Always His

by James, J. P.

  Once the dust settled, I thought about heading over to his place to introduce myself too, but I was too shy to actually go through with it. I mean, what would I say? Um, here’s your fruitcake? By the way, are you fruity? Because I am.

  It was just too ridiculous. As a result, I’ve never really had a conversation with Vance. We’ve greeted each other in passing, but I’ve never said more than hello, or hey. I wish there was a way I could get to know my new neighbor better, but it seems really awkward.

  This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t be up in my bedroom ogling Vance on a moonlit night. What I’m doing is gross and disgusting. Maybe I do belong on the registry of sex offenders. But right when I’m about to back away, Vance places his hand onto his manhood and lightly strokes it with a smile on his face. Blinking twice, I move closer to the window to make sure I’m not imagining this. Oh shit! This is really happening. My cock twitches and spurts a little as I watch Vance touch himself.

  Pausing for a moment, he looks around a bit, and then pulls his cock out of the swim trunks and begins stroking that huge member with firm, smooth pulls. Holy fuck. My mouth waters as I witness the naughty scene. He’s definitely at least ten inches, with a huge, meaty shaft with a spongy purple head. There are veins going up both sides of his dick, and I can see how the tip glistens with pre-cum. The sight gets my staff rock hard and I suddenly find myself vigorously caressing my own dick as well.

  Fumbling, I reach on top of my dresser for a bottle of lotion and squirt a generous amount in the palm of my hand. A hoarse moan escapes from my trembling lips. Although Vance has no idea I’m watching, it’s almost as if we’re in sync with one another. Our hands jerk the flesh between our thighs in tandem, like we’re doing it to each other.

  I bite my lip to silence the sudden flow of groans pouring from my mouth. My mom might be asleep, but I don’t want her to wake up from the sound of me jacking off. Not only that, but I don’t want Vance to hear me and get creeped out. Yet my hand never stops. My balls begin to tense even as sticky sperm leaks heavily from my tip. I can tell by the look on his face that he’s almost there too.

  “Shit,” he groans from his backyard.

  That deep baritone voice urges me forward as my hand becomes a blur on my cock. He tosses his head back like a wild beast, and every muscle in his massive arm flexes with each smooth stroke. Musical moans seep from my lips as I stroke my shaft in a firm and smooth motion. I’m reaching my peak, but I don’t want this to end, so I try to hold out a little bit longer. Who knows the next time I’ll get an opportunity like this? I want to bask in it as long as possible. I slow down a tad, trying to lessen the intensity of my strokes, but it doesn’t seem to help much. I’m almost at the point of no return and so is he. Clenching my jaw, I begin fisting myself vigorously again.

  Oh fuck! I’m about to burst! I’m moaning up a storm now, but I don’t care. My pulsating cock is ready to erupt, and judging from the speed of Vance’s fist, he’s about to spill as well.

  “Fuck,” I growl, stroking faster. “I’m almost there,” my quaking voice trembles into the night. “Come on, baby.”

  Suddenly, it happens. Oh shit! I can’t hold back any longer.

  “Fuuuck!” Hot sticky semen pours from my jerking dick in virile streams, and to my surprise, I’m not the only one who’s coming hard right now. Vance’s pole erupts, and the man lets out a low, throaty growl while milky white liquid squirts from his thick rod. His fingers are a blur even as that handsome face tips back in ecstasy, his eyes closed.

  “Unnnh,” he gasps. “Fuuuck.”

  I finish while watching him, my fist pumps growing slower. Hot semen covers my fingers, but I don’t even notice it. All I can see is the man before me with sticky white seed covering his chest and thighs. As I watch, he reaches down and playfully trails a finger through the pool on his chest. Then he lifts it up and licks it.

  Holy shit! Did I just see that? Did this man just taste his own sperm? It’s so hot, and mirroring his actions, I do the same thing. Umm, my sperm is sweet and salty at once, musky and so fucking hot. I almost pass out from the dirty deed that I shared with my neighbor. Yet Vance doesn’t know I’m here. He cleans himself off with a towel and shucks off his tiny swim trunks. Then, totally naked, he stretches again, giving me a whopping eyeful of that incredible physique.

