by James, J. P.
I decide not to reply to any of the messages in my inbox, and instead, swipe through local singles. Most of them are somewhat familiar already. Their biographies are short and lack any actual thought, while their photo galleries are filled with provocative pictures. I doubt I’d have anything in common with them besides the fact that we both enjoy sex. I’m looking for someone with depth who actually wants more than just a one night stand. Someone I can build a future with.
Frustrated, I swipe left, rejecting potentials right and left. This is pointless. What are the chances I’ll find love online? Probably zero. I consider giving up, but then another profile pops up. Hmmm.
“NeighborBoy,” I read aloud. He doesn’t have any pictures up, which I find both odd and intriguing. This guy is even more secretive about his identity than I am because at least I put the abs shot up. Also, if he’s concealing his identity, then there’s a chance that he isn’t out of the closet yet. Usually I stay away from men like that because I don’t like sneaking around. It’s just not my style.
Yet for some reason, I’m drawn to whoever NeighborBoy is. Clicking on his profile, I read through his About Me section. It’s long, but definitely worth a look through. He says he’s only eighteen, but seems mature for his age. I hope to god he’s not lying about how old he is. I’ve already served a sentence once because of an underage kid. I’ll be damned if I make that mistake twice. Hopefully, ChatAttack verified his age somehow because otherwise, I could end up in some deep shit.
My fingers hesitate over the keyboard. Should I reach out to him? I have no idea what this guy looks like, but his heart seems pure and innocent. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to say hello. There’s no harm in chatting with him a bit, just as long as he really is eighteen. What the hell. I have nothing to lose. It’s not like this is real anyways.
My finger hesitantly taps the icon with an envelope on it. A chat bubble opens up between us and I send him a short message.
HotandHung: Hi NeighborBoy. I’m glad to see I’m not the only Marvel fan on this app lol. I’d like to get to know a little more about you.
Before I can change my mind, I hit send. He’s offline, so it’ll probably take him a while to get back to me. Whatever. Nothing’s going to happen anyways. If he writes back, great. If he doesn’t, even better. Grabbing the remote, I turn on the television. My body sinks into the couch as I flick through channels, determined to do think about other things. After all, nothing really happens on dating sites … right?
5
Jake
It’s been a week since I created my profile on ChatAttack but nothing’s happened. Oh well. I guess no one wants to talk to a guy without a profile photo. Figures. I’d probably be a little wary too if I was them. I feel dumb for downloading the app in the first place. Did I really think a guy like me, Jake Martin, was smooth enough to meet people online? Hell, I can’t even meet anyone in real life.
Maybe I should just delete the app all together. The whole point in downloading it was to meet someone inappropriate to piss off my mom, but that plan didn’t work. Instead, I’m spending another Friday night at home. If Elena catches me up here in my bedroom listening to podcasts again, she’s going to have a fit. Not only that, but she’ll probably follow through with her threat to hook me up with her co-worker’s daughter. Ugh.
I cringe from the sound of the front door opening. Shit, she’s home. I take a deep breath as I prepare to lie to my mother’s face. I’ll tell her I’m getting ready to go out. Hopefully, she’s got plans too and leaves before me. The last thing I need is her staying home again. Another Friday night trapped in the house with my drunk mother would be sheer torture.
“Jake!” she yells up the stairs.
Reluctantly, I walk over to my bedroom door and open it. “Yeah?”
“Please don’t tell me you’re up in your room listening to those damn podcasts again,” she says.
“No, I’m just hanging out for a while until the football game starts,” I reply with my fingers crossed.
“You’re actually going to that?” she questions, sounding a bit skeptical.
“Yeah,” I say, trying my hardest to convince her. “I figured I’d go and watch the game with a few guys in my trig class.” Damnit, I should’ve said my gym class. That sounds more believable. She’s quiet for a moment. Each second that passes makes me regret saying trigonometry.
Finally, she asks, “What time does the game start?”
“At seven,” I blurt out. At least that part is true. She’s silent again. Shit, has my plan failed already?
