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FUCKED BY THE NON-COM
By anonymous.a
When I moved into my new house, I couldn't help but notice I was surrounded by gorgeous guys.
It was an obscene wealth of knockouts, from the tall, slender Air Force officer next door, who jogged in slinky, clingy shorts that revealed every detail of his anatomy, to the scruffy ne'er-do-well around the corner, with his perpetual half-smoked cigarette and mop of bleached blonde hair.
But the fella who first caught my eye was the non-com across the street.
I have a thing for tall guys – tall and skinny. Invariably they have huge cocks, but it's also their body shape that turns me in. I love having a few extra square yards to lick and suck. I love wrapping my arms around their skinny torsos and having them fold themselves over me. It adds a dimension to sex that shorter guys simply can't bring.
The guy across the street is in the military, which means he wears baggy camos a lot. But even those clothes can't hide the fact he's got some altitude but not much latitude.
The guy, whose name I later learned is Bob, comes in at about 6 foot, 2 inches tall, maybe 6-3. But I'll bet he doesn't weigh a pound over 175. He has wonderful, arched cheekbones, a bristly fuzz of dark hair, almost black, and a noticeable 5 o'clock shadow. That would imply his chest and ass are also hairy, and I was right – again, something I later learned.
So it went like this.
It was a hot summer weekend and Bob and his girlfriend had invited over a bunch of their friends to cook out and drink beer. There's a vacant lot next to their place, so they set up the grill and a couple of those screened-in sunshades, as the mosquitoes can be bad this time of year.
I was enjoying a blissful weekend off from work. We had just conquered a crush of deadlines that had required late nights and some Saturday hours, but all of that was behind us. I was looking forward to just goofing off at the house, maybe catching up on my writing and movie watching, and having a few beers.
I guess Bob and his crew had the same idea about the beer, because as afternoon gave way to evening they got noisier and noisier. I could hear the overly loud laughter of women who'd had a few too many margaritas, and there was the unmistakable clank of beer bottles being tossed into a garbage can, so I know they were doing their fair share of alcohol consumption.
Later that night somebody brought out the fireworks. I don't know what it is about summer and fireworks, but the two just seem to go together, especially after you've had a few.
I'm not one of those people who hates fireworks, and even though they're against the law in my state I never call the cops over people shooting off fireworks. But this show they were putting on was getting out of hand. Instead of lighting single firecrackers they were setting off whole strings, which sounded like World War III about to commence.
The firecrackers escalated to bottle rockets. They would shoot up through the trees – or sometimes not make it through the trees – with a loud whistle and a POP! Sometimes they would go awry, and that's what brought Bob to my front door.
Somebody fired off one of those whistling bastards and instead of going up into the sky, it shot laterally, crossing the road, hitting my front door and exploding. I just about jumped out of my chair. I was watching a porn clip – one guy was sucking off another at the Laundromat, and because I had seen this one before I knew a fucking would follow. It had gotten me hard, a fact I could not conceal with my shimmery, thin basketball shorts. My bone was sticking near straight out.
But the bottle rocket fixed that – it scared me so bad I actually lost most of my hard on.
The doorbell rang.
Without thinking I paused the movie and went to the door. It was Bob.
"I'm so sorry," he began. I could smell the beer on his breath. His eyes were heavy lidded and there was a film of sweat covering his body. He hadn't shaved today so his 5 o'clock shadow looked more like the beginning of a real beard. But my eyes fixed on that skinny chest, slats of ribs going into a heavy coating of black hair. Damn, he looked every bit as sexy as I'd imagined.
"Come on in," I told him. "The air conditioner is running. My dad would have yelled at me for air conditioning the neighborhood."
He came in a little unsteadily and almost tripped over the door jamb. The boy was crocked.
"I'm so sorry, man," he said, putting his hand on my shoulder, as much to catch himself from falling as a gesture of regret. "I don't know what happened. That damn bottle rocket went sideways for some reason."
He had a distinct odor coming off him, a mixture of sweat and something else. There's a particular smell a man gives off when his crotch and ass crack are sweating, a kind of pheromone-heavy scent that millions of years ago must have played a role in attracting females. Truth is, it was still working, although there weren't any females in the vicinity. I felt my evening wood starting to come back to daddy.
He glanced at the TV screen and saw the man in mid-suck. "Dude," he laughed. "That's awesome. I love a good blow job."
"Yeah?" I asked, my voice somewhere between joking and dead serious. "C'mon in and I'll give you one."
