#1 The night Brody Showed Me His List
I had lived next door to Brody for three years before the night that changed everything between us.
He was the kind of neighbor who was hard to ignore. Six foot two and built thick, with broad shoulders and heavy, powerful thighs. He had that classic straight guy look. Short brown hair, permanent stubble, and an easy confidence that came naturally to him. Almost every evening, I would see him walking around the apartment complex in those loose gray basketball shorts that hung low on his hips. They did nothing to hide the heavy, thick bulge that swayed between his legs when he moved. I had stolen glances more times than I cared to admit.
For the longest time our interactions stayed casual. Quick hellos in the hallway, small talk about the weather or the broken gym equipment. Then his wife left him almost a year ago and things slowly became deeper. We started sharing beers on my balcony, talking later into the night. I could tell the divorce had left scars, but he rarely opened up about the details.
Tonight the knock came a little after nine. When I opened the door, Brody was standing there in his usual outfit. Basketball shorts riding low and a black t-shirt stretched tight across his wide chest. His hair was still slightly messy and his stubble looked thicker than usual.
“Hey Finn,” he said, voice low and a little rough. “You got a few minutes?”
“Yeah, man. Come on in.”
He stepped inside, bringing that familiar clean scent of his soap with him. I grabbed two cold beers from the fridge and handed him one. We settled onto the couch like we had done so many times before. Brody took up a lot of space. His thick thighs spread wide as he sat down, one heavy arm resting along the back of the couch.
For the first ten minutes we talked about normal stuff. The game from last night, how hot the summer had been, the new tenant on the third floor. But I could feel something was off. Brody kept shifting his weight and rubbing his big palms over his thighs. His usual easy laugh was missing.
Finally he set his beer down on the coffee table and leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“Alright, I am just going to say it,” he started, eyes fixed on the floor. “This is going to sound really fucking weird.”
I stayed quiet, watching him.
He let out a heavy breath. “After my wife left last year, she did not just walk out quietly. She sat me down and ripped me apart. Said our sex life had been boring for years. Too vanilla. Too safe. She told me she had been cheating because she needed more excitement.”
Brody paused and rubbed the back of his neck. His thick biceps flexed with the movement.
“Then she hit me with the part that really fucked me up,” he continued. “She said she had never once wanted to suck my dick. Not really. Even though I asked her for it… man, I asked her so many times over the years. I love blowjobs. Always have. The feeling of a warm wet mouth, someone taking their time… but she would barely do it. Maybe a few minutes on my birthday if I was lucky, but she made me feel like I was asking for something gross.”
He shook his head, frustration clear in his voice.
“I spent years lying next to her at night, hard as hell, knowing she did not want to touch me that way. It messed with my head bad. Made me feel like I was not enough. Like wanting head made me too much or too weird.”
I nodded slowly, letting him talk.
“After she left me,” he went on, “I bought a fleshlight. Started using it almost every night. Sometimes twice. And honestly?” He let out a short, bitter laugh. “It felt better than sex with her ever did toward the end. At least the toy did not make me feel ashamed for wanting it.”
The confession hung heavy in the room. Brody’s broad chest rose and fell faster now. His heavy thighs were tense under the thin fabric of his shorts.
“A few months after the divorce,” he said, voice dropping lower, “I made a list. Just for myself. Four things I have always secretly wanted to try but was too ashamed to ask anyone for. I have been sitting on it for almost ten months now. My thirty second birthday is only two months away and I keep thinking… if I don’t do this soon, I am going to regret it forever.”
He reached into the pocket of his basketball shorts and pulled out his phone. His thumb moved across the screen for a moment.
Then he looked up at me, eyes serious.
“I call it ‘Brody’s Horny Bucket List.’”
The second the words left his mouth I could not help it. A genuine laugh bubbled up from my chest. It was not mocking. It was warm, surprised, and a little charmed by how seriously he had named it.
Brody’s ears turned bright red. He rubbed the back of his neck again, looking embarrassed but also relieved that I had not recoiled.
“You think it is weird if I show you this?” he asked, voice low and hesitant.
I shook my head, still smiling. “Not at all, man. Go ahead.”
He hesitated for half a second, then handed me the phone. I took it from his big hand, our fingers brushing for a moment. The screen was open to a simple note titled “Brody’s Horny Bucket List” in bold text. I leaned back on the couch and started reading the four items out loud, my voice calm and light.
“One,” I read, glancing at him with a small grin. “Getting a sloppy, no hands blowjob while she looks up at me the whole time.”
Brody shifted on the couch, his thick thighs spreading a little wider. I could see the nervousness in his shoulders, but there was also clear anticipation in his eyes.
I continued scrolling, my smile growing as I read the second item. “This one surprises me a little,” I said, looking up at him again. “You have been fantasizing about that?”
Brody’s ears turned pink. He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed but unable to hide the spark of excitement in his eyes.
When I reached the third item, my grin widened. “Okay… getting a little kinky, huh?”