“Um, are you heading out tonight, Mom?” I call.
There’s silence for a moment before she speaks.
“I’m not sure yet,” she says, her words tying my stomach into knots. If she doesn’t go out tonight, then I’ll be shit out of luck. I may actually end up having to go watch a bunch of teenage boys toss around a ball. The thought of spending hours surrounded by my immature classmates causes my temple to throb. I massage them gently, hoping against hope for the pain will go away.
But then Elena’s voice sounds up the stairs again.
“Maybe I’ll head over to Buzzy’s,” she says. “I’ll call up the girls and see if they want to meet up over there.”
Silently, I celebrate in my bedroom. Buzzy’s is a local bar across town, and my mom loves hanging out there. The only downfall is that her ex-boyfriend likes to frequent the little hole in a wall too. Most likely, she’ll have Ronnie in her bed by the end of the night again. I just hope I don’t have to hear it this time. You’d think as a mother she’d want to be a little more discreet about bringing hook-ups home, but as long as I can remember, she’s never been shy about her sex life.
“Please take a cab, Mom,” I call out. I hate when she drives home drunk.
“Yeah, yeah,” she replies as her words trail off into the distance.
Okay, great. So far my plan is working. I just need to make sure Elena actually leaves, so that I can enjoy my night in peace. Quietly, I close the door and dive into my comfortable bed. Reaching over, I grab the phone to check the time. Oh wait. I’ll have to head soon to make it seem like I’m actually leaving. But then my cell screen lights up and to my surprise there’s a notification from ChatAttack. Really? Someone sent me a message? Nah, it’s probably just from their welcome team. When I joined ChatAttack there was already an automatic message waiting in my inbox from the site itself.
Should I even bother logging in to check it? It could be a total waste of my time, but what if it isn’t? What if someone on the site is actually pinging me? I shouldn’t get my hopes up, but maybe there’s something there. My fingers tap the screen as I type in my username and password. Anxiously, I wait for the page to load.
Finally, my dashboard pops up. There’s a red exclamation mark next the envelope icon. Score! Quickly, I tap it, ready to read what’s inside. The username HotandHung catches my eye. Man, what a lame handle. Who calls themselves hot and hung? He must be a desperate guido from Jersey, and I’ll bet he isn’t as hung as he says he is. Should I even bother to reply?
But then I see his photo, and it’s a picture of his abs. Wow. I have to admit, his bare muscular torso is pretty hot.
Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to respond back. After all, I did say I wanted to meet someone inappropriate whom my mom would disapprove of. Hanging out with HotandHung would totally teach her a lesson about interfering in my social life. She would probably padlock the front door shut to keep me away from a man like him because this guy has bad boy written all over those ripped abdominal muscles. My cock jerks as I stare at that tantalizing photo. Man, this guy’s body is flawless and I wish I could see more.
But first, his message. I read through the few words quickly. That’s cool, he’s a Marvel fan too. I figure I’ve got nothing to lose, and there’s nothing wrong with making a new friend, especially one with a hot bod. Besides, who knows if we’ll ever really meet in person? This’ll probably go nowhere. I shrug my shoulders and
reply to his message.
NeighborBoy: Hi HotandHung, nice to meet you. I wasn’t sure whether or not I should have left that part about being a Marvel fanatic off of my profile lol. Glad to see we have that in common. I’m open to getting to know you as well.
Rereading my response, it sounds lame. Would a guy with a body like that really be interested in me? I mean, ripped guys don’t usually go for the nerdy types like myself, and I can only hide behind my handle name, NeighborBoy, for so long. Even if he is interested, at some point, he’ll want to meet in person right? Then what should I do?
But I can’t keep living life on the safe side. It’s time to start taking some risks. So far HotandHung seems interested, even without knowing what I look like. Maybe he’s the kind of guy who cares more about personality than looks? Is that even possible? Well, the only way I’ll find out is by replying to his message. Taking a deep breath, I press send.
