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Neighbor Story

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: admin Posted on: 18 Mar 1998 1 comments
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By cliffie My old house was on a pretty, tree-lined street of townhouses in Brooklyn. The vacant house next door was kind of the eyesore of the neighborhood. It was a wooden house (like mine) but no one had done much painting or repair work in years. The yard was full of weeds and all overgrown. No one had lived there since before I bought my house. One summer day I was surprised to see a couple of guys removing what appeared to be junk from a dilapidated, old van and hauling it into the house. I was curious and continued to peek out of the window, periodically, watching the action. They appeared to be Hispanic. There was an older fellow and a four others in their mid-twenties to thirties. One - the youngest one - was very good-looking. A little short, but built like he had nothing better to do than work out. Throughout the day I was able to see his muscles, butt and basket and was favorably impressed. He was dark skinned, green-eyed, with black hair and moustache. The guys made several trips and by evening I could tell they were finished when they sat on the stoop and swilled beers. Soon the older man and three of the others piled into the van and went away. I had a new neighbor. It didn't take long before the doorbell rang. The cutie-pie just wanted to introduce himself and say that he would soon have the ramshackle house looking like new in no time. He had changed into a clean athletic T-shirt and shorts. Of course, I invited him inside for a beer (heh, heh). It seems the rest of the movers were Freddie's father and brothers. They had recently immigrated from Puerto Rico. Freddie's wife and five kids were still there waiting for him to find a place for them all to live. He told me that he was real horny because he hadn't had sex in eight weeks (???!!!). While we were sitting in the kitchen I was really able to take in his beauty. The veins in his arms were plainly visible and still swollen from all the day's lifting and carrying. The green eyes contrasted sharply with his darkly tanned skin and black hair. I saw his nipples plainly through his shirt. I saw the rich, black fur sprouting from the neck of his shirt and covering his legs and arms. When he raised his arms above his head to stretch I saw the fur in his pits, too. I saw the firmly packed basket straining inside his khaki shorts. In short, I was deeply in lust. Freddie went off to see the other neighbors and I went to my bedroom to jerk off to fantasies about him. The next day was Sunday and I was awakened early by what sounded like a wheat harvest. I decided to ignore my raging hard-on for the moment to see what was going on outside. I walked to the window and spied Freddie in the back of his house whacking away at the weeds to beat the band. He was using an ancient scythe he must have found in his basement. Well, my hard-on throbbed mightily when I saw he was wearing boxers. That's all. Just boxer shorts. He was bent over his work and as he swung his scythe all his muscles flexed and relaxed as if to entice me. He "harvested" the weeds all around the garden while I watched, leisurely stroking my cock - not fully hard, but not soft either. By the time he was finished the sun was pretty high in the sky and Freddie looked like he was ready for a break. His whole body was glistening with sweat. He chucked his tool onto the patio and fell into a decrepit chair. His whole body tensed when he stretched his luscious arms and turned his face to the sun. I let the curtain fall and went back to bed to continue what is now a ritual. I squeezed some "Wet" into my right hand and started stroking my erection back to life. Fueled by my visions of Freddie it didn't take long before I was stroking like a maniac. I stopped, suddenly, just before my cum shot and walked over to the window again. Stroking slowly I parted the curtain and watched Freddie basking in the sun. He had a hard-on. His hand was inside his boxers and he was squeezing his cock rhythmically. My own prick jumped and I had to pull my fist away to avoid cumming. This was too good to be true. I pulled on a pair of white boxers, and ran downstairs to the kitchen. I checked the fridge to make sure I had plenty of brews and casually strolled out the back door onto the deck. "Wow, looks like you've been busy". I think I startled Freddie because he yanked his hand out of his shorts and jumped up from his chair. "Yeah, I didn't realize how much weeds were here." "Do you want to come over for a beer?" "Sure. I'm all out. I'm not dressed. Can I just hop the fence?" "C'mon over. Just don't hurt yourself." Within a couple of minutes Freddie and I were reclined on lounge chairs with a couple of Millers. We talked about this and that for a while and got more familiar with one another. Freddie put down his beer, stretched his whole body and got comfortable on the lounge chair. He was really missing his wife. I could tell because when he closed his eyes I paid close attention to his boxers. His uncut dick was poking out of the bottom of the shorts. His eyes were closed and he must have been in a sort of dreamy place because he started rubbing it again right while I was sitting there. This