Right Next Door!

 It couldn't have been more incredible, if it was the stuff of fantasy. But it wasn't ; it was real. It was like this. I had spent an entire day surfing the net, having cyber sex, looking at porn and my dick was as stiff as a stone fertility idol's. I had to get some relief, and not wanting to go downtown and cruise, decided to go home and beat off. Hell, you don't have to shave, you know what I mean? So I grabbed my briefcase and headed down to the mini van stop. I couldn't help thinking that it would be great if I either met a hot man who'd rub up against me and vice versa, or met my hot driver. I waited and waited and no sign of the #8, and I was at the point of attacking some poor guy who was waiting with me. ANY GUY! That was the state I was in. I thought, "Fuck it, I'll take the 8a, and if I have to walk six blocks, so what." So, I get on the 8a and I ask the driver, "What the hell happened to the #8? I've been waiting for 45 min.!" A very sexy masculine mellow baritone voice from the back said, "They changed the route. It doesn't stop by our building anymore." After the sound of the voice, it was the "our" that got me. A neighbor. So, very curious, I headed toward the voice. Now, I am not the shy type. The way I figure it "a stiff dick has no conscience." At least this has been my experience. Especially in Europe. Europeans seem to be less hung up on the role and label thing, especially when the dick is hard and needs relief. Anyway I headed back to look at him. Being dark and he sitting, it wasn't easy at first. He stood up to move over to the window seat and as I sat down next to him, I got my first look. About 27 years old, light blue eyes very dirty blonde hair. Then, the clincher: he extended the most beautiful and at the same time very manly hand that I had ever seen on anyone...ever. "I'm Slavik. You must be "tarbaby". I've heard about you." Then a smile formed by full, pale brown lips enclosing small even white teeth with one of those spaces in the middle of the uppers. Heaven. When I sat down, I did the butch thing with the legs that guarantees immediate permissible contact- I opened my legs so that my left thigh was pressing against his right. I like that on public transportation and you can tell a lot about a man by his reaction. If he nervously pulls his leg away, forget it. If he looks at you weirdly, but leaves it-your foot is in the door so to speak. If he pretends not to notice and presses back- you're "in like Flynn." This one went one better. He smiled and sorta pressed back. Wow! So, we were riding along and exchanging the usual neighbor pleasantries and gossip. He, besides being a handsome devil, was turning out to be a nice guy. Clearly, the gods must be both crazy and on my side! I did the good neighbor thing and invited the guy in for a drink. He accepted and we went into the kitchen. I didn't want him to feel pressed on or anything, and if something was going to happen between us, I wanted him to enjoy it as much as I. So, we're sitting around and bullshitting and I notice that he's flapping his legs around, like he's nervous. I said, "You really should relax." He answered, "How can I when it's like this?" Then he cupped his balls. I was shocked until he said, "I know about you. People say that you're gay." "Yep," I quipped, "It obviously pays to advertise." "I think that I'm bisexual," he said. I refused to get into the whole "I'm bisexual" thing. My first response to that is always something like "Yea sure, you like men and boys!" This guy seemed so sincere though, and horny. I thought, "Let's get this show on the road!" You have to understand the position that I was in. This guy was both a stranger to me and my neighbor. It wasn't like we weren't going to see each other again. I kept thinking, "If this ends up well...." Physically, my position was advantageous. I was sitting more or less face to face with him. After we both had a couple of shots, he kind of relaxed and extended his legs and leaned his head on the wall behind him. Taking initiative (I'm pretty pushy for a bottom they tell me.) I asked, "Maybe you would be more comfortable if you took off your shoes." Having said that, I sat down on the floor in front of him and started to undo his laces. I like that part, it's so servile. While I was doing that, my head was more or less even with his crotch and he was looking down at me...all eyes and expectation. I noticed that he had begun to press his crotch with his palm, a sure sign that something was stirring in there. I was in no great hurry though. I took off first one shoe than the other. I began to caress and knead his feet, paying special attention to certain points on the soles. I give a pretty good massage. No, I give a damn good massage, especially when I want to impress someone. If he's horny sometime and it comes down to a choice between me and the missus, I want him to come to me. Anyway, he sort of slid down on the chair and I could see