He looked at me with a goofy expression. "Ah, I dunno," he began. "I never had a blowjob from a guy. It's kinda weird."
I traced the outline of his dick through his shorts with my index finger, much the way I had done with young Danny in my first sexual encounter with that twink-worthy guy. To his credit, Bob didn't bat an eyelash, and I was thanking the fact that guys were much more accepting of man-on-man sex these days. It wasn't always like that, you know.
"Ohhh, shit," he said, and I could hear the resignation in his voice. "My fucking girlfriend's gonna kill me, but goddammit I'm just too horny right now to say no." And with that he skinned down his shorts and exposed his glorious cave-man cock.
The thing was long and skinny, just like him, and sheathed in a glove of pink foreskin. It protruded from a thick, greasy-looking bush of pubes, jet black and glistening in the wan light of my living room. When he dropped his drawers a smell rolled out, pungent to the point of eye-watering, the smell of a man who had been out in the sun all day, with sweat running down his balls and his ass crack and soaking into his boxers. My mouth began watering at the prospect of having this monster rammed down my throat, and I dropped to my knees in anticipation.
"Helluva way to meet the neighbors," Bob chortled, his words slurring.
I stretched my mouth wide and took the monster all the way to the base. It went down my throat, moving past my gag reflux before it could kick in. Sorta like chugging a beer, I guess. I planted my nose in his sweaty pubes and inhaled deeply, breathing in his musk. I felt my own cock hardening in response. I slid my mouth on and off his pole and was rewarded with a hardening that made my job a little easier. This boy was ready to go.
I worked on his dick for several minutes, occasionally dipping to his balls, sucking each one into my mouth and rolling them around with my tongue. Even his ball sac was hairy, and I loved the feel of those bristly pubes against my tongue. Then I would switch back to his cock, running the whole thing down my throat, lapping at the bottom with my tongue and then sticking it into his piss hole, which was fully dilated. He was about ready to spew a big, creamy load into my mouth.
No sooner said than done. He seized my head and forced his cock down my throat, and I could feel the spasms erupting from his crotch as he pumped me full of Air Force sperm. Three good surges of cum and several aftershocks and twitches.
I pulled off his dick and assumed that would be all, but he spun around, bent over and pulled his butt cheeks apart. "Lick my ass," he commanded, and I did not need to be told twice. I shoved my face into that hairy crack, moving it back and forth sideways to get it in as deep as I could, and started licking. My God, the odor was almost overwhelming. His crack was like a furnace – radiating heat and funk, a mixture of perspiration and ass smell and funk. He grabbed the back of my head and forced my face into his butt and ran his asshole repeatedly over my tongue, groaning with each swipe. All I could do was submit – there was no margin for resistance.
Just as suddenly as I was rimming him, he had me on my back on the floor and was ripping off my shorts. He dropped to his knees and forced my legs apart, grabbing each by the underside of the thigh and raising my own sweaty hole in the process. He aimed his cock at my anus and slowly slid it inside me.
It felt like his dick had traveled through my stomach and was coming up my throat to protrude from my mouth. I had never felt so utterly stuffed by a man's penis. It was an amazing sensation that made me want to spread my legs as wide as they could go and open myself to him completely, like I did that little grocery store assistant manager who speared me in his Caddy in the store parking lot.
Bob didn't say anything. He just started thrusting. I could feel his pubes sticking to my ass and ungluing with each pump. I looked up at his face and saw a look of pure bliss as he pounded into me. Sweat had begun to condense on his chin, and a drop landed on my cheek as he uttered little "Uhn, uhn, uhn," sounds in rhythm to his thrusts. I could feel those big balls bouncing against my ass.
He picked up the rhythm and a kind of frantic urgency took over, and suddenly I felt another surge of cum, a very long, urgent spewing of creamy spunk, as if he were pouring his essence into me, fill up my colon. He groaned and went rigid, then relaxed and let out a satisfied sigh as his monster cock remained hard for a minute, then began to soften.
He pulled it out of my ass and stuck it in my face. "Clean me up," he said. "I gotta get back to my friends."
I sucked it clean and even licked the sweat off his balls. And then he got to his feet and pulled up his shorts.
"Well, neighbor, sorry again about the bottle rocket. But I'm glad we met. I'll probably be back over here, you know," he winked, "to borrow a cup of sugar or something."
Or something. I had plenty of that to share with my neighbor.
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