My body goes still. Wow, I can’t believe I actually just did that. The whole point was to meet someone on ChatAttack, but deep down inside I didn’t think I would go through with it.
Of course technically, we haven’t really met yet, but messaging him back is a big deal for me. I’m a shy guy who’s still in the closet. This is huge. Who knows if the conversation will actually go anywhere? But at least I know I put myself out there. That has to count for something, right?
Then again, I have to remember to not get my hopes up. For all I know, this HotandHung could be someone other than who he says he is. People pretend to be someone else online all the time. Hell, he could be a fifty year-old grandpa in Russia playing a prank.
As I flop back onto my bed, a scratching sound comes from outside. Is it that damn cat again? I swear, there’s a feral cat that gets up to no good. He howls most nights, and leaves all sorts of “gifts” for us on the front door each morning. Goddamnit. It better not be another dead bird.
Getting up, I stride over to the window to investigate. Oh shit, it’s my studly neighbor. We locked eyes a bit earlier when I came home from school, and I went weak in the knees. That blue gaze made me feel hot and cold at once, and seeing Vance rake leaves in his yard starts the tremors in my body all over again. Too bad he’s wearing a shirt this time.
But still, he looks damn sexy. His muscles bulge beneath the fabric, and a bead of sweat runs down the side of his face as he gathers the leaves into a pile. His jaw is chiseled, and that sensuous mouth pulled into a slight frown as he works. How the hell does he make chores look sexy? Fuck, he’s got me hard already.
Should I pleasure myself? The sun hasn’t even set yet, but I’m tempted. Of course, I’ll have to be really quiet, seeing that the man is a mere twenty feet away. But what if my mom hears my groans? Talk about embarrassing. Alright, I’ll wait until later when the house is empty.
I sigh heavily while backing away from the window. Maybe HotandHung will be able to take my mind off Vance? After all, I’m being pretty pathetic right now. It’s the second time I’m spying on my neighbor, and I’m seriously considering jerking off to his godly form. Shit, I’m so desperate.
Grabbing my cell phone, I check to see if there’s another message waiting in my inbox. Damn, HotandHung is offline right now and I still haven’t gotten a message from anyone else on the app. I glance over at the window involuntarily. Is Vance still raking?
But then I swallow hard. It’s wrong to fantasize about him the way that I have been, no matter how attractive he is. He’s a gorgeous older man, and I’m nothing but a naïve, senior in high school. Hell, I don’t even know if Vance is gay! With that glum thought, I turn away from the window and sit back on the bed. I have to do something to keep my mind off my hot neighbor, but what?
6
Vance
The hot sun hovers over my head as I water the zucchini growing in my yard. It’s been pretty warm these last few weeks in October. I haven’t had to harvest all the vegetables yet, which is good and bad. Good because it means that I have a ton of fresh produce every day. Bad because the veggies attract a ton of ladies to my doorstep. Every day at least two or three of them stop by looking for more than just fresh kale.
What is it with these women? How can they be so shameless? Sure, they don’t know that I’m gay, but still. These women have husbands and boyfriends. What are they doing with the flirty smiles and cagey innuendoes?
My next door neighbor, Elena, is the worst. A middle-aged hag, the woman practically throws herself at me every time she sees me. It’s pathetic if you ask me. Even if I was into chicks, I still wouldn’t be interested in her because she’s got a crazy orange tan that reminds me of a basketball, and frizzy bleached blonde hair. Does she genuinely think that resembling an oompa-loompa looks good?
But the worst part is that I’m actually attracted to Elena’s son. Shit, Jake is gorgeous. His deep brown eyes and sweet dimples make my heart flutter. Plus, that innocent smile and taut athletic body are enough to drive a man to his knees. It’s so damn hard to stay away from him, but I have to. With my past, it’s the best choice. The only choice, to be frank.
But something tells me that Jake feels it too. I caught him staring at me the other day while I was raking leaves. He was ogling me, as if I were a piece of hot, hunky meat. The guy has to be gay. Sure, he seems a little unsure of himself, but that’s normal for teenage boys. At that age, nothing is set in stone. Sexuality can be fluid, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s dating a girl, even while he’s attracted to me.
