Greg was a pompous asshole.
As I stood grilling in the backyard, making food for our friends and neighbors, I watched as he moved through my party. Confident. Like he owned the place. My place.
“Honey, can we get 4 more hot dogs for the kids?” My wife said, taking me out of my focus of frustration.
I lifted the heavy metal top of the grill, where I could see a dent from when my son Connor’s football hit it last weekend. I added 4 beef franks to the grill and started to cook them. The heat of the day was starting to break as the sun began to fall on the horizon. I brushed the sweat off my brow and flipped the hot dogs over. The sound of a mockingbird in the distance was then covered by the sounds of our kids screaming and running around.
“Need any help with that, Danny boy?” I hated when he called me that. His hand rubbing my shoulder. Always a bit too hard. Too long.
I looked up and he had that stupid cocky grin. The one that told me he thought he could probably do it better.
“Might want to flip those and cook them a bit more on the other side.”
See, there it is.
We had known each other for what, 3 years. When he and his wife Carol moved in, Carol and my wife became fast friends. We didn’t.
I looked up at him. His dark brown hair always seemed to have each strand in the perfect spot. Even when he tried this messy summer look.
The way his eyes looked down on me. Those hazel eyes where you could see the brown in the center and a mix of blue or grey on the edges. They always seemed to change with whatever color boring golf shirt he wore.
“Would you like another beer, Danny?”
“Daniel. And sure.”
“You don’t have any Blue Moons left, do you?”
“No, ran out about an hour ago.”
“Should have probably gotten more of those.”
Nothing was ever perfect.
“These Lone Stars will do I guess.”
I could hear the wet cracking noise of the tab breaking open the can. He placed it on the grill ledge then went to talk to the other guests. Probably talking about how he and his wife are trying for another baby. Each time they spawned another kid they loved to talk about how much sex they were having.
“Honey,” I yelled to my wife Lindsey.
“Yes, Daniel?”
“Can you bring me 4 buns. We are done here.”
She swept her blonde hair behind her ear and smiled before standing up and bringing me 4 plates.
Always a good team, I thought as I kissed her cheek. Then gulped down the Lone Star that Greg had dropped off.
Wiping my mouth and watching him play with his kids.
As they threw a baseball around I could see his shirt, which always seemed a bit too tight, hugging his arms as he threw the ball. I watched them play as I finished my beer and he finally saw me standing there. Watching. When he looked back, I felt something in my stomach tighten. He had this effect on me, always leaving me with an almost sick feeling in my stomach when he was around. The kind that always made my heart feel like it was beating too fast.
As it got darker, Lindsey asked me to get a fire started. Not like we needed it for heat, it was still almost 90 degrees outside. She always liked to create an ideal aesthetic.
I started to put a few logs in the fire pit we had in the backyard, where Lindsey and I loved to read on cool fall nights or just talk about our days. The kids.
I placed a log in and could smell Greg walk behind me. That too-perfect cologne, the one every person in my office wears, but mixed with whatever soap he always had on that made it smell sweeter. Linger in the air more.
“Let me help,” he said with a smile.
I placed another log in.
“Should probably make it like a log cabin. Makes the air breathe under it,” he said, looking right at me. The side of his mouth turning up.
“I think it is fine this way.”
“Might be why it always takes you an extra 15 minutes to light it.”
I bit down on the back of my teeth as he handed me another log.
Our hands brushed each other. I wanted to move away but didn’t want to offend him again by moving too quick, so I left it there.
“Shit,” I said, feeling a splinter lodge deep in my finger.
Greg looked at me with a concerned face. “You ok, Daniel?”
“Yeah. Just a splinter.”
I tried to pick it out but it was lodged too deep.
“Here. Wait one second.”
Greg went to the cooler and brought back an opened beer.
“Drink this,” he said with the seriousness of an ER doctor.
He put his hands in his pocket and pulled out his keys, which had a Swiss Army knife on them.
He grabbed my hand without asking. His hands were firm, more coarse than I thought they would be. And warm.
I looked up at him, watching as he inspected the spot and got the tweezers on the knife ready.
I took another drink as I watched him study the offending splinter before going to work with the tweezers.
“Ow,” I said as it dislodged from my finger.
“There, all done,” he said. His finger caressing the spot a bit before letting my hand go.
“You should be more careful,” he said matter-of-factly.
“I should go clean it up,” I said, leaving Greg there to start the rest of the fire.
As I walked to the garage I looked back as Greg rearranged the logs the way he wanted. I rubbed my finger, which hurt like a bitch now. Then realized it was not the spot of the splinter but where his finger had been rubbing.
Looking back, I saw that he had the fire started as I went into the garage to get my first aid kit.
I started to look on the shelf for the small first aid kit, finally remembering it was in our camping box, and started to look through it.
I looked at the small red area and cleaned it off before applying the band-aid. Greg had actually done a great job removing the splinter. I didn’t feel much pain. He had been more helpful. Gentler than expected.
I took a deep sigh and closed my eyes for a moment. I could hear the wives laughing at some story. The kids screaming as they ran around.
“Why are you always so wound up, Danny?”
My hands gripped the workbench, pressing into it hard.
“Daniel,” I said, turning around. Looking at Greg watching me with a beer in his hand.
“Made that finger thing seem like an existential crisis there, bud,” he said as he walked into my garage and approached me.
“Just want to make sure it doesn’t get infected.”
“Also a good excuse to get away from me.”
I stood there, eyes widened at that statement. Not following.
“W-what?”
“You always find a reason to get away from me.”
“It’s not that,” I said, not wanting him to feel insulted.
He placed the beer on the counter next to me and I could see the strong vein of his bicep bulge out.
Was he going to start a fight here?
I found it hard to swallow.
