Spring Mowing and Neighbors

Absent of allergies, spring is my favorite time of the year. Around these parts, the snow melts for good. The earth warms up and feels good under my bare feet and toes. I love taking the mower out and spending an hour or two alone. The noise makes it impossible to hear anything the missus is trying to yell at me, and I have the perfect excuse to ignore her. “Sorry, honey, I couldn’t hear you.” And because she is the one who gifted me the headphones to protect my ears from the noise of my mower, she can’t blame me.

The property we have is an odd shape. The lawn is long and narrow and borders on three lots, one on the north, and two on the west. In places our strip of lawn is only ten feet wide.

From what I gathered reading through the property records at the courthouse, at one time there was a cow path leading from a pasture in the north to a barn about where our house is now. As the area developed, the cow path stayed with our property.

What I love about the long, narrow lawn is that it gives me a chance to go mowing and check out the other husbands. No one’s going to give you grief for stripping down on a hot day while you’re pushing a power. And since you’ve got to watch where you’re going, the other dudes aren’t going to think twice when you look into their backyards as you slowly go by.

At times I get such a boner mowing the land, especially when there’s another XY chromosome mowing nearby. It’s like dick heaven. Once the weather has warmed up, they are out cleaning their barbecues, trimming bushes, taking care of their lawns, and doing it all in revealing comfortable clothes. They’ll have their buddies over, chugging beer while they barbecue and giving my eyes plenty to devour.

Last fall, a new couple moved into one of the houses on the west side of the lawn. Byron was a physical therapist at a private clinic in midtown. Deborah was a nurse who worked long, crazy shifts. I loved the sound of that because husbands with wives who are too busy to work and too tired for them when they get home are such easy targets.

They also had two kids, a daughter who was always away and a handsome adult son, Otis, who found himself back at home after college after failing to secure a job in his field. Lucky for me, Otis spent a lot of his free time outside, an avid basketball player. I could always count on him practicing hoops in front of their garage. Watching his tight little ass bouncing inside those floppy gym shorts he wore made me cream my undies plenty of times.

I swear there’s nothing like running your tongue through a hot, sweaty ass crack on a young buck like that. And when your tongue reaches their nutsac and tickles their balls, they’ll pop like a champagne cork.

So I had two wonderful things to watch when I went mowing on the weekend. Byron, the graying dad, trimming the bushes and getting all sweaty, and Otis, his son, jumping up and down, making his dick flop about inside his shorts and showing off that cute ass of his when he went to shoot his shot.

The tough part was figuring out if I wanted to be the dirty old man to the boy or let the dad be my dirty old man, being that one was seventeen years my junior and the other seventeen years my senior. Then, too, I wasn’t sure either or both of them wanted my tongue to explore their privates. Guys can be so fucking weird when it comes to having fun. You’d think any guy would welcome a hot tongue wrapping around their shaft and working its way to the tip of their dicks.

But some guys get all freaked out when they realize that’s what you want to do. So you gotta take your time and feel them out. Watch their eyes. Are they flicking down to see what’s in your pants too? Every guy will do that at least once. The more curious and open ones will do it repeatedly.

You gotta listen to them. Do they ever slyly mention something about their wife being away or not putting out? That might mean they’re testing the water to see if you’re going to help them out of their blue balls situation.

You gotta watch their hands. Do they ever casually rub or grope themselves in a way that you’ll see? That means they’re ready for you to drop to your knees.

Since Byron and Otis were neighbors and weren’t going anywhere anytime soon, I had to be careful and not make any wrong moves. The last thing I wanted were neighbors who thought I was some kind of perv. No, I wanted them to feel very comfortable with me. I wanted them to feel so comfortable with me that when I went by their yard while mowing or taking care of my yard, they’d hardly notice I was there.

I wanted them to feel so relaxed that they’d strip down to next to nothing–even nothing, if that’s what they wanted–when I strolled by. So relaxed with me that if they were stretched out on their lawn, soaking in the sun and scratching their nuts or even stroking their cocks, that when I walked by, they wouldn’t stop. So relaxed with my presence, they’d go ahead and blast off, shooting streams of cum in the air while I enjoyed the wonderful sight.