his shoulders relax even more. I was certain that his dick was hard because he wasn't letting go of it. He kept up that palm pressure he was giving to himself. "Fine," I thought. "We'll do it your way and in your time." So I continued massaging his feet and legs and he began to look as though he would slide off the chair. While I was rubbing his thighs i just slid right up them to the magic "v" of his enclosed and entrapped in underwear dick and balls. He, to give me access, let his arms fall to his sides. "Too passive," I anxiously mused, "but what the hell. Maybe I can inspire him." As though he read my mind he put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me into him, grinding that mound into my chest. He bent his head towards my neck and began kissing and chewing his way down my neck to my shoulders. I was real glad that there promised to be some turn about to our play. I said, "Maybe we should go into the other room." "Maybe you should take our pants off," was his response. Pulling him up (the pushy bottom again) by the armpits, I worked my hands down and around his body, getting the lay of the land and thrilling to the tightness of his waist and the planks of muscle on his chest. He let his head fall back and raised his arms above his head as if to say, "have at it." So, I did. I loosened his belt and his pants fell and I could see that the pouch of his jockeys was a veritable treasure chest packed full to bursting with the family jewels. The pressure of his pushing dick was enough to cause the waistband of his shorts to pull away from his waist and he wasn't even wearing it up!. As I was looking down into his shorts, I was greeted by that special fragrance belonging only to uncut dicks- musky and earthy at the same time. He started getting aggressive and like a lot of guys, he put one hand on the top of my head and started pushing downwards. I let him do that, but instead of immediately doing away with the shorts, I knelt down in front of him and began chewing on the sack that was holding the prize. I chewed and used my face as a push tool and I was thrilled that his sap started to flow mingling with my spit. I slipped my fingers into the hollow of his ankle and reading me correctly, he tried to step out of his socks. Looking up at him I said, "Let's not rush this, OK?" he nodded agreement and sat back down and I began tonguing and licking his feet and toes and being in no great haste. His eyes got real wide and he said, "Fetish." Just like that. Fetish. No judgment, no surprise, a plain statement of fact. Now, you know and I know that we gay people are fetishists, whether it's jeans or shit or anything in between or beyond. For us it's a mainstream thing but for str8s, well, it's something else. I didn't waste much time thinking about it though and only thought about making him happy enough to want more and more. I put my hand on the dick in front of my eyes and he said, "Well." Well indeed! He picked up his ass a little from the chair and let me slide his shorts down to and past his ankles. His cock was big and fat and uncut, just how I like them, but with a special added bonus. His foreskin completely covered his cock, even when hard, and it had a little overhang. Still in all, it was about 17 cm long getting fatter at the base like a wedge. His big balls were darker than the light tan of his cock and they were pulled up, but the skin around them was crinkly. I put my lips right at the tip and blew, and his whole foreskin around the head blew up like a balloon. For the first time he made a sound that wasn't a word, "phhhhhhyyyyyyyyysssssss." I said, "You like that?" And for an answer he slid forward using the conduit of his skin as a flue into my mouth. Not wanting this to get speeded up, I slid back off and began chewing and licking his foreskin and dickhead. I left the head covered most of the time, skinning him back only to lap up the sap that had accumulated in there. From time to time, I held his swollen shaft with my forehead and went down to his balls. When I did that he would pull up slightly with his hands so that I could get underneath him. Every time I would go a little further along the road to his asshole. Finally, he stood up, lay on my kitchen table and threw his legs up, holding his cheeks apart with his hands. I dove in and after getting him loosened up and wet, stuck my tongue right in. "AAARrrrrrrrgggghhhhh." Then he tried to hold me there by putting his feet hard on my back, while he rocked and squirmed. I changed tactics and started full-tongueing him and he calmed down a bit. I came up for air. "What about you?" he asked pointing at my dick which was pointing up and in his general direction. Without waiting for my answer, he got down and started giving as good as he got. I thought, "This guy is not real. This guy is not real. This guy is not real." Maybe not, but what he was doing to my dick was. I couldn't believe that this almost straight man was giving me a