By Oleander Plume
It was Saturday morning and my suburban neighborhood was alive with the sounds of lawnmowers, weed whackers and leaf blowers. I was on my knees in the furthest corner of the yard, deadheading my wife’s flowerbeds. Gardening is not one of my usual chores, but Lois promised sex or at least a blowjob if I did this “one thing for her”.
The air was sticky and gnats buzzed around my face, adding to my irritation. I sat back on my heels and wiped my brow with the bottom of my t-shirt. Just as I was about to sneak in the house for a beer, I heard a loud grunt from the other side of the fence, followed by the sound of skin slapping against skin. Still on my knees, I crept over to a fist-sized hole in the fence and peered through.
I honestly thought I was going to find my neighbor Jim fucking his wife Renee. At least that’s what I hoped I would see. Instead, Jim was sitting in a plastic lawn chair with his shorts around his ankles, furiously pounding his meat. He paused and proceeded to roll up his tank top, exposing his furry chest. At forty, Jim’s body still carried the evidence of his football days and I was envious of his bulk.
He grunted and wriggled in his chair while he pinched his nipples – fat cock bobbing between his open thighs like some wild creature. I felt a little ashamed, I mean, Jim was my best buddy, and there I was, perving on his session of self-love like a freaky peeping Tom. Instead of giving him his privacy like a decent neighbor would, I yanked my gym shorts down to my knees and grabbed my dick.
I couldn’t remember the last time a wank felt so right, or so pleasurable. My jaw locked and I tried to keep quiet, but a groan rumbled from my throat, so loud it vibrated my teeth.
Jim froze. “Rob? Is that you?”
Jim smiled and went back to stroking his cock. “Are you doing what I’m doing?”
“Sure am. Seemed like a damn good idea.”
“Let me watch you now.” Jim stepped out of his shorts and knelt in front of the hole.
I moved back about a foot so he good get a better view. “This is the dirtiest thing I’ve ever done.”
Jim chuckled. “You sure are enjoying it. Look at that nice, hard dick. Do me a favor, lift it up and let me see your balls.”
Jim grunted his approval over my “tight sack” and then instructed me to squeeze it while I slid my fingers up and down my dick.
“Feels good, I can tell—you’re dripping like crazy. How about you stick it through the hole and let me give it a suck?”
Jim’s words traveled through the spaces in the worn cedar and hit me right in the nads. Suck. Jim wanted to put his man mouth on my man dick and suck me off. Outside, under the bright sun while my sneakers crushed mulch and maybe some of Lois’ violas.
“Fuck yeah. I’ve wanted to taste your meat for a long time.”
Jim and I had been neighbors for fifteen years and I never knew he liked dick. I knew he liked Corona, French fries and hot wings, but dick? That was a new one on me.
“Sure,” I said. “What the hell, why not?”
My legs were shaking but I managed to stand. The hole in the fence lined up perfectly with my cock. I pushed it through, letting my body rest against the rough wood. The first thing I felt was his tongue lapping at my slit. Any trepidation I had flew right out the window. Suddenly, having my dick in another man’s mouth seemed perfectly natural. Jim slurped, licked and sucked with a hunger I had never felt from Lois, even when we were dating.
“Jim,” I whispered, “it’s good.”
“Mmm hmm.” Jim pulled his mouth off my dick. “It’s true, you know, everything tastes better when you eat it outside.” He reached through the hole and rubbed my balls. “Damn, Rob, these babies are full of man juice. How long has it been?”
“Too fucking long, they actually hurt.”
His tongue was soft against my scrotum. “Don’t worry. I’m going to get rid of that ache. First, I’m going to take you all the way in my mouth, I mean all the way. When I rap on the fence, I want you to fuck my face. Don’t stop until you come. Can you do that?”
“Yeah, fuck yeah.”
Jim sucked me back into his mouth, one inch at a time, grunting with satisfaction after every swallow. Deeper and deeper until I felt the tight suction of his lips against the base of my shaft. I reached up and gripped the top of the fence while keeping my hips perfectly still—eyes shut tight, calf muscles twitching. After a few minutes of Jim’s slow breathing, I heard the signal.
I started slow, but increased my speed according to the sounds he was making. High pitched whines, frantic slurping and those sexy grunts. He gagged a few times and I took that as my cue to decrease my pace. After a few adjustments, we found the perfect rhythm and I fucked Jim’s mouth until I shot my load. Just when I thought I was finished, Jim put his index finger between my balls and pushed up, causing another spurt to shoot into his greedy mouth.
“Mmm.” Jim stuffed his tongue up my slit. “Mmm.”
“Fuck, Jim. That was the greatest blow I’ve ever had in my life.”
“I loved it too. Your cock was made for my mouth.” Jim stood up and put his hands on top of mine. “You want to try?”
“I think I do, but I’m not sure.”
“I understand. How about a quick yank? I’m about to go off.”
Having Jim’s fat pole in my hand sounded good. I dropped to my knees. “Yeah, I want to.”
“I was hoping you’d say that, too.” Jim’s cock appeared through the hole, purple and angry looking. “Please, Rob, I’m dyin’ here.”
I did it. I masturbated my neighbor. The guy I played poker with—the man I’d sat next to at little league games—the friend I watched football with on Monday nights—and it felt good. Jim’s cock felt good in my hand, as if it belonged there. I was working up the guts to put my mouth on it, when Jim announced he was coming. I leaned back and watched his balls unload into my yard. The strong jets bypassed the violas and hit Lois’ yellow marigolds, spattering the blossoms with drops of milky white. The last bit clung to the tip of his dick like a fat raindrop. Without a second thought, I licked it away. That’s when I felt my world open up, and my brain flooded with new possibilities.
“We should do this again tomorrow morning,” I said.
Jim’s eye squinted at me through the hole. “I have a better idea. How about you and me pack up the boat and spend our Sunday at the lake?”
“The fish won’t be biting this time of year.” I grinned at Jim.
“No, but we will.”
See who else is playing along this week: