I did a double take the first time I saw him. Okay, more like a triple take, and an outright stare. I may have drooled a little as I stood beside my car staring at the big stud as he got out of his own car.
He looked like Joe. Well, sort of. Same scruffy face, dark stubble with a dark moustache. Same build, more or less. Same dark hair from what I could tell underneath a baseball hat turned backwards. The back of his hair was shaved short, and I could see the outline of a dark hairline straight across the underside of his hat.
He was shirtless and was getting out of his car. His upper torso was smooth though, where Joe was all man, with that big sculpted hairy chest. This guy was thickly muscled, beefy but solid. He was a meaty looking man, not as ripped and defined as Joe, but equally strong with muscles that looked like they were created through manual labour and not just from hours at the gym. He had very wide broad shoulders which showed off his thick neck and bubbled pecs. His stomach was flat, not washboard ab flat, but flat enough, with the very obvious definition of that v-shaped muscle at his hips that ached to be licked as it disappeared into the slightly loose dark blue workpants he had around his waist. He looked tough, very blue collar, like one large smooth gorilla, with the big shoulders, the arms hanging down and away from his body. He had a few tattoos, one on his left pec, another on his right bicep, and another one on his left forearm. I couldn’t tell what they were on first glance, but the darkness of them fit well with his tanned coloured skin, and the sheer size of him.
He was well over 6 feet and a hefty thick 250lbs at least I figured, even though he wasn’t at all fat. Besides the blue work pants, he only had a pair of faded steel toed work boots, so the contrast of his smooth bare chest made him look like he stepped out of a gay calendar. Just for me. I half expected him to throw a heavy coiled rope over his shoulder and walk in slow motion towards me with sparks going off in the background.
Sparks were certainly going off in my head as I froze in place, shutting my own car door and trying not to overtly stare at this rough looking man. He looked like he was in his 30s, making my own almost 25-year-old self feel young and small in comparison.
I hadn’t been this intrigued by a man since Joe died almost four months ago now. Living in this three-storey apartment building on my own, gathering my own will power to face the days after my desperate call to and visit from my former lover, Professor Tom Davies, ended in awkward conversation. Tom had submitted to my advances and finally penetrated not only my hardened shell of grief, but my ass as well. But then he admitted to having a boyfriend, and I had to force myself to get on with my life. Despite my true lust for the Professor who was now with someone else. Despite missing Joe every day. Despite wanting to die.
The man eyed me with sudden interest as he had moved to the other side of his car and was now pulling his lunchbox out of the passenger seat. I guess I was staring too much as he now faced me. I watched the cords of his muscles flex as he closed the door and shifted his stuff into his other hand and turned to walk along the sidewalk towards my building. I followed suit, leaving our cars parked along the side of the building outside and followed his round, bubbled ass from a somewhat safe distance.
He opened the building door and glanced over his shoulder behind him, towards me, extending a large arm outward to hold the door open for me. I could see a small patch of light hair underneath a perfect armpit, bicep extended lengthwise with a noticeable definition line. I wanted to yell “Flex it for me!” but held it in as I did a pretend little run towards the gentlemanly offer.
“Thanks.” I said quietly.
“No problem kid.” He said, gruffly, unlocking the interior door with the key he had ready and also holding it open for me behind him. His back looked just fine, that line down the middle showing off thick shoulder blades and a completely smooth tanned sheen with great muscular definition. Maybe he did visit a gym after all. He had that beefy, masculine, don’t-mess-with-me sort of vibe going on and it was making me shake for the first time in years.
He moved right up the flight of stairs that were directly ahead of us, taking two steps at a time with easy strides, obviously not living on the first floor. I was on the top floor, the third, smack in the middle facing out to the line of outdoor parking spots we just left. There weren’t many apartments in this building, with about 7 units on each floor.
I was pleasantly surprised to see him round the corner after two flights and head up the final flight of stairs to my floor as I followed that beefy round ass, staring at it overtly. He lived on my floor! He looked down at me as our eyes came into contact as he reached the top floor with me coming right around behind him. He gave me a little smile, as if he liked the fact that I was following him. A big hand came onto the railing as he pushed himself towards the hallway, and I noted no wedding ring.
He was already moving down the hallway on my floor as I came to the top. I fumbled for my keys as I kept my eyes ahead, watching his ass move, the muscles flexing on their own as he too shifted items to one hand to free up the other one still holding his keys, glancing over his shoulder and seeing me behind him.
I stopped at the middle unit, turning to pretend to open my door but watched to see where he was going, wondering which apartment was his and why I hadn’t noticed him around here yet. He stopped abruptly at the corner apartment, directly beside mine and turned in my direction again.
I slid my key into the door as if suddenly afraid he caught me looking when I heard his gruff voice echo down the hallway.
“You live there.”
It wasn’t a question. I jerked my head back towards him, seeing him standing there, his tanned bare torso looking absolutely exceptional in the hallway lighting, all glistening muscled glory, with his chin up a bit and a half smile, waiting for me to acknowledge his statement.
“Uh, yeah. I moved in a couple weeks ago.” My heart was thumping at this manly god that lived next door to me. I hadn’t paid any attention to anyone when I moved the few things I owned in. And I barely came and went since then, preferring to slump against the walls inside and eat next to nothing, so it was no wonder I had no idea who lived next door, let alone encountered him before.
He dropped his stuff to the floor in a loud clatter and walked back down the hall towards me. I noticed the way his pecs bounced a bit, making my eyes drift downwards to them and imagining those perfect dark nipples in my mouth. “Just you?” He asked, giving an upward jerk of his head as if he was eyeing me up and down.