blow job, and not a bad one at that. But I felt that it wasn't his thing, he was wanting me to feel good, but he wasn't into it himself. I pulled him off and up and I took his dick in my hand. He took mine. I said, "Let's see where this takes us." For lube, we used him, actually his cock sap, which seemed to be almost pouring out, if that's possible. I liked it much better than plain spit or grease. We just stood and j/o-ed each other while holding each other's balls in our hands. He would rock and sway and alternately open and close his eyes. Sometimes we would kiss and lick each others nipples, necks and lips. It was very languid and unhurried and it was very erotic and seemed very intense- much more so than other sexual athletics. "I always wondered what being with another man would be like," he admitted. "When I heard about you, I was determined to talk to you. If you were weird in any way, I wouldn't be able to do this. Can I fuck you?" I stalled, "I don't have any condoms in the house." "I have a packet of condoms in my wallet," he responded, "I was waiting for you." Well, if you put it that way.... I thought, "Great. Now for my lecture that my asshole is nothing like a cunt and blah blah blah." Not necessary. He turned me around and bent me over the table and went down on me, almost in one fluid movement. When I was wet, he started putting fingers in my asshole to loosen me up. "How did he know that?" I wondered. While he was fingering me, he nibbled at my ass cheeks. Then he did something really great. Since his cock head is covered by his foreskin even when hard, he used his overhang as an applicator, smearing his precum around and in my asshole. Then he tucked his overhang in my asshole with his finger and giving a little push, slid his cock head in my sphincter and no further. Then he began to twist and turn and every time that his cock would slide in, he pulled out leaving his cock head in the clamp of my sphincter. It was a great sensation, but both of us were ready to continue. He grabbed my dick and jerked it and in a quick thrust, rammed himself all the way in me. I could feel my asshole stretch and clamp around that last 5 cm of his cock and then he quit all movement. I knew what he wanted. He grabbed my cock in his hand again and ass he jerked me, I let the muscles of my sphincter and my asshole massage and clamp and flutter around his cock. He pressed closer to me and I could feel his cock jump and flick and pulse. He said, "Don't come, please. I want you to do the same thing to me." I suggested, "Maybe it will be easier for you if you don't come right now also." He objected, "Nah, I will come three times tonight. I want to come now too, don't you?" I nodded in agreement and concentrated on what I was doing. Soon, he slowly started to ease himself out of my asshole and he felt like the fucking Enterprise docking at a space station in there. I wanted to feel him sliding and not just cruising in there but he held me. He wanted my asshole to milk the scum out of his dick. He said imitating me, knowing that he was making me crazy, "Take your time. Don't rush. We have all night." With the steady insistence of his hand on my own cock, and the feeling of his wedge up my ass, I was getting just plain wacko and sweat began running down my face. I held onto the table and concentrated into turning myself into a human vibrator, thinking "OK. You want to die in my asshole. Die motherfucker!" If we were going to get into a contest, I wasn't going down without a fight. The pushy bottom again. Since he clearly wasn't going to pummel me with his dick or fuck me into a wheelchair like everyone who thinks or wants to be butch in bed tries to do, I wanted him to feel as though his cock was in a crock pot at least, a volcano at best. Focusing my concentration, I willed my body to vibrate, and at first I concentrated on my ass. Big mistake. It wasn't until I began to focus on my chest and abdomen pressed on the table that I began to get the results that I wanted. The first sign: our shot glasses began rattling. The second sign: he lay down on my back and gave me his weight, meaning that for him, all he knew was where his cock was crammed up my hole. So for about 15 minutes , I lay vibrating like a blow-up doll in an electric storm and I could feel his dick get bigger and harder. He said, "i--I--I--I'm gonnnaaaa cuccuuuuuuummmm!", tensed and pulsed and pulsed and pulsed and pulsed. He must've shot two liters of spunk up my ass! As he was doing that he was mashing my balls and beating my cock against the top of the table and I shot all over the floor. After a while he just sorta slid off my back and onto the floor. I turned around and he was sitting and smiling and looking for all hell like the proverbial cat that ate the bird. I felt pretty good myself because as you know and I know, good fuck buddies are hard to come by and keep. That was three weeks ago and he stops by every evening. Sometimes, we just talk.