time he wrapped his fist around the thing and moved it back and forth exposing the head with every backward stroke. Then he brought up the horny thing again. Freddie told me that he had a couple of porno tapes but he had no "tape machine". I told him I had one. "Would you like to bring a couple over today?" "I would like to bring one over right now. Do you mind?" "I'll get a couple of beers." Freddie was over the fence and back again in a flash carrying his tape. He followed me upstairs to my bedroom and plopped down on the bed, bouncing up and down on the edge. He was like a kid who'd never watched porn before. His dick was still jutting out of the bottom of his shorts. Judging by the condition of the box, I'd say he'd never seen the movie he'd brought before. He looked around the room approvingly and settled back on the bed while I plugged in the tape. The movie started (I don't think I saw one minute) and Freddie immediately started rubbing his prick through his boxers. We intently watched the movie and I don't think he knew how hard I was watching him. This man was beautiful. He was pulling at his dick like he hadn't made friends with it for a long time. His toes started to wriggle and he pulled his cock out of the bottom of his shorts out-and-out jerking it. He was totally focused on the video. I was totally focused on him. "Uh, here's your beer." "Oh, thank you. Is my movie okay? Why don't you lie down, also?" I don't need to be asked twice! But I had no intention of watching the movie. I had a better show right next to me. I settled myself on the bed next to Freddie and slipped my shorts off. He followed my lead and took off his boxers, too. The windows were open and a warm summer breeze was blowing at the curtains. I looked at his body. The hairy chest, the stomach, the thighs were all as I remembered them. The cock was like something I'd never seen before. His dick was big and thick and already juicy from all his prior stroking. His balls were dancing up and down, responding to his stroking fist. He was in his own special world. I'm sure he didn't even remember I was there. I had a raging hard-on. I'd been stroking off-and-on all day long. My dick was already greasy and slicked up with pre-cum. I was doing my best to pretend I wasn't looking at Freddie but he must have known I wasn't paying attention to the movie when I answered "Huh" every time he asked me about one of the scenes. I got the "Wet" out of the nightstand drawer and squeezed some more onto my dick. I offered the bottle to Freddie and he didn't take it. Instead, he aimed the head of his big prick toward the ceiling, indicating that I should squirt it on him. I did and watched as he rubbed the goopy liquid all over his cock. His hand started its back and forth rubbing again and his body tensed right up again and I thought he was going to cum. I rolled over onto my side and reached my right hand over gently slowing the beat of his fist. Freddie let out a long breath, understanding that I didn't want him to cum right away. He gently removed my hand. "I'm watchin' the movie. Don't touch me there, alright?" But he slowed the beat of his fist. He started jerking with long, slow strokes, pulling the foreskin back and forth with each stroke. I slid my left arm around his shoulders and snuggled up close. Freddie cuddled up next to me and got his right leg under me. He was beating like mad again, his cock poised directly over my stomach. I was jerking pretty fast myself. From where I was, I could watch every up and down stroke of his fist. On the up-stroke he double twisted his fist around the head then slowly stroked downward with a tight grip. He repeated this motion over and over again. The head of his dick started to graze my stomach as he stroked. Freddie didn't seem to mind this so I thought I would push it a little. His face was in my armpit and I reached around and tweaked his left nipple. He heaved a little so I could tell he liked the attention. He started to fuck his fist in response. Every time he shoved forward, a little more pre-cum would drool out and he started to rub the head of his cock in the slimy puddle that was forming on my stomach. I had kept my erection all morning. I stroked my dick slowly and gave it the same little turn on the up-stroke just like Freddie. I was stiff as a nail and wanted to cum but wanted to wait for Freddie. Our juices were mixing and making a mess on my stomach. The video was running but no one was watching it. My eyes were on Freddie's cock and he was watching me. I grabbed his tight ball-sac with my right hand and massaged his balls. He didn't object. The balls were real tight against the base of his fat cockshaft. I rubbed the palm of my hand back and forth while he jerked his big cock. I was masturbating with my forearm while playing with Freddie's balls and nipple. On the next down-stroke, Freddie started to cum. He tensed up for the last time and I let him cum. The stuff shot out of him and landed in my hair, on my face, on my chest and finally, the last dribbles, in the puddle we already made on my stomach. Freddie didn't jump out of bed and run away like I thought he would. He held me and stroked my chest while I spewed a geyser onto his hairy tits and stomach. In a couple of days, there were other people in his house: a woman and five kids. We never did it again or spoke about it