I unlocked my door and let it open a bit and nodded. “Yeah. Just me.”
He held out a large paw as he got closer. “You look pretty young to be on your own.” He smiled, changing the tough, angry look on his face to an even more handsome, less threatening one. “Mario.” He said simply as I took his hand. Standing this close to him, my eyes level with his rounded pecs, was making me dizzy.
“I’m 24. I’ll be 25 soon.” I said squeezing his hand as firm as I could. It felt like a warm pillow wrapped around me as he gave me a strong shake, his hand much bigger than my own. I did my best to match his grip, and we sort of held it for a moment as I looked up into his dark brown eyes. “I’m Brian.”
“Brian. Nice to meet you. 24 eh? Sorry…you look way younger….” He looked over my shorter 5’9” frame, his eyes moving down my muscular smooth looking legs on display from my shorts. I still had broad shoulders even though I had lost about 20 pounds since Joe died. I was still very fit and muscular myself, but leaner now than ever. My waist was a thin 28 inches, and even at that my shorts were tightened by a belt. “There aren’t too many young kids around here. Mostly divorced old guys like me. Or retired old bitties.”
Mario let go of my hand and put his hands on his waist. He looked like he was double the size of me, at least 6 inches taller. My eyes were almost level with his perfect looking nipples, perfectly round and smooth, small pink nubs sticking out of the slightly darker pink circles. He was a solid, stocky guy, who worked hard and stayed fit, and obviously liked to show off as he stood in front of me, shirtless. Just one hunky, meaty looking man….
“I haven’t really met any neighbours since I moved in.” I felt like a kid stuttering.
“Well, you met me. Don’t be a stranger now.” He squinted one eye, his head turned on his thick neck and his lips puffed outwards. “You single?”
I nodded without thinking about why he was asking, but hoping he was too. And hoping he was into me like I was into him. “Yep. Just me.”
He gave me a playful punch on the shoulder, super light as if on purpose because he was afraid he’d knock me over. “Well, us single guys have to stick together. It’s mostly white hairs in this building.” He pointed a thumb backwards to the corner where his stuff was after giving me another look up and down. “If you ever need a hand with anything, I’m right next door.”
I blushed a little, humbled by his offer. “Much appreciated.”
“Seriously. I mean it. I do absolutely nothing other than work all day and go to the gym. Would be good to have some company or feel useful to someone other than horny old ladies.”
No kidding you go to the gym, I thought to myself as I looked at his strong upper body. I wanted to ask him so many questions but felt awkward as I doubted this man was gay, let alone interested in me. Plus, after the embarrassment with my professor recently, I wasn’t ready for anything to be honest.
“Horny old ladies huh?” I looked up at his straight nose that suited his slightly round face perfectly. He smiled at me and I noticed two dimples underneath the dark scruff. “I”ll be on the lookout. And is there a gym nearby?” And yet, something in me let a little flirting out. “I’m new to this area, and really need to get back at it.”
He pulled his head back and eyed me again. “Looks like you haven’t stopped.” He reached out and squeezed my left shoulder. “You’ve got massive shoulders on you for your size so I’m guessing you want to bulk up a bit more?”
I felt warmth rush down my body as Mario’s large hand touched me. It had been almost four months now since I had felt another man touch me like that. Other than Tom’s large hands just a few weeks ago, trying to stop me from riding him, much to his avail.
“Yeah, I’ve got to put back on some muscle.” I looked down at my own lean body feeling rather shy, but something made me keep going. “I’ve had a rough couple of months, so trying to kick my ass in gear.”
He slapped my arm again playfully, and I saw his pecs squeeze together as he folded his arms over them. “I hit a gym on my way home from work, but I know there’s one over in the plaza.” He pointed north and I pictured the strip mall down the road, picturing a sign for a familiar chain of gyms. “I was thinking of switching to it as some days I just don’t feel like going on my way home from work. I figured if it was closer, that might give me something to do at night. Would be good to have a buddy to go with so we can kick each other’s asses!” He chuckled to himself and put a hand to his stomach. “Or else this is going to get bigger again!”
I let my eyes fall down to his flat belly button after he moved his hand away. He didn’t have a hair on him, just naturally smooth. I looked up at the tattoo on his pec and noticed it was a compass, with mountains in the inside and four directional arrows pointing out. He noticed me looking and his pec automatically flexed.
“Honouring the four directions.” He simply said, following my eyes to his own huge pec. I figured he must be part Indigenous, which would explain his naturally darker complexion. But he looked like he was part Italian the way he reminded me of Joe and the name ‘Mario’ was an obvious hint. As my eyes went back up to his, those dark brown eyes looked back at me and I saw the lines in the corners wrinkle as he smiled. “Listen I probably stink as hell, so I’m gonna grab a shower. But if you are free tonight, I can bring over some drinks and get to know my new neighbour? Or if you just need anything, or you need help putting stuff together, let me know. Seriously, I don’t go anywhere, just sort of hang out on my own, so….” He held up both hands and gave an awkward thumbs up as he backed up.
“Uh…sure!” I said, making him stop. “I’m free. Why not.” I smiled at him, not moving, watching him smile back before he put his hands together in a clap.
“Cool. Give me like an hour and I’ll come back.” He turned around and seemed to purposefully walk slower to amplify the shape of his ass. At least, that’s what I was thinking.
I hadn’t moved at all until he bent to pick up his things from the ground, and opened his door, turning to me and surprised to see me still staring at him. He held up his free hand and gave a wave. “Think about the gym too! I’ll see you in a bit kid.” And he disappeared into his place and closed the door.