He let out a nervous laugh and covered his face with one big hand for a second. “Fuck, hearing you say it out loud makes it sound insane.”
I read the last one, feeling the heat rise in my chest. I handed the phone back to him and leaned back against the cushions, still smiling.
The list was honest, raw, and surprisingly hot in its simplicity. I could feel the heat building between us now, thick and undeniable.
Brody stared at me, searching my face. “Dude… you are judging me. I can tell.”
I burst out laughing again, this time louder and warmer. I shook my head and leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees so I could look him directly in the eyes.
“Brody, my guy,” I said, still chuckling, “this is like the basic shit you can expect when you have good sex with someone. Wanting your dick sucked properly? Wanting to feel a mouth on you without someone acting like it is a chore? That’s not weird. That is normal guy stuff. Your ex-wife made you feel like wanting those things made you too much. But it does not. It just means you have been starving for years.”
Brody watched me carefully, his broad chest rising and falling. The tension in his heavy shoulders eased a little, but I could still see the conflict in his eyes. Straight guy denial fighting against the relief of being heard.
“I don’t know, man,” he muttered, rubbing his palms on his thick thighs again. “It feels different saying it to another dude.”
“I don’t know, man,” he muttered, rubbing his palms on his thick thighs again. “It feels different saying it to another dude.”
“It is different,” I agreed softly. “But different does not mean bad.”
Brody looked up at me, his brow slightly furrowed. “What do you mean?”
I leaned forward a little, keeping my voice calm and steady. “How long have you had this list?”
“Almost ten months,” he admitted.
“And you still have not completed a single thing on it?”
He shook his head, looking a little defeated. “Not one. Every time I think about actually doing something, I freeze. I tell myself I will find a girl to do it with, then I chicken out.”
I watched him for a moment, letting the silence sit between us. Then I spoke carefully.
“What if I helped you cross these items off your list?”
Brody froze. His thick body went completely still on the couch. For a few long seconds he just stared at me, eyes wide with shock.
“Dude… but you are a guy,” he finally said, voice cracking slightly. “I… I don’t know. That is not… I mean…”
He trailed off, rubbing his hands over his face. His heavy thighs tensed, and I could see the internal battle playing out across his features. Straight guy denial mixed with years of built-up frustration.
I did not push hard. Instead I kept my tone gentle and honest.
“I know it is a lot to take in,” I said. “But think about it. You made this list because you are tired of feeling like something is missing. Your wife made you feel ashamed for wanting simple things. You have been sitting on these desires for ten months, and your birthday is coming up fast. I am right here, right next door. Someone you already trust. No strings attached. No one else has to know. Just you and me, one item at a time.”
Brody stayed quiet for a long moment. He stared at the floor, jaw tight, his broad shoulders rising and falling with each breath. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head.
“I don’t know, Finn,” he muttered again. “It feels… weird… and I am not gay”
I smiled softly, not mocking him. “It does not have to have a label. It is just sex. Pleasure. Something you have wanted for years. You don’t have to decide tonight. But if you really want to cross these things off before you turn thirty two, I am offering. No pressure. No expectations. We stop anytime you want.”
He ran a big hand through his hair, clearly conflicted. His basketball shorts had ridden up high on his thick thighs, and I noticed the heavy bulge between his legs had grown noticeably thicker.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “You are actually serious.”
“I am.”
Brody leaned back against the couch and let out a long, shaky breath. The silence stretched again, but it felt different this time. Charged. Like the idea was slowly sinking in and taking root.
Finally he looked at me, his eyes darker than before.
“If we do this,” he said slowly, “we really take it one step at a time?”
“One item at a time,” I confirmed. “Whenever you are ready. You control the pace.”
He nodded slowly, processing everything. A small, nervous smile finally tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“This is crazy,” he said, half laughing at himself. “I came over here just to get it off my chest. Now you are offering to actually help me do it.”
“I meant what I said, Brody. You deserve to feel good. The way you have always wanted to.”
He stood up slowly, his tall, thick frame filling the space in front of the couch. For a moment he just looked at me, something new and warmer flickering behind his eyes.
“I am going to think about it tonight,” he said, voice rough. “For real. And if I decide to go through with this… I will knock on your door.”
“Take your time,” I replied. “I will be here.”
Brody headed toward the door. Before he stepped out, he paused and glanced back at me one last time.
“Thanks, Finn. Seriously. Even just talking about it… it already feels different.”
The door clicked shut behind him.
I stayed on the couch for a long time afterward, heart beating steady and strong. Brody had carried that list around for ten months, too ashamed and too scared to act on any of it. Years of rejection from his wife had left him questioning himself, using a fleshlight just to feel something close to what he craved.
Now the offer was on the table.
I already knew that when he finally came back, things between us were going to change in the best possible way. And deep down, I suspected that once Brody got his first real taste of what had been missing, he was not going to want to stop at just one item.
If you enjoyed this story, consider supporting the author on Patreon.
