I was fucking my elderly neighbour through a hole in my back fence, large enough to fit my hard cock and hairy low-hanging balls without having to worry too much about splinters.
It had all started a few months back during the warmth of summer. I’d started a new program of Tai Chi and enjoyed stripping off and running through it in the cool of the early morning in my private (or so I’d thought….) back garden. I live a couple of kilometres outside the town centre and my neighbours all have large blocks which are shielded either by thick shrubs or large stands of gum and ti trees, providing all of us with much appreciated privacy.
Jack, my direct neighbour, has a small garden at the back of his rundown cottage separated from my own by a tall rickety wooden fence which he talks about replacing every so often. He’s a nice guy, probably about 10 years older than me (and I’m in my sixties now) friendly but somewhat taciturn and inclined to keep to himself since his wife died a few years ago. We get on well, and I admit to finding him very attractive with his lean build and handsome careworn face.
I always like being naked outdoors and find the sense of freedom more than a little arousing, particularly if there’s a slightly cool bite to the air against my exposed skin. It isn’t unusual for me to have an erection (or at least a semi) while I’m bending and twisting and breathing, and if I occasionally give in to the primal urge and end the session with a long slow wank, the only witnesses are the magpies looking down from the treetops, and they don’t seem to mind.
I’m not sure precisely what it was that alerted me one morning to the fact that I had more than these disinterested onlookers observing my gentle exertions. I’d noticed various small knotholes and gaps in the old fence over time, but hadn’t thought too much about them considering the time of day, and the fact that Jack rarely seemed to venture in to his back garden.
Then one day I noticed out of the corner of my eye in the middle of a slow torso movement an eye peering through a hole about waist height and almost directly in line with where I was standing. I made no move to investigate further and pretended that I hadn’t seen anything, aware however that the prospect of being observed had made my dick stiffen noticeably. I continued with the movement and when I surreptitiously peered over again the eye had vanished, which left me unaccountably disappointed.
Before going back indoors I crept up to the fence and peered through the hole, but the garden was empty and I was left wondering if I’d imagined the whole thing. I knew that I hadn’t however, and the thought that Jack had been watching me (for how long?) caused me to wank off directly in front of the fence, as if he was still there.
Needless to say, this gave my morning routine the following day an added frisson, the prospect of being watched making me hard before I even took off my dressing gown outside. A quick glance at the fence took the wind out of my sails, and the hardness from my dick, as I realised that he wasn’t there, and I wondered if he had actually been shocked at seeing what I was up to right next door; he was, after all, supposedly straight.
I needn’t have worried however as half way through my program the eye appeared yet again at the knothole, and this time it didn’t go away. Once again I pretended not to notice and continued with my routine, making sure however to give him the best view of each stretch and crouch and pose, playing with my dick every so often in what I hoped was a casual and offhand manner, as if I was unaware of his presence.
This time I decided to go a step further. Having completed the routine I stood in the middle of my lawn, side-on to the fence, and pulled on my cock until I came, buckling with the intensity and sending thick strands of sprog flying through the crisp air, landing on the low wall of my rock garden and dribbling lazily down the rough surface of a small granite boulder; a favourite target. Looking out of the corner of my eye I could see that he was still there, and I thought (imagination?) that I heard a low soft moan.
I stood there silently for a while, panting with the pleasure, breathing in the cool morning air. I turned to the fence, as if unaware of his presence, and waited while my cock slowly softened, a thick strand of jizz hanging from the knob and swinging lazily in the gentle breeze until it detached itself and fell onto the dew covered grass. Pulling my retracted foreskin back over the slimy knob I parted my legs and let go a torrent of built up piss (I love pissing through my skin) before shaking off a few droplets and heading back into the house. A good show, I thought.
Later on that day when I went to check the mail I saw Jack in his front yard and we waved at each other, for all the world as if nothing had happened, which is just how I liked it. We exchanged a few platitudes about the weather and he mentioned how cool it could be in the morning, a relief after the hot days, and I naturally agreed with the sentiment.
I had to go away for a few days after that and when I came back was eager to restart my early morning routine, hoping that my invisible voyeur would be equally as keen. Glancing over at the hole as I shucked off my dressing gown I noticed that it looked slightly larger than I remembered, not dramatically but definitely a bit wider, and the rough edges appeared to have been smoothed down somewhat. Not wanting to break the spell of secrecy I acted as if nothing had changed and proceeded into my routine, losing myself in the gentle rituals and enjoying the feel of my soft cock slowly coming to life as the moist dewey air played over my skin.