I think I breathed out at last and stepped into my own apartment. It was only the beginning of May, but it had been unseasonably hot, hot enough for my neighbour Mario to ride home shirtless, and hot enough for me to be in a pair of shorts. But I felt hotter than ever, and old feelings stirred inside me.
I wanted to know about him, where he worked, how old he was, if he had any kids, why was he divorced and why in heaven’s name was he single and living next door to me? This was going to be torture if I have to keep seeing this hunk every day, let alone asking him for help or to just “hang” with him. He had to be at least ten years older than me, so I found it odd that he was offering. Maybe he was just lonely and thought I looked like I needed a friend. I suddenly wondered if he could hear me crying at night when I first moved in? Or if heard the ruckus when Tom came over.
I plopped down on my chair in the living room, suddenly remembering Professor Tom coming to my aid when I called him, and how I had practically ripped his clothes off and made him fuck me. I let all the pent-up frustrations out, using him as a means to an end to feel alive again. But it didn’t help when he admitted to having a boyfriend, having moved on in the five years after I had dumped him. It only made me cry even harder when he left, but at least I knew I COULD move on.
And now there was a hunky next-door neighbour. Things might be looking up after all.
I suddenly felt rejuvenated, as if Joe was purposefully sending me someone to move on with. But a straight guy? I didn’t even know if I was gay, or straight, or bi at this point. At 24, I was keeping to myself, feeling like I couldn’t find another man like Joe so pretending to just go along with the assumptions I was straight. Lately, I was even wondering if I could be with another man and was starting to convince myself to find a woman, just so I wouldn’t have to keep thinking about Joe.
But here was Mario, a new reminder.
I found some leftover food and tried to keep myself busy for the next hour until a solid knock at my door startled me out of the quietness of my bare apartment. Without thinking, I went to the sound and opened it tentatively, seeing the new hunk next door standing there with a grin.
Mario had no hat on this time. His hair was a bit longer on top than I expected, still wet from an obvious recent shower with it looking very “bed head messy” around his thick skull. He looked downright sexy. He had a t-shirt on, that clung to his body as if it was a bit snug in all the right places, his chest a protruding pound of flesh underneath with those dark nipples pointing through the material. He had jeans on, and was barefoot. Big, wide, smooth bare feet. I felt my loins stir once again.
His shoulders were rounded as he held his hands behind his back. “Hey. Thought I’d give you a proper welcome.” He pulled his right hand out to produce a six-pack of beer and grinned even wider. “Welcome to the building.”
I hesitated, looking at the beer, remembering the last time I drank it and how I had discovered some sort of allergy to it in the hardest way. As if he sensed it, his left hand came out with a bottle of red wine. “Or if you prefer….?”
I actually laughed and pointed at the red. “Now you’re talking.”
He tilted his head a bit and showed his white teeth. Fuck he was handsome. I couldn’t see why this hot man was divorced, let alone single. “Keep em both.” He stuck out his big arms towards me forcing both items into my hands and then shoved his hands in his pockets. “To be honest, I do like a nice red at night.”
And then we stood there for a moment, just staring at each other.
“Well, come in and I can open it.”
He peered behind me at the sparse room and shrugged. “Well, I never say no to alcohol.”
I held the door open, and he stepped in and just stood to the side. I only had a chair and a sofa in my living room, not even a coffee table. No bookshelves, not even a tv yet. Boxes were still lined up in spots, as I avoided the unpacking and memories.
“Did you, like, just move in today?”
I ducked into the kitchen to find some glasses to put the wine in. Now wine glasses I had, among the few dishes I had out. It was a screw top, so it was easy to open and pour out. Mario was still standing by the door when I came back in with the glass and handed it to him.
“Actually, a couple weeks ago but I’ve had a hard time getting things going. You can sit down. I don’t have much out, it’s been kind of…um, hard unpacking…”
He squinted his eyes a bit at me and then raised his glass up and clinked mine. “Here’s to new neighbours.” He took a swig and I watched his lips part over the glass. He had full lips, and I bet they felt soft in a kiss.
I broke my stare after a gulp of my own and moved to the chair to give him ample space on the sofa, which he finally moved to. I watched his legs stretch the fabric of his dark blue jeans, the outline of his knee as he sat down. My eyes fell to his feet spread out before him, the crisscross of veins running along the top of his foot popping out as he pushed down on the floor to sit back a bit.
“Well, you are a welcome sight rather than the old lady that lived here before you!” Mario said with a laugh. He rolled his eyes as I looked at him.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, she was something. Negative Nancy I called her. Every time I saw her she complained to me about something, like I was in charge of the building or something: there’s never a parking spot close to the door, or can’t this sidewalk be shoveled, and why don’t they have an elevator for us old people.” He let out a breath and loud “Geez” before he rolled his eyes again and sat back and relaxed. “And she was always flirting.” He let his head fall back in a hmph and took another swig. “She was like 70-something for Christ’s sake, but always touching me.” His smile was warming me, as was the wine.
“Well, can you blame her? I mean look at you!” I blurted out, giving him a raised brow and taking a drink in embarrassment at the comment. “I mean, you must get that a lot – the flirting.”
He shrugged. “It’s just cause I’m big.” He took a swig and sort of eyed me cautiously, before he grinned at me. “I’m sure you have no problems yourself with those eyes.”
I gave a dismissive sound and sat back myself. There was a brief pause as we both took another sip, and I started to let my fantasy brain wonder why he was really here.
“But I do have to ask….” He put his glass between his spread legs, holding it gingerly with his big fingers, and I couldn’t help but let my eyes fall down to his crotch, noting the half-moon shaped cuticles on his fat fingers around the wine glass, and the large package nicely displayed behind it. “You okay?”