  I’m almost ready to come again. His huge monster dangles between his thighs, still semi-hard, and my cock stiffens once more. What would it feel like to have that in my backside? Would I even be able to take the monster? My ass twitches as the thought, and fervently, I begin praying for the opportunity.

  But what are the chances, really? It’s ridiculous to get my hopes up, thinking that someday he and I will be together. He’s a studly, gorgeous adult male, and I’m a teenage nobody. He’s not going to want me. In fact, he’s never even really looked at me, other than saying the occasional high. I’ll never feel his cock pulsing in my ass. I’ll never taste his heavenly man seed. In fact, he doesn’t even know that I just masturbated while watching him do the same deed.

  I’m just about to slink off to bed when suddenly, another moan rings out in the night. What the fuck? Is Vance back? I peer out into the darkness, but there’s no one there. The waters of the pool are still, with just the sound of rustling leaves. Maybe I’m imagining things.

  But then it comes again. Leaping to my feet, I rush over to the window once more, but he’s nowhere in sight. I pause for a moment with a sinking feeling in my heart. Oh gross. My stomach turns as I realize what it is – it’s Elena. She must be fucking some guy in her room, and they’re going at it like animals.

  This is disgusting. What the hell is she doing? Who could it be? As a matter of fact, I don’t even want to know. My dick goes from hard to soft in less than a minute. I cram a pillow over my head, hoping to block out the moaning sounds until she’s finished. No child should have to hear this. God, I cannot wait until I move out of this house.

  Finally, the sounds stop and I’m able to fall asleep in peace. Thank god. It was probably Elena’s ex, Ronnie. That douchebag is such a loser, and I thought they were over and done with. He’s probably just using her for sex now.

  But at least I have peace and quiet once more. I sigh, stretch, and then close my eyes. Images of my gorgeous neighbor dance over my lids. The broad chest, the long, powerful legs, and mostly, that enormous cock. Will I ever get to taste it? Will I ever be spit-roasted on that huge pole, screaming with ecstasy as my anus spasms? I let myself dream a bit, and fall asleep with a smile on my face.

  4

  Vance

  “I’ll be sure to bring over a pan of lasagna this weekend,” Mrs. Muller murmurs as she bats her eyelashes at me. The woman’s married, but you’d never think so by the way she acts.

  “You don’t have to do that, Mrs. Muller,” I reply while filling her basket with fresh vegetables from my garden.

  “Please, call me Brenda,” she simpers while placing a hand on my shoulder. It’s a friendly gesture, but I know she wants to feel me up. “And don’t mention it, Vance. It’s the least I can do to repay you for your generosity. Your vegetables are the best. Let me know if you want me to come over and cook some of them for you.”

  I sigh internally. Brenda Muller claims she stopped by for a neighborly chat, but she’s here for more than that. She’s a lonely, neglected housewife, and wants to flirt a little with her new hunky neighbor. Little does she know, but I don’t swing that way. I’m attracted to men and always have been.

  It’s not like I’m one of those guys still hiding in the closet. Shit, I’m forty years old and proud of who I am, no matter what’s happened in my life. I just don’t run around broadcasting that I’m gay. I like my privacy and try to keep a low profile as much as possible. Living in a small town makes it difficult to stay under the radar, but I do my best. To be honest, I don’t have much of a choice. The last thing I want to do is draw unnecessary attention to myself, given my past.

  “It’s no t
rouble at all,” I assure her. “Help yourself to the vegetables anytime.”

  As I hand her the basket, her hand subtly caresses mine. “I’m sooo glad you moved to Milford,” she cooes. “My life hasn’t been the same since you arrived.”

  Her eyes just about beg me to toss her over my shoulder and carry her upstairs into my bedroom. Should I burst her bubble and tell her the truth about my sexuality? I want to, but there’s no need to go into it. After all, my life here in Milford has been quiet and I want to keep it that way. I can’t jeopardize my new existence when I only just got here. My neighbors would freak out if they found out they were living next door to an ex-con.