Still, I have to make sure it doesn’t go any further than a couple looks. My neighbor’s jailbait, so I can’t give into the temptation. I almost wish he didn’t live next door, but then, I wouldn’t be able to see him either. I like my men young, and unfortunately, Jake’s exactly my type. He makes my heart skip a beat, but I’m not willing to go to jail again for another kid.
Instead, I’ll have to focus on my new on-line friend NeighborBoy. We’ve spent the last couple of days getting to know each other on ChatAttack and I think I really like this guy. It sounds crazy because we’ve never met in person before, but there’s definitely a connection of some sort. We get each other, and there’s real chemistry, even if we haven’t met yet.
Plus, it feels like I’ve known NeighborBoy my entire life. He didn’t upload a photo to his profile, so I have no idea what he looks like, but for some reason I’m glad that I don’t. Instead, I get to know the real him without focusing on looks. Gay guys can be really shallow, and this is a nice change. We’re just two people talking, without the pressure of love, sex, attraction, and all that confusing stuff.
Suddenly, a shrill trill interrupts my thoughts.
“Good morning, Vance!”
Oh no. Not her again. The sound of Elena’s voice pierces my eardrums and causes me to cringe. Forcing my expression to remain neutral, I slowly turn toward her.
“Good morning, Elena,” I say with a polite wave. Christ, I wish I could go just one day without having this woman come onto me. Can’t she see I’m not interested in her? I’ve never once flirted back. In fact, during most of our interactions, I’m really stiff and robotic.
But Elena can’t get the hint. She walks over to me, swaying her hips overtly with each step. Fuck. She looks terrible too, like she hasn’t slept in weeks. Bags hang loosely under her eyes, and her skin has that dull, faded look from partying too much. It’s weird. The woman’s a mother, but she sure as hell doesn’t act like one.
Plus, as she comes closer, my nostrils wrinkle. Holy shit, Elena reeks of booze! Was she out clubbing last night? A woman her age shouldn’t be out partying every weekend, or doing the walk of shame the next morning. But the closer she gets, the clearer I can see her smeared make-up. Part of me feels bad for her. Maybe she’s going through a midlife crisis? There has to be a reason why she behaves the way she does. I almost want to ask if everything is alright with her, but I don’t want to give off any signals that I’m interested either.
“It’s so big,” she remarks as she glances down with a
smirk.
“Excuse me?” I ask, trying not to look down myself. Is this chick staring at my cock?
“You know, the zucchini,” she replies, still wearing her smirk. “I’ve never seen one that size before.”
“Oh yeah,” I mumble, turning towards it. “I use a special fertilizer that produces larger fruits and vegetables.” Knowing her, she really was referring to my cock. God, I hate innuendoes.
“I wish I had a man like you at home who was good with his hands,” she says, gently caressing my arm. This woman has got to be kidding me, right? This can’t be happening, and yet it is. Seriously, she’d fuck me right here in my garden if I’d let her, not giving a damn who sees.
“Well, I’m sure your son is a big help around the house,” I reply.
Elena snorts.
“Jake’s helpful, but he’s just a boy. There’s nothing like having a big strong man to take care of the house and everything in it,” she says, taking another step closer. “Soon my son will be off to college and I’ll be all alone in that cold lonely house. So whaddya say, stranger?”
She drags claw-like fingernails along my arm, causing my skin to crawl. If only she knew how repulsive I find her. Usually I try to avoid her like the plague, but every time I step foot outside, she comes running out the door like she’s been watching my house. It’s crazy. It’s like I can’t escape her no matter how hard I try. Even now, as she stares at my pecs, I can feel her hungry eyes gobbling me up.
But is what Elena says true? Will Jake be going off to college soon? He’s tall, but I thought the teenage boy was fifteen or sixteen at the most. Could it be possible that he’s turning eighteen soon? Or even eighteen already?