His question surprised me, that phrase that I often heard from Tom, always asking if I was okay. “Yeah. I’m okay. Why?” I was almost defensive, and I think he sensed it. He leaned forward, moving the glass with him, shifting his ass forward on the sofa a bit.
“Sorry. I think that came out wrong.” He held up a hand and looked down. “I mean, I’ve haven’t really seen you around since you moved in, but these walls aren’t that thick. I thought I heard you…well, I’ve heard a few times…you just seem…well really sad or something.” He said the last part quietly, and kind of looked up at me under his thick brows. “Just an observation, that’s all.”
I looked down at his feet again, taking them in as I pushed back emotions. I didn’t want to get into it or anything, but I was surprised that this hunk noticed or cared.
“Don’t mean to pry or anything but it just looks like you could use a friend. And I know how that feels.” His deep voice was now softer, and when I looked up he was looking at me with those dark brown eyes that just sucked me in. “My wife dumped me a few years ago now, and I can’t seem to motivate myself to do anything. Just work, working out, and avoiding old ladies around here.”
I let my eyes fall down to his feet again and swallowed awkwardly. “I’ve had a bit of a rough go.” I said quietly, testing out my own voice on this, not wanting to say too much but at the same time, latching on to this outreach of support. “I lost someone very close to me recently. Died in a car accident.”
“Oh man, I’m so sorry.” Mario nodded sympathetically, but didn’t say anything more.
“So, I’m just trying to move on. I guess, like you?” I added and waited in silence.
He studied me for a moment, suddenly feeling on the spot. “Yeah.” He snorted. “Move on. Not easy is it?” He gave me a sneer and sipped his wine again before he scooted his ass forward to the edge of his seat. “Can I ask who died? Was it like, a parent? Is that why you’re on your own?” He finally asked.
I shook my head. “No. A…” I hesitated, unsure of how Mario would react. But I let out a long breath through my mouth and met his questioning eyes. I didn’t want to hide anymore. Joe had taught me that. “My boyfriend. Joe.”
Mario’s eyes didn’t waver, and he gave me a pursed lip look and nodded sympathetically. “I’m sorry to hear that. Boyfriend huh?” His big fingers linked around the glass and finally his eyes looked down. “I would never have guessed.”
I waited, to see what he really thought as he stared at me.
“How long were you two together?” He asked me quietly.
“Three years.” I said in a fog. I took another drink and met his dark brown eyes square on. “We were living together.”
At that, Mario reached for his glass. “That’s rough man.”
“Life sucks.” I said with a small snort.
“I’ll drink to that!” He said suddenly, raising his glass.
It made me snort even louder, a little smile emerging from my face at his sudden exuberance at changing the subject. I obliged and took a drink with him. “And you? How long were you married?”
He leaned back, letting his big shoulders hit the back of the couch and stretched his feet out in front of him, giving me a view of the soft underside of the pads of his pink feet, smooth and unblemished. “Five long years. Hah!” He slapped his big knee. “Two years now divorced. And still trying to move on.” He raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Needless to say I’m a little tentative when it comes to women. Once burned, twice shy they say. So I kind of keep to myself now.”
He crossed his feet at the ankles, swaying them back and forth unconsciously as he studied me. I could feel his eyes on me. I was intrigued by him, trying hard not to look at him from head to toe while he sat lounging back on my couch with a now second glass of red wine between his meaty fingers. We drifted into casual talk, me telling him about my job that I was hoping to return to soon, him telling me he was a shift worker at the steel factory, how his wife had cheated on him, how he didn’t know many people in the city as he had lived on the east coast all his life before he met his wife and she encouraged him to move out here. He left his family and friends for her, only to be burned a couple years later.
“All our friends were hers, and let’s just say she spun quite the tale.” He raised his eyes at me and downed the remaining liquid in his glass. I immediately jumped up and took the glass from him as there was nowhere to put it.
“Want some more?” I asked, standing over him holding it up. His eyes looked at me for a moment and then he shrugged.
“Why not. It’s not like I have to drive home.” His throaty chuckle was endearing, and I was feeling pretty comfortable with him. “Unless you’re trying to get me drunk.”
I paused, turning to give him a quick smile. “Well, you do remind me of Joe….”
I saw the look, and his eyes widened a bit, but I laughed before he could say anything.
“It’s okay straight man. I promise I’ll behave.” I felt the silence as I filled his glass and then returned with it full for him. I felt the spark though when our fingers touched as I handed it to him. And I caught the way he looked at me when he took it.
I cleared my throat and took a long swig before I finally looked him in the eyes. “Joe and I were serious though. Like it wasn’t some fling we had. We talked about getting married if it ever became legal somewhere. Or at least go to a place to have one of those commitment ceremonies. We had lived together for the past three years. And then, just after Christmas, in the beginning of January of this year we were on our way home from his parents and….” I paused, wondering how much I should tell him, wondering how much I would be able to say without my emotions taking over. But I felt like I needed to try to tell someone, and Mario seemed the easy going type. “It was a kind of freak thing as we stopped to help out another car accident. We were helping out these people at Joe’s insistence, and as we stood on the side of the road, another car…a truck…skidded out of control and hit him.” I watched his eyes widen, and saw him look away as he let it sink in. I looked down, and took another swig of my wine to stop my own shaking hand at the memory as he sat there. “He didn’t die right away. Brain dead they told me. Well, told his sister. His family turned off the machines after we waited a week to see….”
“I’m so sorry to hear Brian.” Mario sat forward, and rubbed his stubbled chin. “That’s awful. So you saw it all happen? Right in front of you?” He didn’t finish, but his eyes were kind, and I felt totally at ease with this giant straight man.