  “Tell your husband I said hello,” I say casually, causing her to pull her hand away.

  “Thanks,” she stammers. “Um yeah. I’ll tell Mr. Muller.”

  With that, Brenda takes the basket over to her car and shoves it into the backseat. Quickly, she gets inside and drives away, probably full of regret. At least that’s one less Milford housewife to worry about. Now, if only I could get them all to go away and leave me in peace.

  A yellow school bus pulls up at the corner of the street. Swallowing hard, I look away, my body suddenly tense. I don’t want to be seen anywhere near anything having to do with a school because that’s how I ended up in jail in the first place.

  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not some pervert or anything like that. Instead, I was locked up behind bars for real dumb shit that I would take back if I could. It’s fucked up the way it happened. I was at a gay club a few years back when I noticed a hot young guy checking me out. He ordered a drink from the bar, no problem. He even flashed the bartender his ID. How was I supposed to know it was fake? Besides, he was young-looking, but not that young-looking. So yeah, we talked for a while that night and he ended up going home with me.

  The sex was great and he seemed like a nice guy, but I made it clear that I wasn’t looking for a relationship the next morning. That’s when he burst into tears. What the hell? The next thing I knew, there were police banging on my front door accusing me of rape. I tried to explain that the sex was consensual, but it didn’t matter. Evidently, the guy I’d hooked up with was seventeen with a fake ID in his pocket. Shit.

  More than anything, I was mad as hell at myself because I should’ve known better. I figured I’d get a slap on the wrist. After all, what happened to me could have happened to anyone. But to my surprise, the case ended up going to court, with the prosecutor riding my tail. Evidently, she was up for re-election or something, and felt like she had something to prove.

  That bitch could have let me off easy, but instead she sent me to the slammer for five long years. The worst part about the whole thing is that my victim spoke at my trial, and admitted his part. He told them that he had a fake ID, and had used it to purchase alcohol. But it just didn’t matter, and I was sent to jail.

  So yeah, that one mistake kind of ruined my life. I was sentenced to five years in prison all because I accidentally slept with an underage boy. Someone who was literally three weeks from turning eighteen. But I decided that I wasn’t going to let one mistake break me. Truth, justice, and morality are difficult to define, and, yes, I’d screwed up. But half the battle is getting back up after you fall, and again, it could have happened to anyone.

  So I decided to stay productive while in the slammer. I used my time behind bars to read and keep in shape. Plus, I got into gardening because and developed a green thumb of sorts. Now, healthy eating is a way of life for me. Not only that, but I read one book a week now, so in its own way, prison helped me become a better person. I’m just pissed that I had to serve five years all because some kid lied about how old he was.

  But now I’m a changed man. Ever since I got out of jail, I’ve maintained a low profile. I moved to Milford, bought a house, and keep to myself. No more parties, no more bars, and definitely no more young guys.

  There’s just one problem: my next door neighbor. Jake is insanely hot, even if he’s a senior in high school. He’s got a toned, athletic body, thick brown hair, and a face to make a man melt with his sensuous lips and warm caramel eyes. Goddammit. When I bought this house I had no idea I’d be living next to temptation itself.

  Because it’s pretty obvious that Jake’s gay. I’ve caught him sneaking glances at me on numerous occasions, and then he looks away, embarrassed. But it doesn’t bother me because I can’t lie - I’ve gazed at him through my window a few times myself. I think about him more than I probably should, but nothing can ever happen between us. I’ve learned my lesson about sleeping with teenage guys. He’s handsome as hell, but a night with him isn’t worth another five years in the slammer. No way. I can’t afford to lay a finger on this young man, even if he begs me for it.

  Students flock from the yellow school bus to their houses. I head toward my front door, but just as I get there, my feet stop. Holy shit. Jake’s right here. Our eyes meet and electricity throbs in the air between us. Fuck. This isn’t supposed to be happening. I’ve already done my time, and I don’t need the same thing to happen here in Milford. For all I know, he could be young enough to be my son. Shit shit shit.