I was fully erect by the time I finished the last sinuous movement, and glancing over at the fence I was surprised (very pleasantly) to see a handsome, semi-erect cock sticking through the hole. A riot of greying pubes framed the beautiful sight and the full fleshy foreskin had drawn back halfway to reveal a fat, moist knob, the piss-slit glistening with precum that was beginning to hang thickly from the tip.
I was momentarily uncertain as to my next move, but instinct and desire took over. I moved up to the spot and ran my fingertip ever so slightly along the underside of his stiff shaft, following the bone to the taut cord just beneath the eye, watching entranced as the hard tool bobbed and jerked with my gentle caress. A long moan from the other side of the fence and then suddenly a spray of cum as he erupted, almost violently, the merest touch enough to trigger an overwhelming orgasm.
His semen spattered across my stomach and legs as I took hold of his cock and worked the spasming shaft in time with his own jerking, the rickety fence wobbling against the assault of his thrusts. I pulled his skin sheath back hard and kneaded the pumped purple head of his dick, extracting spurt after spurt of hot spunk, so much I thought it would never stop.
By the time it did finally cease my stomach and groin were awash in his jizz, and I could hear his laboured breathing on the other side of the fence, gasping to regain his composure after such an overwhelming release. He let me hold his spent cock for a while longer and I enjoyed the feel of it slowly softening in my hand until he pulled back and his tool slipped from my fingers and disappeared back through the fence.
I desperately needed a wank after that and wondered what would happen if I stuck my dick through the hole, looking for a return favour. I moved right up against the fence and positioned my throbbing cock through the opening, but nothing happened, Jack had gone back into the house, probably exhausted by the impact of his orgasm. I stepped back and tugged myself to climax, aiming my cock through the hole and shooting thick wads of cum into his garden before heading back to the house to wash away his wonderful mess.
Things quietened down over the next few days, neither his cock nor his eye appeared at the hole during my morning routine, and I wondered if Jack regretted allowing me to jerk him off; you know how some guys are after having an orgasm, straight back into their shells and mountains of denial. Until the next time that is.
Happily, the next time came sooner than I expected, if in a somewhat unexpected manner. I came out into the back garden as usual early in the morning to find Jack’s beautiful limp cock and very low hanging balls suspended through the aperture like some erotic trophy. I don’t know how long he’d been waiting like that, but as I came into the garden and took my dressing gown off he started pissing, a great burst of water bursting through his fleshy foreskin and splashing all over the ground, as if he’d been unable to hold it for even a second longer.
I wondered how he knew that I’d arrived, given that the hole was full of his genitals, until I saw a smaller opening higher up and an eye peering through it. I smiled and hurried over to the spot, gently taking hold of his urinating penis and peeling the skin back slightly so that the flow was uninterrupted by its folds, allowing the hot water to splash all over my bare feet and calves, clouds of steam rising in the cold morning air. It felt so good on my skin.
Once his flow ceased and I shook off the drops clinging to his piss-slit I noticed that his cock was beginning to stiffen. The sight of his old-man testicles hanging so low in his stretched ballsack, as if their weight was pulling his scrotum southwards, was too much for me and I took them in my hand and fondled them tenderly before pulling on them in the way I always enjoyed myself. Gently at first, just to be sure, but the effect on his cock was almost immediate and I allowed myself to tug on them with more force, grasping his sack in my hand and stretching his plums down as far as I felt it safe to go, enjoying the moans from the other side of the fence and the sight of his cock growing stiffer and stiffer.
Now or never I thought, his veiny cock standing straight up and leaking a generous amount of precum, making my mouth water and my bum-hole twitch. Turning my back to the fence I took his hard dick in my hand and positioned it between my buttocks, pressing the engorged head against my anus and pushing back, hoping he would take the gift. He did.
Whether or not he had ever fucked a man before was irrelevant as I felt him push against me, the bulbous knob of his cock pressing firmly against my hole, opening up my tight sphincter with a grunt from both of us. Pressing as hard back as I could against the fence with my bum up against the opening, I felt him moving further into my passage before pulling out and then in again, establishing a rhythm and quickly pumping me with piston-like speed.