“Yeah. He pushed me out of the way. And since we weren’t a normal couple, I kind of lost everything. Joe. Our house. Everything.”
I avoided his eyes, wondering what he was thinking.
“Well shit kid. No wonder you’ve been crying in here.” He leaned forward and put a big hand on my knee and squeezed it. “So now you told someone, so don’t’ go getting all depressed and sad. Been there, done that, and it sucks you in. So no more. I mean it when I say I’m here if you ever need anything. ANYTHING. Got it?” His eyes widened at me, as if I would say something in protest. Instead, I just gave him a small smile and took a swig as I stared back down at the size of his hand on my leg. And thought about how good it felt.
Then he lifted it off and I heard him sit back again and I saw his glass lifting to those thick lips again. I looked up at him, taking him in again and some very dirty thoughts went through my mind suddenly.
There was an awkward moment of silence but it didn’t last long as Mario cleared his throat again. “Glad you told me. And hey,” he pointed his finger at me, “I’m serious about the gym. I really could use a buddy to keep me motivated.” He raised his glass at me, waiting for me to look at him. “And I think it’d be good for you to, to get back at it, and get yourself out there.” His smile warmed me, and I realized I was holding my breath, wondering if he was going to storm out or beat me up. Instead, he just smiled at me.
“Thanks Mario. I probably should get back to the gym, and civilization.” I rolled my eyes and I could hear him laughing a bit. Not at me, but to make me feel relaxed.
Mario stood up suddenly and came over to me, putting a big hand on my shoulder. It felt heavy and warm as he gave me a gentle squeeze. “Let’s help each other out then. ‘Kay kid?” I looked up into his eyes and he was still smiling. But this wasn’t any porn fantasy, so he patted my shoulder like a big brother and set his empty glass down on the counter in the kitchen before he padded those big bare feet to the door. “Alright kid, I’ve stayed long enough. Gotta get up early so I’ll leave you to it.” I watched his big hand turn the doorknob before he stopped and looked at me. “Don’t be a stranger now.” He said pointing at me before he disappeared out the door.
I figured I’d never see this straight hunk again, now that he knew I was into men and sad. Even though I went to my bed and jerked off a huge load thinking about this giant man plowing me silly. He was probably scared, just like so many semi-straight guys in my past, especially Mac, the offensive lineman I once had a passionate thing with during second year just before Joe. Once again, I thought I had blown it, that Mario was too straight and too scared to be with me now that he knew I was into guys, and I wouldn’t see him again.
But the big lug surprised me by knocking on my door the following night.
He was wearing another tight-fitting tee, with the same loose jeans and the same big bare feet. But he was holding a toolbox instead of a bottle of wine. His big brows were raised as I opened the door and he flashed me a wide white grin. “I saw your table still in the box and figured you needed a real man to put it together for you?”
I gave a small laugh and pushed the door open wide. “You think I can’t put a table together?”
He looked into my apartment. “Well you haven’t yet, so….” He held up the toolbox, making his bicep bulge for me, even if he wasn’t intending too. “I figured Joe was the one who built things.” He gave me a little wink and waited.
“If you want more wine you don’t have to put things together for me.”
This time he laughed and stepped in. “Well, you know I never say no to alcohol.” I watched him move right over to the flat box that was on the floor to the side of the couch he was sitting on last night. He noticed and wanted to help. And as he started to put together my coffee table, I sat and helped, holding things, handing him things, staring at things, his back, his ass, his feet, his arms.
And every now and then he’d catch me and just smile, not saying anything.
I wondered if he was really there to put my table together, but when it was finished after only two glasses of wine, he up and left again, thanking me for the wine, and pointing at things he wanted me to put away to organize my place better, for the next time he came over. My hopes dashed again that he was there for something more.
For a whole week he came over every night, seeing something to put together and telling me he’d be back the next night. I got to know him more, knew that he was 35, was married at 28, divorced at 33, had no kids, had a big family back east, or “down east” as he called it. He was the oldest of five, with three sisters and the youngest a brother, about my age he said. He told me I reminded him of his kid brother, which was probably why he always called me kid. And I shared more about me, about my mother, about my baseball coach and about how I met Joe, and the stupid things I had done before that with both men and women. He listened intently, never asking too much, nor judging me for anything I had done, or who I had done. He was the first guy I had been this open with, without it resorting to anything sexual. Even though I’d spent every night that week after he left tugging my meat and exploding at the thought of him, he never gave any indication of interest in me sexually. And I found that completely okay after 7 days.
Then he skipped a night, and I was disappointed to be honest. I was getting used to hanging out with my hunky straight neighbour next door. But I had things put together like he ordered, dishes in the cupboards, a coffee table and end tables beside my couch, a lamp, and a bookshelf. My place started to look like I actually lived there, and I suddenly wanted to impress him and make him proud.
The next night, on the Saturday, a whole week and two days after I first laid eyes on the man, he knocked on my door again, and entered for a drink, apologizing for skipping a night. He admitted he had to run some errands and take care of a few things. I had protested, saying he didn’t need to apologize, but he brought a bottle of wine to make up for it, and proceeded to help himself in my kitchen, grabbing the wine glasses, and sharing with me that he had the next three days off.
He had a different pair of jeans on, a little more snug on his 250lb frame, hugging his ass so nicely, and making his feet look even more scrumptious as he stood barefoot in my kitchen. I loved that he never seemed to wear shoes or socks and would just walk over barefoot. He had on a heavy metal concert shirt – Black Sabbath – that stretched over his big pecs and arms. His hair was still wet from a shower he must have just had, and I could smell a new cologne on him.