  Breaking our contact, I looking away. This isn’t right. He’s far too young and I need to stay away. My hand reaches for the door knob, but involuntarily, my eyes steal another glance at my handsome neighbor. Shyly, he waves in my direction. I swallow. What do I do? Well, might as well try to act normal. With a small smile, I wave back at him before darting into the house.

  Once the door closes behind me, I lean against the wooden slab out of breath. Damnit Vance! Get a grip! Prison wasn’t as horrible as everyone makes it out to be, but it sure wasn’t paradise either. I refuse to go back there again. Being caged up like an animal made me appreciate my freedom, and I can’t lose it again. And definitely not because of another teenage boy. No way, no how.

  Unfortunately, there aren’t many single gay men in the Milford area. It seems impossible to meet someone in this small town, so my dating life has been non-existent. I haven’t even kissed a guy since I got out.

  Of course, in prison the inmates were always hooking up with each other. Even the alleged straight men were getting their rocks off every chance they got. Most of the time the sex was consensual, and one thing about dudes is that they’re loud. They don’t hold back when there’s two fo them. I never once thought about sleeping with any of the men I was incarcerated with, but there were plenty of men were after me. No matter. They didn’t appeal.

  But now that I’m out, I’m ready to start dating again. There’s just one problem. I’m an ex-con, and that’s not exactly something you want out there. Especially because I was convicted of a sex offense. Technically, I had no idea I was committing a crime, but the conviction is all people care about. Plus, revealing that I served a five-year sentence sends most guy running for the hills. For that reason alone, I’m reluctant about getting back out there.

  But the alternative is pretty rough. I get lonely in this house, and often feel myself going out of my mind. I got so bored here one evening that I ended up downloading some dumb dating app called ChatAttack, but the guys on it were so wrong. Most of them were only on the website to meet rich businessmen, and not a simple guy like me. One of the men I was talking to stopped messaging me once he found out that I work as a gardener. What’s wrong with being blue collar? Who cares? It keeps a roof over my head, and helps me keep in shape too. But the gay guys on ChatAttack seem to be shallow and money-oriented.

  So yeah, so far the app has been nothing more than a complete waste of my time. Maybe I should give up on looking for love all together? Who’s going to want to date a guy like me anyway? I’m good-looking, but my dark history is hard to deal with.

  I’ve thought about deleting the app altogether, but I’ve just been too lazy to even do that. Sometimes I just need someone to talk to, even if our relationship never makes it off the internet. God, I almost feel desperate for admitting that. There are a bunch of women in town
who wouldn’t mind keeping me company, but that’s just not my style. I’m not one of those guys who pretends to be straight. I’m proud of my sexuality and I always have been. I just wish it wasn’t this tough to meet the right man.

  Boy, have things changed. Before I went to the slammer, men used to vie for my attention. Back when I was in my twenties and early thirties, I had a new guy in my bed every other week. But after spending five years behind bars, I want more than that. Of course, my sexual needs need to be met, but I want real love. Now that I’m older and finally ready to settle down, it’s not just about huge cocks and ripped abs. It’s about love, trust, and family. Unfortunately, I’m starting to think that the kind of love I’ve been looking for doesn’t exist.

  Shit. Maybe I’ll end up spending the rest of my life alone in this house. Maybe I’ll die and some poor neighbor will find my carcass rotting on the floor. Hopefully I’m wrong, but at this point my love life looks hopeless.

  Discouraged, I open ChatAttack once more. I log into my account and tap on the Messages tab. Huh. There are a few messages waiting in my inbox, but none from anyone I’d actually be interested in. It’s not that they’re unattractive, but I can tell they’re only interested in sex. One writes:

  Hey, my place or yours tonight?

  And then nothing else. I get that a lot. Gay guys aren’t shy when it comes to sex, but that’s not what I’m looking for, although it probably doesn’t seem that way. My profile photo is a snapshot of my six pack, but that’s because I don’t want anyone to match my avatar picture with my mugshot. No one needs to see my face, and at least I didn’t post a dick pic.