Over The Road Married Guy

My straight next door neighbour, over the road, has taken a package from his job, so he has been home lately. We’ve been bumping into each other since we are both home. House husbands, ha ha. I sometimes run with him in the mornings, it is how I got to know him. The first few times we ran, we just happened to be heading out our gates at the same time. We’d smile at each other and nod. Then we’d laugh the next time. Then the next time he said,

“I’m running this way. I’m Rob.”

Other times, when he is out checking the mail, or putting the bins in or out, we get to chatting. He’d look over at me and laugh and say,

“We must be on the same schedule, or something.”

“I promise… I’m not stalking you,” I replied.



Right now, his wife, Sally, is visiting her relatives overseas. Her much loved, globe trotting grand mother is sick, she is eighty. The whole family has descended on Italy.

It won't be much fun, Rob, said Sally. You shouldn't come, you will be bored.



Rob is hot. He's got some kind of European in him, which gives him his dark good looks. He's tall. He's beefy, but slim and hairy. Whenever he pulls his t-shirt off, I've got to concentrate on not staring.

Sally smiled and said take good care of him, she'd never been away from him for so long since they were married.

Rob loves pot, but Sally doesn't let him smoke it. Never. I want you present, she said. Here, with me. Awake. Or I'm not going to want to be married to you. It was that simple, as far as Sally was concerned. The stoner and the non-stoner relationship rarely works. He’d either quit, or she’d take it up and as she was never going to take it up...

So, I was going to look after him, medicinally, I decided. I don’t really know what Sally meant by that, you know, what was in her head? I guess it is some sort of mothering instinct, a need to nurture, or some shit like that. I guess it is some sort nicey nicey play happy families, like we have all been programmed with since we were little kids, I don’t really know. But, I smiled sweetly at the thought and she seemed to be happy with that. I’m sure the images of wiping-his-mouth-of-food-crumbs-and-brushing-his-hair-and-tucking-his-shirt-into-his-pants that spun through my brain weren’t apparent on my face.



It was a warm afternoon and I shared a joint, or three with him, the first Saturday Sally was gone. He was out gardening in his shorts, I kept wandering over and handing him the joint.

Thick, hairy thighs. A hot arse. Little blue shorts hugging his arse just fine. Hot. I could so lick that for him. Just bend over buddy.

And narrow little hips, just two handfuls, and a horse bulge pushing out the front of his little blue shorts. Let me tell you about that, the way Rob fills out his pants. It is very impressive and one of the first things I noticed about him, as you probably understand. In his suit pants, when he used to wear suits, it lay sideways pushing down the material of his those pants in a V, like a big thick sausage. In the relatively thin wool material it always looked a little like he was hard.

In his jeans, he bulged out like he was wearing a cricket box, or something and when he’d sit it was a big mound between his thick thighs.

In running shorts, it pushed out like it was always trying to escape. A coiled snaked trying to burrow through the material that was keeping it at bay.

He caught me looking several times. The first time he looked quizzical, like he wasn’t really sure what he’s just seen me do. The second time he looked slightly alarmed, as he was under no allusion what I was looking at. He knew right at that moment that I was checking out how big he was, I was looking at his big cock. I think the best time was at a neighbourhood bbq, when Sally kissed him good bye out beside the folding chairs in the garden, as she was heading off for some dress fitting for some friend’s wedding, or something like that. They were both a bit drunk, he more than her and Sally must have kissed him fairly passionately and he was in shorts right next to me and he cracked a big woody. All I had to do was look sideways, as his hand came around and massaged it, as he watched Sally walk away. I could make out the thickness of his shaft from where I sat.



They have a single fronted terrace with a tall brick wall out the front, so the front yard is snug and private and no one can see in.



I stood and watched him work. Just perved really, I wasn't trying to hide it... nor was I hitting on him. It was just gay boy enjoying sexy, half dressed straight boy, quietly and comfortably.



We chatted about shit.



His tone changed, to enquiry. "So, you got yourself a boyfriend?" asked Rob.

"No, nobody special."

"So, are you out playing around?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Every guy you meet a prospect, I'd guess." He laughed. "Thinking what it would be like."

"Yes, every guy." I held his gaze deliberately.



I was really shit-faced by that stage, we were quite a few joints down. I think we were on our fourth joint for the afternoon. I'd go back to my place, piss around, lose track of time, think it is time for a joint and rolling it, only to realise, not so long after, it had been less than an hour. I was clobbered. I can't imagine how Rob was feeling, with it being his first in years.



"Every guy?"

"Yes."

He laughed. "Me included?"



Fuck it my stoned head said, if he asks. I looked over at him, in his tight shorts and sexy legs. I let my gaze move deliberately from the bulge in his shorts, to his face. His eyes only hesitated for a millisecond, as mine met his with newly acquired information about how well his cock and balls filled out those shorts, wanting his reaction, his first thoughts.



