Reagan's Neighbor Daddy

At 28, Reagan still called himself The Almost Virgin. It wasn't his fault really. It wasn't that he hadn't sucked and fucked his way around, but discreetly. And, yeah, he admitted to himself, it was pretty vanilla and predictable.

At 28, Reagan realized his natural personality and way of being needed, well, the simplest thing is to say, he needed to be seduced. He eyed the hot dominant Daddies wherever he saw them: in RL or on the net. Their masterful presence always seemed to overwhelm and when he read the erotica about how they sexually took possession of younger men never failed to make his dick hard as stone and he would have to jerk off. 

Thinking about it now, Reagan's fingers veered down and scraped along the front of his tight denims. His dick shaft was already half-swollen and plump, the head growing sensitive. It was one of his fantasies that he'd be in some older man's living room, sitting beside him. There was hot porn on the television showing a young man sucking an older man's thick cock. In the fantasy, Reagan felt the man's hand settle over his hardening dick in his jeans as they watched together. Then the man took Reagan's hand and placed it over his large hard cock in his pants. The size and hardness made Reagan gasp. And then he always woke up from the fantasy with a lot of sticky clear precum that had leaked out through the crotch of his jeans. That turned him on, too. 

Sometimes, Reagan would hang out on his bed, with his jeans pulled down just playing with his cock and balls. He was glad that he'd started shaving them, too. It felt awesome and looked hot, he thought. He'd squeeze his fingers around the rigid root just pushing down against his balls and imagine it was some older man. Seducing him. Whispering in his ear in a low manly voice, “Do you like that?” 

Reagan would squirm, hearing the imaginary voice in his ear. “Yes,” he'd whisper in answer. 

Then suddenly Reagan's fingers would be clutching the older man's heavy cock and hearing the man ask again, “Do you like that?”

“I fucking love this...Daddy,” Reagan, shocked, heard himself say. “May I suck on you...Daddy?” 

Each time it cycled around, Reagan thought more and deeper about the fantasy. He surprised himself by absent-mindedly going through a whole bottle of lube masturbating. Like a small child's prayer at bedtime, every night in the darkness, Reagan would whisper out loud, “May I suck on you, Daddy?” before jacking off. It was a kind of sex life, he supposed. Though one-sided. Then Mr. Jackson moved into the apartment right across from Reagan's. Second floor, bedrooms facing each other with a slim balcony off the bedroom French doors.

Reagan had been working from home that week and had his laptop out on the balcony with a chair to enjoy the brief wintersunshine. With the drapes back and the French doors opened, Reagan could see right through his new neighbor's bedroom and part of his hallway. Of course, he realized with a start the same view of his apartment could be seen by his new neighbor. 

He seemed to be one of those still fit older men with a silvery unkempt mane and slim beard. His wide shoulders and strong arms flexed beneath his shirt as he carried boxes and bags into the lightly furnished bedroom. Even at this distance, Reagan could tell the man's legs and thighs were muscular under his khaki pants, especially when he bent to unpack the boxes. Suddenly, Reagan caught himself and felt guilty. Like he was doing a peeping Tom thing on this new neighbor. He was about to turn away when he noticed the man was unbuttoning his shirt and slipping his khakis down to the carpet. Reagan almost blushed, but he kept looking, staring really now. As he kept looking, the man began oiling his nude body. Reagan could see him clearly and it stirred him awfully hard. Reagan's dick strained in his jeans and more precum leaked to stain his crotch, but he didn't care. This was too hot to turn away from.

The man's buttocks were tight and firm, Reagan could see and as the man's hands reached behind to rub the oil, Reagan grunted and grabbed his own dick. He started stroking the shaft and then stopped again. The man was turning around, still very visible in the window. Reagan started to panic. What if the man saw him? Caught him staring and...? But, fuck! Reagan's fingers froze around his own dick when he saw the new neighbor's erect cock. It was a hole stetcher, he could tell. Thick and meaty, even at this distance. The fat head almost glistening with oil as the man poured and rubbed. Reagan couldn't stop the groan that came out of his mouth. It was the body of his dream Daddy in the flesh. Just across the way from his bedroom window. His Daddy's bedroom.