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Related article: Date: Tue, 31 Jan 2006 19:58:59 -0600
From: Lance Davids
Subject: Hookup 2: Guy Next Door[Although presented as told by Burt, this story is fiction. Therefore, all
the names and details are invented.]When the guy who bought the house next door occupied it, I never saw him.
Later, I learned he'd moved in by a small u-haul van unloaded in a matter of
minutes. Later he had either his red pickup or his sporty red convertible
parked in the driveway. The other half of the double garage held his two
motorcycles, so the neighbors on the other side told me.It must be an investment, I figured. What else does a guy want with a
four-bedroom house? Unless he was getting married. No sign of that. As
for me, I was house sitting for the parents' who were testing out Florida.
I was between boyfriends, and trying to write a short story good enough for
the New Yorker or the likes. If I could buckle down in a small town without
too many distractions, I just might get something done.He worked odd hours, mostly at night, and I never saw any signs of life
during the day. About three-four weeks went by before Brad came over to
introduce himself. He saw me one weekend afternoon upon arriving home while
I was outside mowing the yard. I cut the power bar to shake hands with him.
Brad was a shy guy Nn Lolita Models Nn Lolita Models
who shuffled his feet and never quite looked me in the
eye. He did warm up in the conversation, though, when he talked about the
search he'd made before buying his house. He'd looked at several in the
neighborhood, and thought he'd made the best deal. He was some kind of
engineer; I never really understood exactly what or where. But obviously he
was smart, frugal, and disciplined. Also uptight.It was a warm day, but he wore slacks, a long-sleeved, white shirt and tie,
and sensible oxfords. He had his sleeves rolled up, though, and I could Nn Lolita Models see
he was a hairy guy; the black stuff covered his arms and poked up around the
shirt color. He was extremely well groomed but with a dark "five o'clock
shadow," and a thick head of hair, barber fresh and sharply parted on the
left. A little longer and I think it would start to wave and curl of its
own. Thirtyish, maybe. Same as me.I told him I was watching the parents' house before he asked about any
family. Except for Nn Lolita Models his purchase of the house, carrying a conversation
proved hard for Nn Lolita Models him. I did find out he'd worked in other states after the
navy, that he'd owned houses before, and about the motorcycles. "I don't
ride as much as I used to," he said. The distance remained, and I never
invited him in, for a drink or anything. I thought, instead, of the story
deadlines I'd set myself. Better to stick to business.When I work on a story, I give in to it, and lose all sense of time and
schedule. Generally I go until I burn out, somewhere around the middle of
the night. And because I work alone, I don't dress, and often go nude. One
night, probably 4 a.m., I could do no more, and decided to knock off. I
walked out the lower floor where I roomed and worked and stretched my naked
body in Nn Lolita Models the moonlight. The parents didn't allow smoking in the house, and I
don't smoke much, but I do to unwind, and so I was out for a few goodnight
puffs.In the dark, you can often hear rustling in the distance, raccoons mostly,
and the deer start moving towards dawn. Sometimes the wind rustles the
aspen leaves or breezes move other stuff around. Clear nights, you can see
the bats zickering by. I heard Brad's car before I saw it; then his car
lights flashed into the drive. I doubt he saw me, a level below and
somewhat shielded. I stood still and continued dragging on my Marlboro.Brad stood by his car for awhile and then locked it up before going around
to the far side of his Nn Lolita Models
house from me, and probably entering from the back
porch and kitchen door. I was about finished smoking when a light flickered
on and then was out in the upstairs facing bedroom. In the dark he opened
the blind and window. I saw the shadow outline of his body framed by the
window sashes. Brad undid his tie, pulled out his shirt and stepped out of
his pants. That much I could tell, but no real detail. He stood there for
about five minutes, and it seemed that he was silently jacking himself.
Then he was gone.I didn't see Brad again for a long time. A couple times I saw signs of
other people. One afternoon, a guy parked his pickup in front and went to
the front door and knocked a few times. He sort of looked around, then
left. Another time, a snazzy sports car was there over the weekend, and I
wondered if it was his parents.I'd forgotten about the previous outdoor episode, when about six weeks
later, I pulled another all nighter. Noting that Brad was about due home, I
made my way upstairs, and stepped out onto the deck. I lit up and waited.
On my third cigarette, I heard the low buzz of Brad's car and held steady
when the lights flashed into view at the turn and blanked out at the stop.
Brad eased out of his car, stood for a moment, and headed for his
disappearing act. Moments later, the same flicker of light and Brad opened
his window. Yes, he definitely was whanging himself. I stood directly
opposite him and pulled on my own joy stick. Neither of us vocalized or
shot. It was just a matter of showing size and staying hard.One Sunday afternoon, I almost collided with Brad in the supermarket. He
looked embarrassed and pretended not to notice me. 'Brad, it's Burt. You
do eat, then.' A lame thing to say; I knew he put out garbage, but I never
saw him do it.'You, too.' He was ready to hurry away.'We should get together sometime. Burgers and beer? But I don't know your
schedule.''How about breakfast?''Sure. When?' I tried not to sound too eager.'Oh, some day next week. I get off work at 4 a.m. I'll see how I feel.''Just come to the downstairs patio. I'll leave the door open. You'll need
a flashlight.''Thanks for the invite.' And he was gone.'What does this mean?' I asked myself. The week went by, and I imagined it
was Brad's usual avoidance. After I waited for him Monday, I slept the rest
of the mornings.In my dream, I was on a desert island with usual palm trees and sand. From
doing nothing, I was taking a siesta in my hammock when I felt something
crawling on me like a spider tiptoeing down my sternum to me treasure chest.
I had this anxiety that it was a tarantula ready to sting me right in the
vitals. Instead something lifted my cock and started treating it like a
Popsicle. Reaching consciousness, I realized I was on the receiving end of
a warm, fluid blow job in my own bed.'Nummy,' he said. It was Brad's voice. I shifted to make room for him, and
he crawled between my legs, still licking, sucking and eating me. I felt
for him, discovering he'd shed his clothes. His chest and back were covered
with hair. I massaged his neck and locked my legs at the ankle over his
back.'Help yourself,' I said. 'Take as much as you want.''It's been a long time,' Brad whispered. 'I'm afraid, I really am hungry.''Don't apologize. Just dig in.'He shuffled himself, and I could feel the head of his hose up against my
asshole.'Okay?''Okay.' I let myself relax, and he began porking me.His entry was a bit awkward, but cautious. However his hirsute body,
well-muscled arms, and manly scent excited me. That and the thought that
for the first time in half a year I was going to be fucked by a hunk who
really wanted me.Brad moved my legs over his shoulders and then way back over my head so that
my ass was in prime line for his humpty-dumpty. In that position I couldn't
reciprocate by complimentary motion, but every time he swung at me, his full
hammer hit me where I live. In five minutes though my ass was burning, my
toes were tingling and my balls were throbbing. He kept it up another
half-hour during which time I came twice before he ever shot. Talk about
your man of iron will.He fell on me after his final spasm, and I let him sleep until noon when I
brought him breakfast in bed. We showered, and I fucked him. We slept, and
he fucked me. I woke when he'd gone back to his house. It was a Saturday.
I never saw him again.Later I learned he sold the house, quit his job, and moved on. Nobody I
asked knew his name
other than Brad, and no one knew where he had worked. Gone, but not
forgotten as they say.The parents Nn Lolita Models
returned at the end of the summer. I took my manuscripts,
computer, and headed back to Chicago, city of sin.
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# by erumofuis | 2012-08-02 02:45



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