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This is a work of fiction. All persons are intended to be age 18 and above.
AIR FORCE WEENIE
By anonymous.a
I recently moved to a new neighborhood and if I've not said it before (which I have), let it be known I love being here.
This neighborhood is quiet. It's peaceful. Everybody knows everybody else – well, obviously that's not true. But more people know each other here than any other place I've lived.
But mostly I love it because it is blessed with an abundance of good-looking fellas, almost all of whom are members of the Air Force.
Because our neighborhood consists of mixed residences, with townhouses and stand-alone homes, we have a mixture of servicemen, everything from cute little freckle-faced airmen fresh out of basic and three to a townhouse, to young officers and their wives living in the houses. My next-door neighbor, for instance, fits the latter category. He and his girlfriend – and I know she's a "girlfriend" and not a "wife" because she told me while I struggled to get her damn lawnmower started while he was deployed – are fairly nice though a little suspicious of an older guy like me living next door. "Older" is relative, as I'm in my late 30s opposed to their mid-20s. Still, I don't think I'll be invited to any of their late-night backyard bashes, the kind that result in multiple sleepovers into the next day because everybody was too drunk to drive home the night before.
The guy's name is Kevin and he's a big ol' strapping Texas boy, with short blonde hair atop a surprisingly feminine face. His features are delicate, if that's a way to describe a narrow nose and wide, thin lips. You can see his cheekbones nicely. The rest of his body is pure football player – solid muscle on a well-proportioned frame. I'd say he's about 6-feet 1 and 180 pounds. In other words, he fills out a pair of Levis the way they were meant to be filled.
Kevin enjoys woodworking and the garage serves as his shop. Often, to escape the stifling heat, he'll relocate to the driveway, which is where I see him. We usually wave and exchange hellos, and that's the way it's been these past few weeks. Until the other day. ...
I had just pulled into my driveway after a long, miserable day at work, when Kevin walked out of the garage and made eye contact with me. I got out of the car and his gaze never faltered; this would be more than a simple hello, I thought.
"Hey neighbor, sorry to bother you," he began, "but I'm trying to replace a switch on our freezer and the lid won't stay up. Could you hold it up for me while I get the damn thing replaced?"
Could I? Heck yeah I could. Anything to get closer to this dream of male flesh. We shook hands and I introduced myself. He told me his name and motioned for me to follow him into the garage, where the freezer was located. It was one of those chest-style appliances and sure enough, he had removed the arm that holds the lid upright when you open it, so he could get at the light switch. Nobody likes rummaging around in a freezer without a light.
As I held the lid up he got to work. Amid the occasional curse over a dropped wrench or screwdriver, he told me his story. He was 24 and newly promoted to first lieutenant in the Air Force, where he was an avionics engineer. "Not a technician," he pointed out. "An engineer. Which will serve me well when I transition into the private sector." He was from a little town outside of Abilene, Texas, and joined the military to escape that godforsaken cow town. So far he had been stationed at bases in California and Japan, then here. He met his girlfriend in California and after a year of TDY in Japan, he had returned to the States and she followed him here.
"But I don't think we're going to stay together," he said, which caught me off guard. People typically don't divulge that kind of information to somebody they just met. I was intrigued (for obvious reasons) and prompted him with a question: "Why not?" I tried to make it sound casual.
"Mmm. I hope you won't think I'm some kind of freak when I say this," he said, grunting as he yanked on the switch assembly. A stubborn bolt held it firmly in place. "But I just love sex. You know? Just plain ol' sex. I don't think a body can have too much sex in this life – hell, it's one of the few things about being an independent adult that gives you pleasure, you know?" He got the assembly loose. "I mean, you work your ass off to earn a living and pay your bills, you keep your place up, you try to give back a little something to the community – I'm thinking of running for Town Council – and after sleep, work, and everything else, your day is almost totally consumed with keeping your head above water. But an hour's worth of sex makes it all worthwhile."
I chuckled. "You got no argument from me," I said.
"Problem is, SHE doesn't like sex," he said, fishing the new switch assembly from a small cardboard box. "At least not as much as I do. And there's a lot she won't do."
My interest level spiked. If nothing else, I might get to hear this gorgeous lug talk about some of the things he likes to do in the sack. I asked him what those things were, and as he described them, my imagination began to feed.
"For starters, she'll only do it in a couple of positions, most often missionary," he complained. "She won't try anything new, and when I try to get her to try something new she starts complaining about the size of my dick. She says it makes her pussy feel like a warehouse."
Oh. My. God. I nearly dropped the lid. I couldn't see his crotch from this vantage point, and thus guesstimate the size of that "warehouse"-sized schlong, but I did sneak a peek at his ass. His shirt had ridden up above his jeans, exposing a swath of his back, just above those meaty glutes. The suggestive swirl of hair I saw there meant he had a hairy butt crack, just the way I like 'em.
"She won't let me fuck her between the boobs. She's so afraid I'm going to sperm her face."
I was simultaneously sympathetic and jealous – sympathetic on his behalf, and jealous of the girlfriend. I would kill to have him sperm MY face!
"She would never, not in a thousand years, lick my asshole." He wrinkled his nose and in a fussy imitation of her minced, "Gross! It's dirty."
My cock had already grown into an iron poker. I was sure it was leaking joy juice. I looked down to see if there was a wet spot on my slacks – not yet, thank God. But I didn't know how much longer I'd be able to endure this stimulation without something unexpected happening.
"Jesus. She won't even give me a blowjob. She has this thing about getting cum in her mouth. She says she'd puke if that happened."
