The Neighbor Next Door

Chapter 1

My wife and I planned this big move for months and the day finally happened. We signed the paperwork at the title company and quickly rushed to the new house to await the moving truck. It was a big moment for both of us, but one that would change one of us forever.

It was a cool fall day when the moving truck backed into our driveway at the top of the cul-de-sac. The 50-year-old craftsman-style house was exactly what we both wanted. The previous owners had maintained it well, but we knew there were projects we would want to tackle. My wife loved the porch and the landscaped front yard. I was excited about the detached garage which I planned to use as a workshop, office, and potentially even a gym.

Once the movers left, we assessed the piles of boxes, mounds of furniture, and random household items that were placed relatively close to their final resting spots. My wife suggested we start with the bedroom so we could at least get a good night’s sleep at some point.

I began to carry boxes into the bedroom, while my wife pulled items out and organized them into drawers and closets. I dragged additional boxes, mostly full of my wife’s toiletries, into the bathroom and began to load drawers. I knew she would later give me a hard time, pull them all out, and reorganize them. Once I was done with the bathroom, I began to break down boxes and stack them neatly for recycling. A few hours later, the bedroom was unboxed and ready to be used. This did not preclude my wife from reorganizing stuff later, but for the moment she was happy.

We moved downstairs and she suggested we tackle the kitchen next. With the same organized effort, I began moving boxes into place while she began to put dishes, cups, pots, and pans in what she felt were the right spots, at the moment. Just as I was getting ready to pull another box into the kitchen the doorbell rang.

“Hi. I’m Roberta from next door. Everyone calls me Bobbie. You must be the new neighbors,” she said cheerily. “Hi, I’m Brady. Brady Richards,” I replied, then called for my wife. “Honey this is Roberta, I mean Bobbie from next door. Bobbie this is my wife, Claire,” I said, making the introductions. “So nice to meet you. Now I know you kids are just moving in and you must be exhausted, we would love to have you over for dinner. Nothing fancy. My husband Jameson will throw something on the grill,” she said, not giving us time to think. “Oh, that would be great,” my wife replied without hesitation. We agreed to come over at 7 for dinner.

At 7 pm after showering and changing into fresh clothes we walked over to Bobbie’s house for dinner. Before we could knock on the door, it swung open, and Bobbie greeted us. “Come on in, welcome,” she said, before sweeping us into the kitchen. “Your house is beautiful,” my wife said, looking around in awe. Bobbie beamed. “Thank you, Claire. My husband is a wiz with carpentry. He did most of the work himself,” she said, proud of her husband’s skills.

Bobbie pulled out some wine and some beers and set them on the island in the kitchen. “Help yourself, while I go find Jameson. He’s probably still working out,” she said, leaving the kitchen. A few minutes later Bobbie returned to the kitchen followed by a man that looked like he stepped out of a lumberjack commercial.

Jameson was at least 6’3 easily a head taller than me. His hair was dark brown. He had a full thick beard in the same dark color. The hair trailed down his neck, onto the top part of his chest which was exposed by a form-fitting tank top. Jameson’s arms were thick and coated in hair and several tattoos. His legs were more like hairy, muscled tree trunks. Everything about this man was big, hairy, and muscled.

“Jameson, these are our new neighbors, Clair and Brady Richards,” she said, introducing us. “Nice to meet you,” the man mountain, said, extending his large rough hand. “Everyone calls me Jamie,” he said. His eyes locked onto mine for a second and I felt a wave of intimidation.

“Jamie, can you go start the grill, please?” Bobbie asked. “Why don’t you go with him, and let us do some girl talk,” Bobbie added. Jamie grabbed 2 beers and walked to the back door. We stepped out onto the rear patio and Jamie handed me a beer and took a swig from his. “She’s a good woman but she loves to boss me around,” he said with a chuckle.  I gave a quick chuckle and followed him to the grill.

“That’s a great-looking workshop,” I said, looking at the building at the back of the property. “I built that, a few years ago. Come on I’ll show you around,” Jamie said, leading the way. The interior space was large, with a concrete floor. Jamie led me to his office space which contained a large old metal desk that looked as if it were out of an old military movie. The walls were covered with pictures, awards, flags and medals.

“Were you in the military?” I asked, looking around at the pictures. “Yeah, I did, 15 years in the Army. I saw lots of places around the world and discovered new and interesting things about people and myself,” Jamie said, a mysterious note in his voice.

Jamie moved to a closet at the back of the room. “This is my little secret. We have to keep this between us,” he said, giving me a stern look. Jamie opened the door to the closet, then pulled something and the closet pulled away from the wall exposing a hidden room.

“Bobbie doesn’t know about this part of the building. It’s my mancave,” Jamie said with a grin. I followed Jamie into the secret room. Jamie flipped on a light as there were no windows. On one wall hung a large-screen TV. There was a deep dark brown leather sofa opposite the TV. In one corner was a bar lined with various bottles.

