urgent, but my eager arse drew him in willingly. His pace, however, was much slower than before and I knew that this session would last much longer.

“I have a lot of catching up to do, Sandy, and I’ve got you exactly where I want you,” he chuckled.

“Use me as you want,” I replied.

“Are you enjoying this, Sandy?” He asked, while thrusting into me.

“Fuck yeah, Tristan,” I retorted.

“That’s great, bro, because you are going to be seeing a lot more of me in future.” Tristan mumbled, contentedly.

For the following forty minutes Tristan varied his pace and intensity. Having finally relaxed, my gratification also began scaling heights I had never before known. The initial pain had been followed by numbness, and then an overwhelming stimulation started to develop as by backside finally embraced the fullness by his massive knob.

The two things that delighted me most during this session this session were; when he firstly pulled my head to the side and started kissing me passionately, and then secondly, when my balls began to churn and erupt without manual stimulation. I was definitely enjoying sex with Tristan more than any former encounter I had ever had.

For the finale that evening, Tristan coaxed me into the doggy position at the edge of the bed and really fucked the hell out of me. As he hammered into me his grunting became animalistic, punctuated by his verbal affirmations as I frantically yelped my encouragement. I did manually stimulate myself on this occasion and masterfully coordinated our spunk explosions.

Afterward, when we returned to the lounge, Tristan seemed to be fairly pensive. I was also disappointed when he headed home a short while later, wondering if he was remorseful about what had transpired.

Early the following morning Tristan called by my place to invite me for breakfast. I was very relieved when he profusely apologised for ‘fading,’ explaining the intense excitement of his scene with me had totally exhausted him. After breakfast, however, all my fears were allayed when I was taken through to the bedroom for another solid fucking.

As he had foretold, I did see a lot more of him. I was also pleased to find that Tristan was very highly sexed and absolutely loved quickies. My backside was primed at all times for his incessant onslaughts.

Unlike his wife, however, I had no complaints.

by Caliban

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