Those are the kinds of neighbors I’d like to cultivate.

For the first few weeks of spring, when I went by their place and they were outside, I just waved or nodded. By the third week, Byron was waving and smiling back. Otis would say something like, “How’s it goin’, man?”

“Stiff, but I’m pushing through,” I’d say back, making him smile.

Then Byron and I started chitchatting. He was friendly and started giving me tips on working out to become more flexible.

This last Saturday he was the one shooting hoops.

I waved at him as I pushed the mower towards the end of the lawn. On the way back he shot his last hoop, and waved, indicating he wanted to talk.

I turned off my lawn mower and walked over to him.

“You sure have a beautiful lawn,” he said.

“Thanks. It takes a lot of work, but it’s worth it. Pushing that thing back and forth for an hour gives a pretty good workout.”

“I suppose so.”

I laughed. “You’re not convinced.”

“It’s something, but to get a really good workout you need to get your heart rate up a lot higher,” he said, pumping his chest. “Feel this,” he snatched my hand. “I’ve been shooting, jumping up and down, running for the past thirty minutes. Heart’s still racing.”

I pressed my palm against his chest. He centered my hand over his heart and pressed my hand firmly against his hot sweaty body.

Thump, a-thump, thump, a-thump. His heart was beating fast.

“Yeah, you’ve got something going there fore sure,” I noted. He didn’t seem to be in a rush for me to move my hand so I took my time releasing my palm.

“And you’re not going to get these just pushing a lawn mower, man,” Byron smiled, holding up his right arm and flexing his bicep.

“Shit,” I gasped. “Those are huge! Do you mind?” I asked, holding up my hand and pointing at his biceps.

“Get to it, Deter,” he brandished a huge smile.

“Where’s O-Dog?” I asked as I squeezed his rock-hard cannon. “Usually he’s the one out here getting his heart rate going.”

“Oh, a job hunter landed him an interview down in Kansas City and took his sister along for the ride. As for the missus, she’s where she’s always is, her home away from home pulling a double shift.” Byron explained.

My dick popped. When a guy tell you his wife is away and so are the kids, well, that might be an invitation for you to gobble his dick and suck the load out of his nuts.

“So is the rest of your body like this?” I asked, squeezing his hard bicep again, testing the water.

“Pretty much,” he pulled up this tank top and showed me his ripped stomach.

“Wow,” I said. He didn’t say it was okay, but I slapped his bare stomach, pretty sure that he wasn’t going to mind.

My dick wasn’t the only dick getting hard. His cock was firing up, tenting his shorts.

I looked into his eyes and started to bend my knees. He grinned and said, “Go for it, man.”

I got down on my knees, pulling his shorts and underwear down. His cock sprung up and slapped his belly. I steadied it with my mouth. The sweaty smell of his body stung my nostrils. I pushed my shorts down and grabbed my cock.

“Nice, man,” he moaned.

I ran my mouth up and down his salty prong. There’s nothing like sucking a hot man cock outdoors in the warm sunshine. The sun’s rays heighten the smell and taste of a man’s flesh. It’s like chowing down on barbecue right off the grill.

“Fuck, you sure know how to suck cock,” Byron moaned as I stuffed my face with his rigid dick.

That sure made me feel good. He was going to be a repeat customer, the best kind!

He grabbed the back of my head and pushed my head back and forth on his delicious cock. Juices flowed freely from the tip of his dick. If he tasted this good, I couldn’t wait to get his son’s dick down my throat.

“Yeah, man, go for it. You want my load, man? You want to drink it straight from the tap?” Byron moaned.

I looked up at him.

“Here it comes, neighbor,” Byron gasped. He rammed his cock all the way down my throat and creamed. He didn’t flood my throat. No doubt he’d beaten off earlier in the day, but I didn’t mind. The flavor of his spunk was intense. I drained my nuts on his grass.

“Whew!” He growled when I pulled my face off his cock. “Fantastic, man. I sure need that.”

“Good,” I agreed. “Us neighbors need to look out for each other, right?”

“Yeah, we sure do,” he winked.

 

One down, one to go, I thought as I got back to mowing my lawn.