“This is where I come when the wife isn’t in the mood. Which means I am in here a lot,” Jamie said. “Yeah, I hear you,” I said, knowing exactly what he meant. “I end up Jerking off more now than I did when I was single. I love my wife but sex felt like, I don’t know…” I said, not finishing the thought. “A chore?” Jamie asked. “Yeah, I guess,” I said, unsure why I was sharing so much with a stranger. “Well now you know the secret of the mancave and what I end up using it for,” Jamie said, with a chuckle as he led me out of the mancave.

We walked back through his office and over to the other side of the building. This is where Jamie had all his exercise equipment; barbells, and dumbbells, lined the wall. There were benches, a chest press, a leg press, and various other workout items. The room was better equipped than most gyms. “Wow this is great,” I said, walking around the equipment.

“You look like you work out,” Jamie said, openly sizing me up. “Yeah, I do, well before we moved, I did. Now I need to find a new gym,” I said, feeling very small compared to Jamie. At 32 years old, I was in pretty good shape. I felt great and my stats were all really solid; 5’10, 175, with a 31-inch waist, a 42-inch chest, and 18-inch biceps. The areas in which I felt like I had made the most progress were my chest and abs. “I’ve tried to add more mass to my arms and shoulders, but I don’t seem to get much results,” I said. “Come over here and let me show you something,” Jamie offered.  

I approached the bench; he was standing next to me. “Place one knee here,” he said, walking over to the dumbbells and picking up a weight. “Hold this in your hand,” Jamie said, handing me the weight. I grasped it as he instructed, and then Jamie stepped behind me. He reached over my body and held my arm. As he did, his large body pressed against mine, and I could feel the heat from his body penetrate through my shirt. “Now pull the weight back, but keep your elbow stationary so that the focus is on your bicep,” he instructed.

I began to pull the weight back aided by his hand, as I made the move, I started to lose balance. Before I could fall, Jamie wrapped his free hand around my body, placing it on my abs and holding me in place. Jamie continued the motion of moving my arm back and forth. I could feel my bicep muscles working as he continued helping me through the move.

“Place the weight on the bench,” Jamie said, after a few more reps, his hand still on my abs. “How does it feel?” Jamie asked, running his hand over my arm. My bicep did feel tight, but I was feeling something else too. It felt like Jamie’s dick was bulging against me! I hadn’t noticed it before as I was focused on the weight in my hand.

“Um yeah I feel it,” I immediately regretted the words as they left my mouth. Jamie didn’t move, he just held me in place. “Is the grill hot?” I heard the voice come over an intercom. Jamie finally released me. “We better get the steaks on,” he said, taking the weight off the bench. I quickly glanced at his crotch and saw the bulge that was pressed against me.

“What were you boys up to?” Bobbie asked. Bobbie and Claire were sitting at the outdoor patio table, which was set with plates and silverware plus a big salad and a couple of side dishes. “I was showing Brady, my office and gym. I am going to help bulk your boy up,” Jamie said. My wife gave me a cockeyed smile. “Oh, don’t you listen to him, Brady. Jameson, you’re not in the military any longer. Leave Brady alone,” Bobbie ordered sharply. Jamie ignored her and turned the steaks on the grill.  

“Bobbie, thank you so much. Dinner was great,” Claire said, then began helping Bobbie clear the table while Jamie and I sat quietly. I tried to engage in conversation, but I found it hard to make eye contact with him after what I thought had happened earlier. Throughout dinner, I kept trying to tell myself that it was just my imagination.

It took us a few more days to find places for our stuff. “I am going to the workshop to see what I want to do with it,” I told Claire once I removed all the broken-down shipping boxes. The night was a bit cool as I trekked through the back hard toward the outbuilding. “Ok honey, I am going over to Bobbie’s to thank her for dinner the other night,” she said.

“It’s not quite as big as Jamie’s workshop,” I thought to myself, “nothing is as big as Jamie’s,” I added inside my head. I began to pace around trying to plan out how I would use the space. I could put a desk here and maybe some equipment over here. Maybe a treadmill. I was lost in thought and didn’t hear the door open. “Hey man,” Jamie said, breaking me out of my thoughts. “Hey,” I called back trying not to sound alarmed. Jamie was wearing a thick plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his hairy forearms. His shirt was open wide, and he had a white wife-beater tank top that stretched across his hairy muscled chest. He wore tight jeans with a thick black belt and a pair of construction boots. The only thing missing was a huge axe resting on his shoulder.

“Claire said you were out here planning out the space. I helped Mr. Greenly build this workshop,” Jamie said, looking around. “I would be happy to help you set it up if you want,” he offered. “Um, yeah sure,” I said, feeling awkward. “Hey sorry about the other night. I hope it didn’t bother you?” He asked. “I’m good,” I said, trying not to sound angry. “I didn’t mean to say you needed to bulk up. You look very fit, I just get excited about training and, well Bobbie harangues me for it all the time,” Jamie said.