He didn’t put anything together this time, but commented on how homey the place was now, and he was happy to see that it looked like someone actually lived here. He sat on the far end of the couch and patted the other end for me to sit nearer him, which was new. And after two glasses of wine, our conversation changed.
“So….” He began, turning to face me completely on the couch, lifting a leg and sitting under his foot. I stared at his hand as it rested on his thigh. “Have you been seeing anyone since Joe died?”
I took a sip of wine and stared back at him, wondering what he was getting at. “Nope.”
Mario grinned at me. “Come on, why not? You have got to put yourself out there.”
I scrunched my face at him. “Well what about you? I don’t see you bringing home anyone either in the almost two weeks I’ve known you. And in case you haven’t noticed, you’re a fucking stud.”
His face showed the shock of my comment, his mouth dropped open, and he burst out laughing.
“Sorry.” I blushed at him, looking down at my wine. “But you are you know.”
He tilted his head a bit and let his finger rub the edges of his wine glass. “Well thanks. I take that as a huge compliment coming from you. And I’m glad you think so.”
I looked at him looking at me and bit my lip. He wasn’t saying anything further or looking away and I suddenly wondered what he was getting at. And then he took another swig and finished his glass, shifting in his seat to put the glass down on my newly assembled coffee table and he leaned back on the couch, folding his big arms over his chest and smiled at me.
“So, when was the last time you had sex?”
I coughed on my wine, laughing suddenly and put my own glass down. I sat back, looking at him as he raised an eyebrow at me. “Well, that’s rather forward.”
He shrugged. “It’s been a while for me. Probably six months now.”
I gasped at him. “YOU haven’t had sex in six months?!”
He frowned at me. “Why is that a shock? I told you I don’t get out much.”
I shook my head. “No way. I mean, have you looked at yourself in the mirror? I figured you’d be beating them all away with sticks.”
He rolled his eyes and shifted again in his seat. I could feel the wine hitting me and I felt more than comfortable having this conversation with this straight hunk. “Just the old ladies.” He said with a grin. “Sex is complicated I guess. Every time I get involved with someone it turns into something more. And I just don’t want that. At least not yet. Not too many women are into the whole friends with benefits sort of thing. They’re too clingy.”
I squinted at him, kind of nodding in agreement. “Yeah. I guess. I used to get too attached once I had sex with someone. And then I met Joe.”
“Did you ever cheat on him?” He asked me suddenly and I automatically shook my head.
“Never. Not once. I loved him.” I said without thinking.
Mario nodded. “Yeah, I was the same. Never cheated. But Heather did. MORE than once!” He rolled his eyes again and shrugged. “Oh well!”
I couldn’t help but stare at him. He was my kind of guy, big and muscled, sexy and smart even though he was rugged and manly. He seemed like the perfect guy. Too bad he was straight.
“So, it’s been almost the same amount of time for you then?” Mario’s voice had changed a bit, gone softer and he put his hands behind his head and looked at me. I could see his biceps flared out as he held the back of his head looking at me. Just like Sandra’s father did the first time I sat with him.
“Well, a couple weeks ago I had sex actually.” I admitted, thinking about my professor coming to see me after a desperate emotional call to him.
Mario sat up suddenly. “You bastard! With who?!” He was genuinely interested and slapped my leg in jest.
I grinned. “A guy I sort of dated before Joe. I called him, and I sort of…well,….” I shrugged, covering my mouth with my hand. “I sort of made him!”
Mario leaned forward. “Oh yeah?” He was smiling, seeming to be interested in my tale.
I nodded, picking up my glass to drink some more as I watched Mario’s eyes shift.
“Well look at you getting back in the saddle. Go cowboy!” He looked up at me and saw me nodding still, my eyes roaming as I thought about Tom, and how I had practically begged him to fuck me. “Must have felt good, to enjoy it again.”
I turned back to him, seeing him sitting forward with his one leg tucked under his ass, his hands clasped in front of his crotch looking at me. He licked his lips and took a big breath.
“So…what do you like to do with a guy?” His voice was even quieter now, and he seemed to be somewhat shy asking.
I felt my eyes narrow as I studied his face. He didn’t turn away but seemed genuinely interested. I finished my drink and set the glass down and mimicked his seated position, moving a foot underneath my ass and turning to face him. “I like to do a lot. Love to kiss a man, feel his scruffy face and lips on me. Love to suck.”
Mario was nodding, staring at me with a sudden look of interest as I spoke. So I kept going.
“And I was always the bottom.”
His eyes questioned me. “Bottom?”
I grinned at this straight guy. “I’m the one who likes getting fucked.”
He sat back, looking at me with an impressed look. “Like, in the ass?”
I nodded again, letting my hands rub down my thighs as I licked my own lips. “Yeah, like, in the ass.”
He gave a sort of “hmm” look and rubbed his chin and lips before he looked at me again. “Doesn’t it hurt? I mean….” He looked down at his own crotch and then smiled up at me. “If a guy’s got a big dick…I’ve had women complain about mine and I’m guessing a pussy was made to take it more than an ass can I figure.”
I was suddenly even more intrigued by him, and the mention of the size of his cock if women were complaining. “Well, sometimes. I mean if the guy is huge it can take some getting used to.” I saw him look at me again, still rubbing his chin as he listened. “But once you get used to it, it feels amazing. And I’ve always loved a guy with a huge dick. Let’s just say I spend a lot of time taking care of him.” I gave a wide smile and raised my eyebrows at him.
