Being a Good Neighbor

It was Saturday morning, and I was settling into my new home, which I had moved in to about a week ago. The house was my second pick, and I was still a little upset about having to settle for the house that wasn’t my dream home. Today, I had decided to clean out the garage and wash my car, so I threw on a tee and shorts before lacing up my old, gross sneakers. I looked in the mirror as I put my ball cap on. My build is not incredibly muscular, but I am fairly toned, and my biceps looked extra big in this old, white tee that was a size too small. I wore a pair of green mesh shorts, and a black jockstrap. I knew that the jockstrap was slightly visible under the shorts, but only if you were really looking for it, and I liked having the extra breathability while I worked outside in the heat.

I spent an hour or so cleaning junk that the old homeowner had left behind in the garage, then I swept the whole place out. A pile of my boxes that I had not unpacked yet was sitting in the corner, but none of it was anything I needed urgently, so I decided to leave it be for now. I grabbed my bucket of car cleaning supplies and went outside to retrieve the hose.

As I began wetting the car down, I heard the garage of my next-door neighbor open. I glanced over and saw a guy wheeling his lawn mower out into the yard. He was in his late thirties, with a short, muscular build, and a grizzly unkempt beard. He noticed me looking in his direction and we exchanged a quick hello. He introduced himself as Keith, was friendly and welcomed me to the neighborhood, but he did not seem to be in the mood for chatting, as he quickly went back to his mowing. That was okay by me, and I went back to washing my car.

While scrubbing the window, I noticed in the reflection that Keith kept shooting glances at me as he worked. He would walk extra slow during his passes when facing me and then much more quickly when he had to turn away from me. I don’t know if he was trying to be discreet or obvious, but I picked up on it quickly and began reciprocating. I scrubbed my car extra vigorously, which caused my booty to jiggle in my shorts and caused Keith to lick his lips. When I went to clean the wheel, I slowly dropped into a squat, before getting on my hands and knees and arching my back. I knew that this was causing the mesh on my shorts to stretch and make my jockstrap and ass crack more visible.

Since I was now on the ground, I could no longer see Keith in the window reflection, so I turned my head back to look for him. He had retreated back into his garage, where he was more shielded from the view of our neighbors, but he stood in the front, far corner of the garage with his eyes glued on me and a fist full of bulge. I checked that the coast was clear before cheekily grabbing my waistband and pulling my shorts down to reveal the top half of my ass for him. Then, I got another idea.

I moved to the front of the car, where I was slightly more hidden from the neighbors, and where my hose was still running. I leaned on the hood and held the hose up to my face. I opened my mouth and let the cool water splatter across my skin while I tossed my hair a little. Within seconds, my white tee was soaked through, and the wet fabric clung to my skin. My shorts were soaked and showing off my growing bulge as well. I looked back over to Keith, who had fished his cock out of his shorts and was eagerly stroking it. It looked like he had a decently hefty tool in his hand. A surprised look came over his face as he began to orgasm in front of me, spewing jizz across his concrete floor. He mouthed a ‘thank you’ to me, before putting his dick back in his shorts and grabbing a rag to wipe up the mess he made.

I was slightly disappointed that my interaction with Keith had not led to more. I wish he’d come over to my garage and let me finish him off. He did not say anything else to me once he had cum, he just got back at the mower and moved to his backyard to finish up. I still had blue balls and considered going over there and initiating something more with Keith, but decided that he probably didn’t want that, and quickly finished washing my car instead. Once I was done, I headed inside for a shower, where I cranked up the steam and stroked my own dick until I splattered a wad of cum across the wall.

I didn’t see much of Keith, or any neighbors for that matter, in the following days. The neighborhood seemed particularly quiet, like everyone was a hermit. To my surprise, the following Sunday, my doorbell suddenly rang. I went to the door and saw Keith’s head in the window! I excitedly opened the door, but to my surprise, Keith was not alone. A woman and two young kids stood there with him.

“Howdy neighbor!” The woman spoke in a fake, perky voice. “We’re the Simmons, we live just to your left. We just thought we’d introduce ourselves and welcome you to the area. How are you liking it so far?”

“Hi, I’m Andy. Definitely enjoying it so far,” I said, glancing from Keith’s wife to Keith. “Doesn’t seem like I will have any trouble finding fun around here.” Keith remained silent, but shifted in his shoes, his eyes darting away from mine.