I felt a weight lift; he wasn’t apologizing for what I thought he had done; he was apologizing for saying he would train me. “It’s all good,” I said, allowing myself to relax. “I might take you up on your offer to help me build some muscle,” I added. “That’s awesome. I could use a spotter too,” Jamie said, sounding excited. I agreed to meet Jamie the next day after dinner to set up a workout plan.

“He’s in his war room or shed or whatever he calls it,” Bobbie said, pointing to the backyard. I made my way through the house and across the lawn. The night had turned colder and it was already dark.

“Hey Jamie,” I said as I entered his office. Jamie was sitting at his desk. He was wearing a sage green army vinyl bomber jacket with a t-shirt underneath, and a set of dog tags hanging from his neck. His jeans showed patches of thin material in several spots and his well-worn construction boots. Jamie rose from his chair, and again his massive frame and presence seemed to dwarf me.

I followed Jamie to the workout room where we went over pieces of equipment and days, we might focus on each body area, chest, back, biceps, triceps, legs, etc. Jamie’s plan seemed pretty good and I was excited to get back into a workout routine.

“Let’s grab a drink,” Jamie said, returning to his office and moving into the secret man cave. Jamie walked behind the bar and poured a couple of shots of bourbon. He gulped one down, then poured another. He gulped that one down almost as fast before pouring a third. “Did you say anything to Claire?” Jamie asked. “No man, the man cave is our secret,” I said, tapping my glass to his. Jamie gave me a sideways look, before downing his third shot.

“Don’t play games,” Jamie said, his look turning very serious. I felt my heart start to race. “You know what I mean,” he added. My mind immediately went back to the day in the gym when he was showing me the triceps move and I felt something pressing into me. “I should go,” I said, putting my drink down on the bar. Jamie moved from behind the bar and came around blocking me.

“Come on. In the army, we helped each other out all the time. Neither one of us is getting any at home. We can help each other out,” Jamie said, coming closer. I backed up against the bar, trying to figure out if this was just some weird game. Jamie’s body towered over me as he moved closer, then he placed his hand between my legs and cupped my crotch. “I bet it’s a nice one,” he said, as he began to squeeze.

I never considered cheating on Claire with another woman, ever, and the thought of sex with a man never crossed my mind. Somehow I ended up backed against a wall with a massive hand on my crotch. “I can’t do this,” I said, in my toughest voice. “Your dick feels like it’s getting hard,” Jamie said, and he was right, it was starting to get hard.

Jamie pushed his crotch against my leg, and I could feel the hardness in his dick as he began to grind against me. I could feel the heat coming off his body, the smell of the alcohol on his breath as he held me against the wall. Jamie began to feel me up, and my dick continued to grow and harden at his touch.

“Don’t,” I said, my voice not very convincing. No one had ever touched me like Jamie was. Claire hadn’t touched me much at all lately. I closed my eyes as my dick grew to full hardness in Jamie’s hand and against my willpower. I felt precum ooze from the tip as the clear fluid flooded my pubes.

Jamie pulled the button on my jeans open, then lowered the zipper. Then he moved his large hand into my briefs, and I felt his thick, rough fingers touch my hard cock. Waves of excitement pulsed through my body, causing my dick to swell and leak more precum. “I knew it was big,” Jamie said, with a bit of a laugh. His fingers closed around the base, pulling it free from my briefs, and then he began to tug on it.

I didn’t fight back. The truth is that his hand felt good on my hard dick. Jamie continued stroking and brought his body even closer to mine. His dick gently ground against my leg as his thick beard brushed against my cheek. I could feel his warm breath on my neck as he continued to manipulate my cock, stroking it, with a slow intention.

I don’t recall too much more after that. It was as if I lost the sense of where I was and who I was with. Energy flowed through my body, causing what felt like an out-of-body experience. I can recall bits of what happened; Jamie’s beard on my neck, maybe his lips too, his hand on my cock, and his dick grinding into me, but then everything seemed to become hazy, blank, confused. My dick spasmed, my pulse raced, and I began to orgasm. My eyes opened in surprise looking down at my dick in Jamie’s hand shooting thick ropes of cum into the air. Slowly things came back into view, and I saw Jamie’s hand, still stroking my dick. Cum coating his hand as the last drops escaped the tip of my dick.

Jamie stopped stroking my dick, but he just held it, looking at it. “That was a great load man,” Jamie said, softly, his mouth still close to my ear. Then he let go of my cock and brought his hand up to his mouth and examined his cum coated fingers. He held them in front of me so I could see them. Then while I watched he began to slowly lick his fingers, sucking the cum off each digit. “Damn, that’s sweet. Next time I want to take it right from the tap,” He said, eating every drop of cum.