I wasn't thinking. My brain had gone on autopilot. I was so worked up that rational thought no longer existed between the walls of my skull. I just blurted, "She doesn't know what she's missing!"
Kevin stopped doing what he was doing and looked sideways at me, his expression part surprise and part ... was that curiosity? Instantly I recognized my slip-up and felt blood rushing to my cheeks. There was no telling how these straight boys would react to discovering somebody close to them was gay. Some were totally cool with it. Others reacted violently. How would Kevin react? It didn't matter. I was busted. Totally busted. There was no getting out of it.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to spring that on you," I began. "Yup. I like guys. And I've got to say, your girlfriend needs to broaden her horizons." I paused a moment, then continued, almost mischievously, "Or maybe you."
And I gave him a wink.
He smiled ruefully and said, "I'm about as straight as they get. I'm not sure I could get it up for a guy. I'm not even sure I'd want to."
I gave him another devilish look. "You never know until you try."
He seemed to think it over for a long minute. And then, almost impulsively, before he could change his mind, he slapped a hand against the garage-door button on the wall next to the freezer, and as the metal door rattled down the track, he began to unbutton his jeans.
"I am going to hate myself in the morning," he said in a low voice, "but I have just GOT to get a blowjob. If I don't I'm gonna blow a gasket, sure as the world."
I dropped to my knees in front of him. Beneath the jeans he was wearing a pair of plaid boxers. Instead of taking them off he undid the fly and fished out his dick, which had already grown half-hard.
Warehouse indeed. I've seen some gi-normous cocks in my day, but this one would rank in the top 10. It was pale with a dark ring just south of the mushroom cap, with almost no veins to speak of. I'm guessing the length was 8 inches, and the girth was impressive. I've never given much thought to how wide a dick is, unless it's going up my ass. But this sucker was a monster. I'd have to unhinge my jaw, like a snake, to fit it all in.
"If you hear a car pull into the driveway you better say something," he muttered, flopping that now almost completely hard monster in my face. "She gets off work in half an hour, but sometimes she comes home early."
Fuck that. No way was I going to be interrupted servicing this beauty. I opened my mouth real wide and slid down on Kevin's cock.
He let out a moan as his dick entered my mouth and found the back of my throat. I relaxed my throat muscles and took it all the way in, until my nose was buried in the few pubes protruding from his boxer fly. I used my throat muscles to massage his member and he groaned again, and said in a husky whisper, "God, I've missed this." His hands found the back of my head as he withdrew his cock and then rammed it back into my mouth.
His scent was dizzying, a manly smell interlaced with a bit of sweat and piss. But the overall olfactory ingredient was musky sex, what the cock gives off just prior to doing its business. So powerful was that odor I could even taste it as I sucked on his dick and swallowed the spit that gathered in my mouth.
Kevin began ramming his dick into my gullet and gave out little "Uh, uh, uh"s as his hips bucked forward. My hands found his ass and squeezed. I could feel the muscles flexing and unflexing as he pistoned his fuckstick in and out of my mouth hole.
"I'm getting there," he whispered urgently. "What do you want me to do?"
I pulled off his cock for a hairsbreadth and hissed back, "Just fuck my face, lieutenant."
He growled and crammed his cock back into my mouth and began a furious pounding that left me dazed and, yes, I'll say it – confused. But it was a beautiful confusion – the scalding heat of his crotch, that musky buildup of sex scent, and the physical sensation of his fleshy tube making its way down my throat.
His grunts began climbing the octaves and the muscles in his butt tensed and then, BOOM, a gigantic explosion of cum filled my mouth. He gripped my head like a vise and would not let me pull off as he continued to pump delicious Air Force sperm into me. I managed to swallow some of it, but some leaked out of the corners of my mouth and ran down to my chin. He kept thrusting into me as the cum continued to spurt from that giant, twitching penis of his.
Finally his urgency began to wane and I could feel his cock starting to relax. I used this as an opportunity to swallow what cum remained in my mouth, then clean up his dick, teasing a final dollop of joy juice from the piss hole. I wiped up the cum leaking down my chin and slurped it up. His sperm had a tangy, almost sweet taste.
He was in no hurry to put his dick away and continued to slather it with suckings and tongue rubs and kisses. He took it out of my mouth and guided it across my face, rubbing it against my cheeks and chin and forehead. Finally, he let out a grateful sigh and pulled it back into his boxers.
I got up off my knees. Now, I did have a wet spot on my slacks.
"That was fucking awesome," he said. "I can't tell you how much I enjoyed that. I haven't had a blowjob in months, and you do a good job of sucking a guy's dick."
I blushed at the compliment. "I've had a lot of practice."
He hit the garage door button and the door rattled back up the tracks, letting in a gust of cooler air. I had no idea how much we'd heated up the place with our exertions.
"If you don't mind I'm gonna need you to do that again in a few days," he said, raising the lid to the freezer and resuming his work on the switch. I told him I didn't mind at all, that in fact, if he wanted me to do some of those other things his girlfriend wouldn't do, I could oblige.
He looked up at me, his eyes wide and a big smile creasing his face. "That would be fucking awesome," he declared, his voice almost boyish. "I'm not gay but like I said, I love sex. If she isn't interested then I'll just get it somewhere else."
And at that moment a black Toyota Camry pulled into the driveway.
Kevin, now bent over the side of the freezer, looked up at me and winked. "Nice to meet you, neighbor."
"Nice to meet you too," I smiled back.
Man, do I love this neighborhood.
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