“Oh totally, the town’s full of fun stuff to do,” Keith’s wife continued. “Here, the kids wanted to make you a little welcome present. Ashley here is world-famous for her brownies, isn’t that right Ashley?” The daughter nodded, handing me a plate of desserts, and I thanked her. “Well, we’ll get out of your hair, just wanted to introduce ourselves.”

“Ohp,” Keith said as I thanked them and began to close the door. “If you ever need someone to watch the house, or an extra hand moving something heavy, or whatever, give me a ring.” Keith held out a small piece of paper with his cell number scrawled onto it. I took the paper and thanked them all again before they walked home, and I went back inside.

What an interesting predicament, I thought to myself. Keith obviously got off to men, as evidenced by his performance the other day. I had assumed he was gay, but I guess he is bisexual. Does his wife know? I assume she doesn’t, because it seems like he didn’t mention that he had already met me the other day. I wouldn’t have mentioned to my wife if I jerked off for the new neighbor guy either, that is if I was in the position that I assume Keith is in.

But he had also given me his number. He had played it cool enough, but he definitely gave me his cell phone number instead of their home phone, which I assume had to be intentional. I wondered if I should call or text him. How long should I wait? Do I play along with the charade and pretend I need help around the house, or will he just want me to be direct? These questions occupied my thoughts for the next couple weeks, but I was still hesitant to reach out. I didn’t want to fuck it up if I finally did call or text and something went wrong. Luckily enough, though, I purchased a new couch and the standard delivery policy only had the guys leave it in my garage instead of bringing it inside. With the perfect excuse to reach out to Keith, I texted.

Hey Keith. This is Andy from next door. I got a couch that I need some help moving in, are you free any time soon to give me a hand?

Hey Andy! Tomorrow evening works for me. Sound good?

Keith had responded immediately, as if he had been staring at his phone, waiting for me to text. I smiled to myself and replied.

Sounds good, I’ll be free all night. Come over whenever.

The following evening, after dinnertime, I heard the doorbell.

“Evening, Keith,” I said. I stood aside and gestured for him to come in, which led us directly into the living room. “Well, here’s where it’s gonna go. It’s in the garage if you wanna follow me.”

Keith nodded and I led him to the garage, where I had been storing the couch. We quickly strategized getting it through the door, and then moved it into the living room. Keith’s soft grunts as he lifted and moved the couch turned me on so much, and I wished I was making him make those noises from doing other things together.

“Stay for a beer and a tour?” I asked once we were done. Keith said yes, so I grabbed him a bottle from the fridge and then led him through the house. It’s not much, as I’m a bachelor and don’t need a ton of space, so we quickly breezed through most of it. At the end of the hallway was my bedroom. When we arrived, I opened the door and walked in to show Keith.

“Finally,” I heard Keith whisper as he grabbed both of my shoulders and shoved me onto the bed. I looked back at him, with a huge smile on my face, knowing what was about to happen.

Keith grabbed my shorts, taking a fist full of fabric in each hand, and I shimmied my hips to help get out of them. I had purposely put on the same jockstrap as the day that I washed my car, hoping this would happen, so Keith had immediate access to my ass. He dove in and began eating me out like his life depended on it. His tongue felt amazing on my skin and his beard tickled me in the best way; I loved getting eaten out by bearded guys. I spread my cheeks apart so that he could get deeper into me, and he licked my pink, puckered hole before pressing into it and fucking me with his tongue. I moaned in pleasure and pulled my fully erect dick out of my jockstrap pouch to stroke it.

“Fuck, Keith, I’ve wanted this so bad. I wanted you to bend me over my car the day I met you.”

“Fuck yeah you did, boy. Well, there’s a lot more where this came from, now give me that pussy.”

Keith spat into his hand and then rubbed it across his meat stick. I climbed up on the bed, getting on my hands and knees and arching my back, just like I had done for him while washing my car. He mounted me from behind and immediately slammed into my hole with full force. He did not wait for me to get comfortable or adjust to having my cunt stuffed, he just immediately started going to town on my pussy, as he had called it. I adjusted quickly, though, and settled into the pleasure. He grabbed my hips to support himself and I felt the cool metal of his wedding ring on my left thigh, which made me even hornier.

