The Meridian Street Neighbors

A little about these four neighbors

First off, Marshall Mitchell, a Scot whose surname meant “big” or “one who is like god,” was a man of high self-esteem. He thought his name was an apt description of the man he was. Of course, he only brought out that fact in good fun to playfully tease the lesser men around him. Born here in Millside Falls, Marshall went to school down in St. Paul to become an ophthalmologist. He met his wife, Galli, there while at school. Her family is St. Paul natives. Now at 58 years old, he and Galli have been married for thirty-four years.

The couple has four children, three boys, and a girl. Each is separated in age by two years, like clockwork. At the age of thirty, Galli decided five children was plenty for her. Having said that, however, Galli did not shy away from performing her marital obligation, holding her duty to her husband to a very high standard.

So after Galli’s announcement of no more babies, Marshall continued having regular intercourse with his wife, expecting her, as she had said, to fulfill her wifely duties. There would be no concerns about future children, having learned certain things from his father before his marriage. It worked well for the two years between babies. It will work just fine afterward.

But as time went on and she entered into middle age, Galli lost interest in carrying on her duty and their intimate relations dwindled slowly over time. Marshall knew then that he’d have to find regular sexual release elsewhere.

In his youth, play among teenage boys going through puberty was a natural thing. It was seen as a way to explore the newness of one’s own body, helping him learn what it is capable of, how to stay in control and to enjoy God’s gift. When marriage beds became cooler, he learned that men often returned to their youthful play. Only this time, at their age, they knew full well what they were capable of and what was needed to fulfill their pleasures.

* * * *

Jack Walsh was the neighbor who lived on the left of Marshall’s home. He was about fifteen years Marshall’s senior. Jack had lived in that pale yellow and green bungalow for almost sixty years. That was also how long he’s been married to Bridget, his wife. They had two children early on, a son who lives in town with his family, and a daughter who now lives down in The Cities with her husband and children. Bridget loves spending several days at a time down in St. Paul visiting her grandbabies spoiling them rotten. Jack doesn’t always go with her, unless it’s some sort of special occasion, like a birthday or some such. This gave him treasured time alone and time to spend with his male friends. It was always a relief to relax with other men, not worrying about his wife and her feelings or opinions about this or that. Men were so less complicated, in Jack’s mind.

* * * *

Rasmus Nilson and his wife Kari recently bought the house on the opposite side of Marshall’s house (the right side). The old widow who owned the place finally died after living there alone for years and years. How she survived all that time, Marshall never knew. He hardly ever saw someone go over there nor did she ever seem to leave the place. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like inside that house. When he saw the notice that the house had been sold, he was pretty excited. Then one day, shortly after, a moving truck finally arrived. And there were his new neighbors working hard to unload their possessions. He couldn’t wait to see how, or if, these folks would fit into the neighborhood.

* * * *

The Nilsons moved in on a Saturday. Luckily, Galli was out doing her shopping, allowing Marshall to spend a good bit of the morning watching their move-in progress from the window on that side of his house. The man of the house looked to be somewhere in his early to mid-forties, with dark, thinning hair, cut very short. He did, however, have a bush of dark curly chest hair bursting out the top of his sleeveless t-shirt. He was a broad-shouldered burly man, with strong muscled arms. His biceps and shoulders bulged handsomely as he carried heavy pieces of furniture and a multitude of boxes into the house. A younger man was helping him. ‘He looks a little too old to be his son,’ thought Marshall. ‘Maybe a relative of some sort.’

The wife appeared every so often, stepping out onto the front porch shouting directions as to what they needed to bring into the house next. She was a beautiful, curvy blonde who, even while working hard and obviously sweating a bit, had a commanding presence that she exerted freely over the two men.

As the day went on and the sun got hotter, Gilda, now she was home from her grocery shopping, decided she would bring over a pitcher of lemonade and tin of chocolate chip cookies to cool them off. And, of course, so she could meet her new neighbors. Marshall decided not to say hello at this time. He figured it would happen naturally enough later on. He also knew that Gilda and the other woman would probably be chatting and carrying on well into the evening if left to their own devices. Later, would be better for him. Besides, there was a game on and he needed to get over to Pat’s Crooked Stool pretty soon to listen in with his buddies.