He didn’t say anything, just kept looking at me as if he was contemplating more. But before he could speak, I noticed his glass was empty and got up to get him some more. As I rounded the doorway into the kitchen I turned to see him staring at my ass as I walked away and I grinned to myself. I think he was actually thinking about how my ass could take a dick, or exactly what I meant by taking care of a huge dick.
I brought him more, setting the bottle down on the coffee table, noticing he hadn’t changed position at all. He said thank you for the wine and took a long swig before he put the glass down again, and sat backwards on the couch, his hands behind his head again. He stared at me for a while, before his smile lit up his face again and I saw those straight teeth of his.
“So you think I’m a fuckin’ stud huh?” His voice was low, and his eyes looked down, not meeting mine.
I grunted out a small laugh and picked up my glass, staring right back at him. “Not going to lie, but yeah. I do.”
He let his head bob a bit as if flattered before he finally looked directly at me. “So…I’m your type?”
I laughed again, setting my glass back down. “Why? Are you flirting with me Mario?” I teased.
He didn’t say anything, just held my gaze for a moment, before he put his hands down on the couch beside him and pushed his body up to a more comfortable position, shifting his feet in front of him now as if he was going to stand up to leave. But he sat there, resting his elbow on his knees, leaning forward, his big hands together hanging in front of him, and he turned his head sideways to look at me beside him.
“What if I was?” He said quietly to me with a sort of a grin, his eyes staring at me, as if he was a little kid asking for a favour.
I shifted forward too and matched his seated position, moving to the edge of the couch and sitting beside him with my own hands clasped together as my arms rested on my legs. “I thought you were straight Mario.”
He looked down at his feet and spoke softly. “I am. At least, I think I am. But let’s just say I’ve always been intrigued by other guys. And I need SOMETHING, you know. Someone to let loose with. A ‘friends with benefits’ sort of thing.” He looked at me sideways again. “And since you’re into guys, I guess I was wondering if you’d want to…I don’t know, take care of me?”
There was a moment of silence between us as I considered what he was saying, but before I could respond, he kept going.
“I figured maybe you weren’t looking for a relationship either, and we could, I don’t know, have a little fun together…without it meaning anything.” His eyes went down to my feet before they flicked back up to my face. “If you want to that is.”
I let out a breath and held his gaze before his head looked down again, seemingly embarrassed by his request. “Well buddy,” I started to say before I paused, and stared at his slouched body, “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about you like that.”
His head lifted and he smiled, somewhat relieved at my words. He held up his hand though and leaned back. “Look, I’m not saying I’d be able to, you know, reciprocate or anything, but if you want to…I’d really enjoy a….” He sort of snuffed through his nose, and I could see his face going red. He let out a long sigh and shrugged, letting his hands clasp together in a loud clap before he turned to me directly and said, “A blow job and stuff, to get me off and help me out.” He leaned back and slapped both hands loudly on his massive thighs and sat back, letting another loud sight out. “So….” I heard him clear his throat. “I think you’re a pretty sweet guy, and you’re cute and all, so maybe I was wondering what it would feel like to have you, uh….” He stopped, looking down between his legs. My eyes went there too, and I could see the bulge. I reached out and put my hand on his leg, moving inside his thigh and heard him breathe in deeply. He didn’t jerk away, didn’t push my hand back, so I kept going, up to that bulge and felt him through his jeans, now rubbing the semi hardon he obviously had.
We stopped talking. I heard him breathing hard through his nose, and his eyes fell to watch my hand on his bulge, making the semi bigger. He didn’t move, as if he was afraid to move.
“Only if you want to.” He whispered quietly. His head turned to look at me and our eyes met briefly before I looked back down to his lower half.
I slid my hand over his hardening cock, tracing the outline of it as it snaked sideways under his jeans. He shifted his legs, as if it was making him uncomfortable as he became harder. My other hand went to his big right leg, feeling the muscles underneath flexing, before I moved upward to the top of his jeans, flicking his tee shirt up so I could see what I was doing. I saw the line of his hips and the smoothness of his lower stomach and felt his cock flexing under my grip. He was already fully hard now, and he wasn’t lying about having a big cock from the feel of him. He was just as excited as I was. “Feels like you want me to.” I said to him, feeling the outline of his big cock through his jeans.
He breathed in heavily and then leaned back and began to quickly unbutton his jeans. “I want you to.” He panted out, moving his big fingers around mine and opening up his jeans for me as my hand grabbed and felt his rod over his jeans once again.
I moved off the couch and knelt between his feet. He pushed his ass up off the couch and slid his jeans down, showing off a pair of tight black boxer briefs containing a very large sausage type shape with an obvious wet spot near the upper left side of them. He shoved his jeans to his knees, and my hands immediately went to his big legs, two solid barely hairy pieces of hard muscled flesh. I knew he had thick legs, and they felt like marble under my touch.
He put his hands on either side of his legs and watched me, looking down with his mouth slightly open. I stared at his big thighs, and the solid mass of meat that was apparent under his dark briefs, until my hands moved as if on their own towards that thick bulge. His top lip was hidden by his thick moustache as he watched me. I saw his eyes close as I gripped his shaft through his underwear, and then heard him exhale as I reached into the material to touch his bare flesh. He shook for a moment, his entire body vibrating as he sat there as I pulled the waistband down over his rod and saw the cut piece of meat he was packing. His eyes opened as he watched me lift the base of his big cock and hold it up.
“Holy fuck.” I mumbled out loud as I held it straight up.
It was meaty, with thick veins along the side, a nice dusting of thin hairs surrounding an otherwise smooth area on him. He didn’t have much body hair, and the small bush of hair on top of the base was sexy. His cock was very thick, a heavy solid mass and bigger than mine. I could see why women complained as I wrapped my hand around him.