Keith’s cock was perfect. It felt like it was about eight inches long, and perfectly girthy, to where I could take it for hours on end without getting worn out or hurting my hole. He fucked me hard, and I was loving every second of it. I even heard more of those grunts that had turned me on earlier. I did not expect it when he got even more intense. First, he spanked my ass lightly while plowing me. It felt good and made me moan a little before responding thank you sir. This gave Keith the greenlight to spank me even more, and increasingly harder as well. I’d still have his handprints on me the following day. At one point, he let go of my hips and grabbed a fist full of my hair with each hand. He pulled my head back like he had the reins of a horse and continued coring out my ass while he tugged on my hair. It gave me a massive headache, but I didn’t care for a second. I was loving every second of this.

I fell onto my stomach and Keith immediately pounced on me. He laid on top of me and shoved his cock back inside me, and then grabbed my wrists and pinned them down to the mattress above my head. The force of his hips grinding into my body caused my dick to rub on the sheets. A puddle of precum quickly formed, which allowed my dick to slide freely and get some more pleasure without me having to stroke it. It only took minutes of this for the feeling of my imminent orgasm to swell from inside me. Keith was oblivious as I was sent over the brink and released my load onto the sheets. He continued railing me, and the semen coated my mattress, stomach, and genitals as Keith’s and my bodies rocked back and forth together.

Keith took a long time to cum, which surprised me. He had shot his load so abruptly during the car wash, and I partly expected him to be underwhelming in bed for that reason. I have never been happier to be proven wrong, though, and Keith continued pile driving my pussy for another twenty minutes before his humping slowed to a stop and I felt his cock twitching inside me as he deposited his load. After he finished, Keith rolled off of me and quickly began getting dressed.

“That’s one impressive cunt you got there, kid. I’m not gonna be able to stay away.”

“Good, I don’t want you going anywhere, sir,” I responded.

“My wife doesn’t put out often, and when she does, she makes me be all gentle and shit. It’s fine, but it’s whatever. Back in my college days I fucked fags like you twenty-four-seven, and they begged me to wreck them harder. They couldn’t get enough of my cock. I couldn’t keep them off me. That’s been on my mind lately, and like a prayer answered, you moved in. You’re gonna be that fag that begs for me, aren’t you?”

I nodded my head, eagerly.

“Good boy. Here’s how it’s gonna work. I reach out to you; you don’t call or text me for shit. Whenever I’m ready, you be ready. Discreetly. I’m not gonna throw my life and family away for some fag sex, but I got needs too. I gotta juggle getting around the family and work, so you won’t always get much notice, but you won’t ever say no. When my nuts need drained, you drain them. Got it?”

“Yes Sir, I understand.”

Keith shot me a devilish smile, like he had just won the kinky lottery. He quickly finished getting dressed and I led him out. He went home to his family, and I went back to my bedroom to consider the scenario he had just laid out for me and jerked off thinking about it.

In the following weeks, Keith and I got into a rhythm figuring out our system. He was usually able to leave work a bit early, park down the street, and come in my backdoor (no pun intended). He’d stay for a quickie and then head back to his car and go home, telling his wife he had to stay at work a little late today. Sometimes his wife would take the kids to an activity and run errands, so he would come over when the coast was clear. Sometimes, he would offer to do the grocery run for his wife and stop by my place before he went.

Whatever his situation, he would always shoot me a quick text of just a number, telling me how much time I had to prepare for his arrival. My job was to unlock the door and be ready and waiting on the bed when he got to my place and let himself in. He was a man of few words, and never had much time to waste on pleasantries or discussion anyway. We would begin fucking immediately when he arrived, doing nothing besides Keith using my body for his own personal pleasure. He never tried to get me off, but also did not stop me from stroking myself while he topped me.

We worked out a system where I would bottom for him if I was able to prepare, which I would communicate to him by kneeling on the bed in a jockstrap. If I could not take it up the ass that day, I would wear briefs and he’d know that he was getting a blowjob instead. It always annoyed him a little to get a blowjob instead of my fag pussy, but I loved how his cock and semen tasted, and would choose that for myself occasionally.

I never got to know Keith very well. Most of the time, he wouldn’t say a word to me when we met up and would leave immediately after he finished cumming. I never interacted with his wife, never being invited over for dinner or a game night. As far as Keith’s wife knew, I was a hermit, just like everyone else in the neighborhood, never interacting with anyone, including her husband. Personally, though, I knew I was the perfect neighbor: quiet and considerate, and willing to bend over backwards, literally, to make my neighbor, Keith, happy. I may not have moved into my dream home, but I definitely made the right call choosing this house.