* * * *

Now the fourth man in this neighborly lineup of families, the one who got all this story started, lived on the left side of Jack’s house. Jack was friendly toward him, at least he tried to be, but there was never any real conversation. And for the life of him, Jack could never remember the guy’s name. That’s how well they were acquainted.

They talked mostly about the weather or their lawns, nothing of substance. Jack never saw anyone else around either. No wife, no kids, never any guests or visitors, or so it seemed. Jack figured he must be a quiet, single man, minding his own business. That was fine with him. He’d rather have a respectful neighbor who kept to himself and kept a well-maintained home, than a loud-mouthed busy-body who couldn’t mind their own business any day.

The name that Jack couldn’t ever remember, was Welling, Egil Welling. He was a divorced man, with no children, who chose, at this point in his life, to live a quiet life alone. As Jack had thought, he didn’t mingle with the neighbors much. His brother Anton, who owned a small Scandinavian market with his brother-in-law, lived in town with his wife Dolores. He’d see them every so often but nothing excessive. He also enjoyed the warm comradery and a beer, or several down, at Pat’s. It’s there where the seeds of this story begin.

* * * *

Jack’s kitchen, Wednesday, July 14th, 5:30 am

Now that you’ve met the neighbors, here’s how the whole thing started.

Long about Wednesday, several weeks back, Jack Walsh was at the window over his kitchen sink sipping his morning coffee, when he saw a young, red-haired man running down his neighbor’s back steps heading out toward the alley that ran behind their houses. He thought that was a bit odd. He continued peering out the window enjoying his brew, mindlessly wondering if there was anything to it.

A moment later, his neighbor, whose name he could never remember, he hadn’t lived there very long you see, opened the back screen door, leaned his head out, and looked around. Seeing no one, he stepped out onto the porch, coffee mug in hand, and stared off into his backyard.

Two things were odd about that, from Jack’s point of view anyway. One was that the man was buck naked. Looking him over Jack grinned and thought, ‘Nice body, for a man his age.’ What struck Jack, as his neighbor stood there naked enjoying his coffee, was how handsome this older middle-aged gent he was. Older, yet still at least twenty years younger than Jack. He was on the shorter side of things, about five foot six or seven, with a wiry, tight build, and a bush of wiry gray hair on his chest, matching the short-trimmed locks on his head.

The second thing that struck Jack, was that the man had a boner! Clearly, he was aroused. I mean it pointed straight up, angling out a bit, slightly away from his body. Was his coffee that delicious? Was it the beautiful sunshine? Did he wake up every day like this? Jack wondered why he was so aroused this early in the day. And man, that guy made no bones about concealing it either. It stood there proudly erect and tall in the morning light. As Jack continued to stare out his window at the sight, the man’s prick descended somewhat, but still remained reasonably aroused.

Jack chuckled to himself, reminiscing about those days gone by when that could have been him. His erections always lasted much longer than the action itself. He loved how he came down ever so slowly from an orgasm, savoring its continued sensitivity. All he could do was chuckle thinking to himself, ‘That dirty dog! I wonder who did what to whom?’ he thought. ‘I mean that young man just ran out of there a minute ago. Did he stop by this early in the morning to empty himself my neighbor or was he the one helping out good ol’ what’s-his-name?’

Who knew?

Jack didn’t really care who did what to whom, he was just jealous because no one had done anything to him! Not in a long while, at least. He gulped down the last of his coffee, rinsed it out, and set it down in the sink. As he did so, he looked down and smiled, noticing how happy he seemed to be after checking out the scene next door. He reached down and stroked his hardened prick a few times encouraging those thoughts.