Our grunts mingled in the still morning air and I was thankful for the noise of the dawn-chorus and the distance between houses in this semi-rural locale. I could feel the fence pushing against my back as his thrusts became more and more frantic, and I was not surprised when once again he came suddenly and violently, his hot jizz flooding my insides as he pounded my hole in what seemed like desperation.
The pulsing of his shaft inside me as it ejaculated thick hot jizz seemed to go on forever, and I could feel it seeping out and running down my inner thigh, tangling in the thick hair and cooling fast in the morning frost. Slowly the throbbing and pushing stopped until he remained motionless behind me, the sound of his breathing loud and fast, his hard tool gradually softening inside until with a loud squelching sound it slipped out of my arse and flopped against the fence.
I tried hard to hold his spunk inside me once he had withdrawn but there was just too much and it sprayed out in an unexpected burst, spattering his genitals and a good section of the fence before dribbling out of my hole and hanging thickly from between my butt cheeks.
I’d ejaculated almost without knowing it, so intense had been the commotion in my passage, and I was suddenly overcome by a wave of exhaustion which brought me to my knees on the damp lawn, gulping in huge lungfuls of air while his spunk continued to dribble from my punished hole.
As expected, when I looked up he was gone and I didn’t encounter him again for a few days, despite continuing with my morning ritual as if nothing had happened. Just as I was beginning to think that maybe manipulating him into fucking me might have been a bridge too far, I was pleasantly surprised one particularly cold morning to come out and find the fence hole filled with his arsehole, staring at me in all of its tight puckered glory.
He’d backed himself up to the fence and spread his cheeks wide so that his dark ring was centerstage, framed by a halo of greying ginger fur which I desperately wanted to run my fingers through. His hole looked tight (very tight) and when I lightly ran my forefinger over the fleshy mound it clenched even more, an audible gasp coming from the other side of the fence at the unaccustomed intimacy.
I was already hard (of course), so smearing my finger with precum I gently moistened the lips of his anus and pushed in up to the first knuckle, being careful not to “scare the horses”. He grunted and I felt his sphincter clench as it involuntarily tightened, before relaxing and allowing me to slowly intrude further, helped along by his pushing back against my hand. In no time my finger was entirely swallowed and I left it motionless inside him for a few minutes before carefully moving it around, imperceptibly stretching his tight hole with each rotation. A moan, long and low, came from the other side of the fence.
I tried a second finger and it entered him more easily. I watched his anal ring relax as he moved against my hand, the time seeming right to introduce another element to the game. I withdrew my fingers slowly and watched as his hole, now swollen and moist, closed up; he didn’t move away from the fence however.
Coming in behind him I positioned my leaking cock between his buttocks and rubbed my slimy knob against his puckered opening, pushing ever so slightly against it, allowing the tip to just penetrate the fleshy mound, feeling it clench tightly with the invasion. He pushed back, taking more of my shaft than I had intended to give and I began to pump him gently, concentrating on my knob which was held firmly in the grip of his muscle.
I must have been more worked up than I thought and it wasn’t long before I gasped out that I was about to blow. He pushed back harder still, giving me permission to cum, which I did immediately into his warm passage. At the same time I felt his sphincter spasm around my shaft and I realised that he too was ejaculating, the fence shaking as he bucked back against it, unloading what I knew would be a torrent of jizz across his unkempt lawn.
We remained coupled for I don’t know how long, but I was thankful that he didn’t pull away while I slowly continued to move inside him, feeling the last of my orgasm fade away. His jerking also subsided and we stayed locked together until finally he moved forward and my spent dick slipped out with a wet gurgle, my sprog leaking from his swollen butthole and running down his inner leg.
I knew that he wouldn’t be there by the time I regained my composure, and as I peered through the fence I saw that his garden was empty, the only sign of his recent presence a pool of semen lying thickly on the dew covered grass. I stood silently for a few moments breathing in the crisp cold air before taking myself back into the house.
I was surprised to see him in his front yard later on in the day when I came out to do some watering, and we both waved and muttered our standard low-key greetings. To my surprise he came up to fence, clearly wanting to talk about something, and I was unaccountably nervous at the prospect.
“You know how I was talking about replacing that fence out the back?” He was matter-of-fact and didn’t quite look me in the eye.
“Yes” I replied, unsure of where this was going.
“Well”, he fidgeted slightly, “I think its got a few good years in it yet, so I might not bother.”
“That suits me just fine” I responded happily, “whatever you say.”
And without another word he turned and went back into his house, and I did the same, grinning from ear to ear.
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