“You like my cock?” He whispered, staying completely still. I saw his eyes close as I squeezed it, feeling the thickness of it, my fingers not even making it around the base of his big dick.
I leaned in and stuck my tongue out, starting at the base, and licked my way up, holding the big tool straight up, and let my tongue flick off the tip of his helmet shaped head. “It’s fuckin’ huge buddy.”
I watched him let his head fall backwards on the couch as I repeated the action, licking that shaft again and giving it a little squeeze with my hand. “Holy fuck.” He moaned out, giving me a view of his neck and stubbled chin. “This already feels good.”
I let go of his dick and heard it smack his skin as I pulled his jeans down a bit more, pushing them down over his huge calves. I sat back, taking in the look of his lower body, just as meaty and muscled as the top half, fairly smooth just like the rest of him, his big sausage like cock with a big helmet head resting over his shirt. He had two giant sized balls, round and close to his body, giving the picture-perfect view of a man with a big cock, waiting for a warm mouth.
I let my hands rest on his knees as I took a mental picture of how sexy this straight man looked. And then I began to slide my hands upwards as my mouth moved towards my goal, causing him to shake more and moan out, looking down at me to watch me as I opened my mouth and found the head of his big cock and took it right into my mouth.
“Jesus Christ Brian.” He whispered, reaching a hand to my hair to hold my head on him as I swallowed him all the way down. He sort of leaned up as I engulfed him, moaning loudly as I took it all the way down my throat. “Fuck!” He moaned again, tightening his grip on my hair as I began to suck his cock. He tasted great, smelled amazing, and was living up to every fantasy I had of this straight man. I sucked him like a demon possessed, slurping and stroking his long cock furiously as he watched me open mouthed, amazed at what I was doing. I couldn’t help but taste his balls, licking the sides of his legs and making him jerk suddenly at the feeling. His head kept flopping backwards on the couch as I knelt between him, but every time he looked down at me, I couldn’t help but hold his stare as I sucked his cock.
His cock was perfect. Shaped like a winning prized dick. Tasting like the man I knew he was. Smelling like the rest of him. Being this up close to him, my eyes on every part of his body as I sucked it up and down was sheer heaven after the last four months of hell.
“You have a beautiful cock Mario.” I moaned over it, licking it, teasing him, hearing him moan. “I could worship this cock all night long.” I dove back down, hearing the moan grow louder. His mouth stayed open, hanging wide as he watched me expertly work his cock. I saw his eyes droop a bit and then he let out a loud groan and told me he was getting close. I picked up my efforts, grasping the base of that big cock and working it hard now with my mouth and hand until he reached out to take it from me.
“I’m going to cum!” He yelled suddenly but I didn’t let his cock go. I looked up at him to see the wide-eyed expression on him, his mouth hanging open wider than ever and his face with that look of climaxing hard. “Holy fuck!” He shouted as he gripped the edges of the cushions of my couch and slammed his head back on the couch shoving his hips upwards into my mouth as he blew his load straight down my throat.
It was a thick load, spurting out in my mouth and hitting the back of my throat. And it was a big one, just like his cock. I took it all, riding his cock with my mouth to match his movements, not letting up on his dick, clamping my lips around it and swallowing the salty mixture that flooded my esophagus as my hand gripped the base, squeezing every ounce out as Mario tried to control his shuddering body. I listened to the grunts coming from him, the repeated “holy fucks” over and over as his body subsided, and his hands appeared on either side of his dick, waiting for me to release my mouth. And when I did, he immediately grabbed his own cock and pulled on it, making sure there wasn’t anything left to escape from it as he looked at me with a shocked expression.
“Holy fuck!” He said again, his voice breathless as he regained his composure. “That was fucking amazing! You suck dick better than any woman I’ve ever had!” He chortled out before his head fell back again on the couch and I sat back on my feet, making sure I wasn’t dripping cum from my lips.
He opened his eyes wide and stared up at me as I stood up, my own cock hard, trapped in my pants as I savoured the taste of this man, my hunky straight neighbour. “That good eh?”
“Good?” He blurted out. “That was the best fucking blow job I’ve ever had. Jesus, where’d you learn to suck cock like that?” He was sort of half laughing and half serious, reaching down to pull up his jeans, seemingly embarrassed at having his dick out in front of me all of a sudden.
I shrugged. “I’ve been practicing a lot over the years I guess. Joe had a big cock like yours. And I loved to suck his…among other things I liked to do with him.” I swallowed again, tasting Mario, and realized what a sweet mixture he had. He tasted good I thought to myself as I looked at the hot stud sitting on my couch.
But he didn’t stay sitting too long. He jumped up, adjusting his clothes, pulling up his jeans all the way and doing them up. He suddenly seemed awkward, almost uncomfortable as he looked around the room and stepped away from me, reaching for his glass that was empty.
“Look, I’m not expecting anything in return.” I quickly said, stepping back.
Mario put down his glass and fumbled with his pockets, shoving his hands into them and backing away from me. “Yeah, no, that’s okay. I’m not sure….” Then he stopped and just stood there. “That was amazing. Really.” He opened his eyes wide and gave me a sexy grin. “Seriously. A-MAZING.” Then he let out a puff of air and pulled a hand from his pocket to run through his hair. He pointed to the door. “I should probably go.” He moved to the door and opened it quickly, turning to look at me to say something but clamped his mouth shut instead. “Thanks Brian. I’ll uh…check in with you tomorrow.”
And he went out the door.
Shit I thought. That didn’t go as well as I thought it would. But then again, what was I really expecting?