As he was beginning to enjoy himself more and more, he happened to look up and see that his neighbor was doing the same thing. Jack smiled watching, then slowly walked to the back porch screen door to get a better look. You see, the back porch faced his neighbor’s property, running alongside his driveway. There was a row of low-trimmed bushes separating the two properties. Thus the scene was easily visible from both sides. So he thought, ‘Why not?’ He decided he’d take advantage of the situation. Not wanting to scare him off too soon by opening the door right away and stepping out, he decided instead to stand in there stroking his prick, arousing himself even more. If his neighbor turned to look, Jack would step outside giving him a better view.

And that’s just what happened. Jack was only there a moment when The Neighbor turned his head and saw Jack. It was obvious what Jack was doing, so The Neighbor turned to face him and show off his own stroking action. With that acknowledgment, Jack opened the door and stepped out onto his porch, getting more and more excited as he boldly masturbated for his audience. The neighbor gave him a nod. Jack smiled and nodded over his left shoulder signaling ‘Come on over if you want.’ The neighbor gave a nod and a brief smile and stepped down off his porch and jumped over the small bushes.

Jack backed up against the house as his neighbor approached him. He climbed the steps and stood there, his erection standing proudly too. The Neighbor whispered, “Good morning, sir. Nice one isn’t it?”

Jack whispered hoarsely back, “Sure is, my Brother.”

That made The Neighbor’s smile spread across his entire face. He took a step closer then got down on his knees, his face even with Jack’s crotch. He leaned in as close as Jack’s stroking hands would let him and stayed still. When Jack pulled his hands away, his neighbor leaned in and swiped the length of Jack’s cock with his sloppy, wet tongue. Then, without further ado, he took Jack all the way down until his knob banged against the back of his throat. Jack’s cock sat there only a moment as The Neighbor’s mouth adjusted. Then that hard boner sank even further down, breaking that barrier to his throat, pushing on past it.

Jack gave out a groan much louder than he had intended. That made The Neighbor feel even better. He loved those kinds of groans. They told him he was doing a good job. He began to bounce up and down, sliding his mouth all over Jack’s cock. Those lubricating juices began to flow plentifully. The neighbor made a buzzing noise in his mouth and slurped those juices down.

The vibrations of those moans, sure felt good, tingling his prick all over as the suction intensified. Jack could tell he was a goner. At his advanced age of 76, he didn’t often get to have a good old bj like this one, and his body was certainly enjoying it. He knew, however, if he tried to prolong these feelings, he’d lose his hardon altogether and it would soon be over.

“Ah,” Jack hissed, as he squirted a few drops of thick seed down the throat of his neighbor. That’s about the size of things these days. He pulled his cock free of those lips before his knees gave out and he fell over.

“What a way to start a Wednesday, eh?” said Jack.

His neighbor stood and nodded. “It is indeed, sir.” He gave a swipe to his knees then stood straighter. “And thank you for letting me make it a great day for you.”

Jack laughed. “Your welcome. No problem here. Come over and make my day any day you want.”

The neighbor smiled and turn away, heading home. Jack delayed him by asking, “I couldn’t help but see that your day started just as well a little earlier this morning than mine, did it not?”

The neighbor turned and looked a bit leery of what might be coming next. “Sorry?”

“Oh don’t worry about it!” Jack reassured him. “There’s no one about in this neighborhood this early in the morning. I just happened to be getting a second cup of coffee when I saw a young man run down your steps and out the back alley. I wasn’t sure what happened exactly. I was hoping nothing bad. Then when you came out naked with your flag still flying I thought, ‘hmmm must be nice’.”

The neighbor laughed at that.

“It’s nice to have a buddy, isn’t it?” Jack asked.

The neighbor sheepishly nodded and explained. “He approached me a couple weeks ago at Pat’s. We got talking and the next thing I know he’s telling me he’d be glad to drop by regularly and take care of business. I thought he was drunk so I said, ‘Sure thing!’ thinking that’d be the end of it. I mean I didn’t give him my address or anything so I never thought anything would actually happen. But one day he showed up on the back porch. Don’t know how he found out where I lived. But there he was. And I sure wasn’t going to stop him. I let him in and he went for it. In the last ten days or so, he’s stopped by a total of six times.”