“Is it the reason that you are always watching me. Looking.”
I looked at him. He didn’t seem mad, just like he knew better.
“Not sure what you mean, Greg.”
He got closer to me until we were inches apart, where I could feel the heat off his body and smell the Lone Star on his breath.
“You watch me a lot, Danny boy,” he said with a slight grin.
“You are full of shit, Greg,” I said, trying to push him away. But he grabbed my hand. Not too hard or too soft.
“No need to be dramatic,” he said softly.
“You should go,” I said, not convincing anyone.
“Tell me like you actually mean it. Like a man.” I could feel my chest tighten as his eyes settled upon me. Observing me.
I went to open my mouth, to tell him to leave, but couldn’t. His hand, the one still holding mine, was stopping me. It felt soothing and I couldn’t make it stop.
Looking at him, his tough exterior softened. Just as it had with the splinter.
“You know, Dann” he started before I kissed him. On the lips, harder than either of us expected.
I could feel him tense up and become rigid as our lips met. Then relax and give into it.
“Daniel,” I said before he pushed me against the bench. The edge pressing into my lower back.
“Now you want to correct me,” he said as he kissed me back.
His hands caressed my face as we made out there in the dark garage, lit only by a light hanging over the bench. They moved down the side of my body.
“You have made me wait way too long,” Greg said in my ear. His mouth teasing my lobe. Making my eyes roll back in my head.
I pushed him away, taking him in, all of him, like it was the first time. Looked at the half-opened garage door. My wife or kids could burst through any moment. I looked at the door.
We both have families. We need to stop now.
I looked at the door one more time.
I should at least close it.
Then up at Greg and his hazel eyes.
Then lowered myself to my knees in front of him.
I could feel the cold cement floor on my bare knees as they made contact. He was bulging in his white shorts and something in me needed to see what he looked like.
My hands fumbled for his button and zipper as I exposed his cock to the summer air.
It was thick, heavy, and had this manliness to him. I had seen a cock or two in the showers, or that one time in college. This was impressive. It almost called to my mouth and told it what to do next.
Without overthinking for the first time tonight, my tongue then mouth made contact with him. I watched the door as I started to sink his rod down my throat.
“Watch the teeth,” he said, not angry. Just guiding me.
I opened wide, trying to adjust to his girth, my jaw going as wide as I could and covering my teeth with my lips as I slid up and down his shaft.
I could feel the head get thicker as it slid in and out of my mouth. I took it out. Held it firm in my hands. Watching it pulse before taking it down to the base.
“Fuck. You are so good at that,” he said, his hand moving through my hair.
I rose to my feet and quickly started to take down my pants. I could see his eyes get even bigger.
“Wha...”
“We don’t have much time,” I instructed him as I spat in my hand and applied it to his cock.
“Whoa. Not sure we should,” he said, this time holding back. But not resisting as I aligned myself to the head of his cock.
I had never in my life put something up my ass. Never desired to. At least I kept telling myself that for years.
All I knew is I wanted him in me. To use me. To own me like he did this party and my house.
When the head pushed against me I could feel it pressing into me. My body resisted. Hard.
Ok. Maybe this was a mistake, I thought as his head breached my ring.
“Mmpf,” I said, trying to hide my pain.
I could feel him back up but I wanted this. I stood up, holding his cock with one hand, tight, and with the other rummaged through my tool kit. I pulled out a bottle of lube that I kept hidden in there for when I needed to escape the family and get a load off to some porn.
I opened the tube and poured a generous amount in my hand and applied it to him.
We didn’t have time to take our time. I reached back, applied more, then pulled him deeper inside.
Then halfway in, it was like my body held us back. I couldn’t do this. It was hurting too much. I wanted him out of me. To protect what was left of our marriages.
Then he kissed my neck. His lips causing me to relax.
“Daniel. Only take what you can.”
With those words. Those sweet, tender words, I pushed back, lowering myself all the way onto him. In my garage. My family feet away.
I could hear Greg moan as he bottomed out in me. Feeling his cock somehow get thicker, stretching me even further.
The pain became pleasure as he held there, kissing my neck and back.
I looked at the door. Listening for any sounds of footsteps.
“Greg. Fuck me.”
His hips rocked back and forth as he started shallow. Almost barely moving.
Then as my hole loosened its grip and relaxed he moved more and more out. Halfway out then back in.
Then fully pulling out except the tip before slamming back.
Hitting something deep inside that made me almost want to black out.
I needed to moan, loud. This felt better than anything I had ever felt.
I felt a wave of pleasure with each hard thrust as he pushed into me. I could feel him dig deep inside, trying to bury his cock.
His breathing increased. His rhythm became faster until he was pumping into me.
I tightened myself around him. I wanted this to go all night but we needed to get back to the party and to our wives.
I could feel him getting close as his breathing went deep and he was slamming into me.
“I’m getting close, Daniel,” he said, sounding surprised by his own words.
“Cum in me, Greg. Please,” I begged, wanting nothing more than his cum in me.
“Fuck. So close.”
“Please, Greg. I need your load.”
With that I could feel his body go tight then shudder as he shot volley after volley into me. I could feel his warmth flood my insides.
Still twitching, he collapsed against my back.
Looking down, I saw that I had also come, covering the cement floor with the largest load I had ever shot in my life. No hands. Only Greg’s cock inside me.
We cleaned up without saying a word. Not one.
As he walked out the door he looked at me one last time. A smile. An uncertainty about what we had started between us.
I rejoined the party, and the kids went in to play video games and the wives planned their next brunch outing. Lindsey was curled up next to me and Carol by Greg.
The fire cracked as I enjoyed the last lone star.
I looked up, Gregs hazel eyes on mine. I smiled softly, enjoying the night and the feel of his cum inside me as I held my wife.
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