He cleared his throat. Smiled nervously. Blushed. "I don't think I could have gay sex..."



No one wants to marry you, buddy. I just want to see you pull down the front of those sexy, tight blue shorts. I don't even have to touch. In fact, it would be hotter if we didn't. It would be more innocent, fumbling, more atuned to the punters involved.



"You don't have to have gay sex... if you just pull down the front of your shorts." Jesus! I just said that out loud.

He looked momentarily surprised, for a millisecond. Then he smiled, that creep on to your face despite you kind of smile. "No, I guess not."

"I reckon..." I cleared the catch in my throat. What was I saying? "it would be worth seeing."

His tone changed again. He voice became deeper, huskier. "You want to see it?" he asked, like it was just forming as an idea in his brain.

"I'd love to see it." I got a shiver up my spine. I was tingling all over. "You could show me."

"When?" he practically whispered.

"Now." I said softly. I wasn't sure if I was going to scare him. He was still like a rabbit in the spot light, he could still bolt.

"What here?" He sounded just slightly incredulous. But, we were behind a high brick wall.

I wanted to say it. "I reckon you'd have a beautiful cock."

He smiled bemused. "Do you think about... some guys..." His voice cracked. "You think you want to see their cocks?"

"Of course."

"What did you think when you saw me?" His voice had gone husky.



The world beyond us ceased to exist. It was just me and Rob speaking that which shall never hear it's name spoken out loud.



"I bet he'd have a sexy dick on him that boy. I've always thought it. Haven't you caught me looking?"

"Yes, I have. A few times. At bbq's and in the street a few times."

"I was looking. I've checked your bulge out many a time."

"I know." He smiled. "I didn't mind. It's... it's interesting to know what gay guys think."

"It's big and it's shapely and it pushes on the inside of your work pants out, when you are in a suit.



I looked back down at Rob's crotch. He laughed and moved. He absentmindedly rubbed his crotch.

I was so stoned and so horny that I didn't care, by that stage. Pretty straight boy, I bet he's got a nice cock.

"There you go." I looked at his hand on his bulge. "Rub it some more." My voice cracked.



He held my gaze. “What?”

“Rub it some more.”

He looked down at the front of his shorts. He looked back at me. He started to rub the bulge in his shorts, over his cock around his balls. That's the moment, the hottest moment, when the guy bends, when he gives in and crosses over into gay sex.



"I'd love to watch you play with it." I was shaking like a jack hammer on the inside, but, I think, fortunately it didn't show on the out side, not sure why. Nerves of steal on the outside, while my insides turned to mush. "Would it turn you on to be watched?"



He cleared his throat and started talking in a whisper. "I'd get turned on if I watched you getting turned on by me jacking off." He smiled. "It turns me on, if someone else is turned on by me. That's the buzz... it means you think I'm sexy."



"It all sounds good."

We stood in silence and stillness. Rob held my gaze and then he looked away. He lent back against the front wall of the house. He rubbed his hand down over the front of his shorts.



"You want me to show you?"

"Yes."

"You sure you want to see?"

I want to see your cock, Rob." My cock went hard at that statement.

"I've never done this, not since I got married."

"Before?"

He laughed. "Sure. I was in my twenties, I'd show it to any one."

"Did they like it?"

He laughed again. "Sure, sure they liked it. Never had any complaints."



"Show me."

"Now."

"Sure. Just pull down your shorts. It'll be that easy."



He hooked his thumbs over his waist band and pulled the blue material down. He was semi hard in his orange jocks. Olive skin. Black hair over his thighs. He squeezed his shaft with the palm of his hand. He looked up at me, then back down at his jocks. He hooked the elastic of his jocks with one thumb and pulled the orange material down slowly. His cock slipped out over his jocks elastic.

Thick. Big. Hairy crotch. He closed his eyes and started stroking himself downwards with his right hand. It swelled to a boner, quickly. A big dark salami.



He ran his hand up and down his shaft, progressively getting stronger and stronger. Long, even strokes, he was going to pull himself to cumming right there. Every time our eyes connected, I saw fierce determination.



He bought his hand up to his mouth and dropped a big gob of saliva into it. His cock stood out straight and hard as he dropped the saliva into the palm of his hand.



He lay back against the front wall of the house and closed his eyes as he rubbed his wet hand over his cock. He half smiled and squeezed his eyes tight, clearly it felt good.



He pulled himself rhythmically. He groaned contentedly.

His cock was rock hard. His legs began to shake.



I stepped forward and grabbed his cock, just when it went rock hard and he was about to cum. I ran my hands up and down it. Fuck it was hard.

He gave in and let me.

The next thing I feel is warm liquid running over my wrists.

And a strangled kind of moan and gasping for breath.

His cock was wet and slimy with his jizz. He was leaning back with his eyes closed. I had his cum all over my hands.