“Wow. Good for you!” Jack was indeed impressed.

“I’ve never been this lucky before,” confessed the neighbor chuckling. Then he leaned in a little and added, “He asked if I had any buds who might need something like that in the mornings. He said he’d be glad to help them out too.”

Jack’s eye popped at hearing that. “Well, you can tell him to knock on my door any morning he’s in the mood for more. I know I always am.” Looking down at his seventy-five-year-old naked body he added, “I know. Hard to believe right?” Jack demurred. Then he busted out with, “But everything still works!”

The neighbor laughed. “Unless he’s lost all feeling below the waist, I don’t know any man who wouldn’t love a bj every morning if he could. Get all the blood flowing doncha know.” They both laughed. “Well if you want me to, I’ll tell him about you. It’ll be about this time of morning.”

“Great!” Jack couldn’t believe his luck.

“Um…” The Neighbor looked cautiously embarrassed. “Your wife around in the mornings?”

Jack smiled, “An earthquake couldn’t wake that woman. She never sees daylight before nine. So, this early? We’re safe.”

“Nice,” The Neighbor said. “Well, I’m not sure when I’ll see him next but I’ll definitely let him know he can stop by your house too.” He gave a nod and a wave and scurried home.

* * * *

Meriden Neighborhood, Monday morning, July 19th, 5:15 am

Jack Walsh had just poured himself a cup of coffee when there was a soft knock at the back porch door. He walked slowly to the door and saw a medium tall young man standing there. He had bright red curly hair, a little longer than most men wore it, and wore a sleeveless t-shirt that showed off his trim muscled shoulders and arms.

Jack went to the door and slowly opened it, hoping it wouldn’t squeak too loudly. His robe opened wider as he did so revealing his naked body underneath. The young man nodded, gave a slight bow, and scooted past Jack into the mudroom to the left of the door. There, underneath the window looking out on the back porch was a long bench. He sat and waited for Jack.

In situations like these, men didn’t beat around the bush. Jack swept his robe behind him with his hands holding the fabric behind his back. He stepped forward and presented his morning wood to The Young Man sitting in front of him. He stared at it. Not moving. No talking. The stillness was charged with erotic anticipation.

Jack stepped one step closer and rubbed his cock against the soft cheek of that freckled young face. He bent his knees a bit so he could slide it up and down both sides of his face. His knob brushed The Young Man’s lips. A soft moan came. He opened his mouth and Jack slid his cock inside those warm, wet lips. And The Young Man began.

He took his time, sliding up and around the shaft, getting it sloppily wet. He used only his mouth to excite the man who stood in front of him. He sucked him down deep, past the barrier ring and down into his throat. He used the back of his throat to massage the rigid cock in his mouth while his tongue slid up and down the hard ridge that ascended that prick.

Jack started to groan. He tried to keep it soft but this young man was treating him to something he’d rarely felt. He wanted to savor every moment. When the Young man began to pull on his ball sack and twist it around, Jack knew he was a goner. He bent his knees a bit to keep his balance. He clenched his ass cheeks tightly and then exploded down The Young Man’s throat. His whole body convulsed as he emptied his balls. Splash after splash drenched The Young Man’s throat. Jack didn’t know he could even produce that much sperm anymore. ‘What a revelation,’ he thought, congratulating himself.

The young man pulled off letting Jack’s prick bounce off his belly. He smiled up at Jack, gave a quick nod, then hightailed it out of there. Jack couldn’t even thank him he was gone so fast. Jack stood in the doorway of the back porch watching The Young Man as scooted quickly down the path to the alley.

Jack looked up and saw his next-door neighbor standing on his porch smiling back at him. When Jack smiled, his neighbor offered him a ‘Cheers!’ saluting him with his coffee mug, then taking a sip. Jack chuckled and did the same. ‘What a nice way to start a Monday!’ thought Jack as he went back into his kitchen. ‘It’ll be another one of those days,’ he said to himself, knowing the grin he wore wouldn’t go away any time soon.

* * * *