Author's Note:
Hey guys! It's been a long time since I posted but I'm back. I wish I could say I had spent my months away working on an extensive and complete series of work for you all but instead I have this story I wrote yesterday. Regardless, I hope you enjoy.
The author does not condone abuse in any of its forms. This is a story of pure fantasy, meant for the enjoyment of adults, and not a reflection of the author's views on real-world issues.
Thanks!
Loving Thy Neighbour: Chapter 1
By Tyler X
"You know, it's normal to grieve the death of an estranged parent - even one you haven't seen since you were a child. Sure, a part of you may feel completely emotionally severed from him, but in many ways, there are intrinsic, genetic ties that bind you to him and he to you. This grief may not appear on the surface, but it could be manifesting in other ways, such as insomnia."
Henry peered at me over his glasses and raised his furry eyebrows, coaxing me. I frowned in mock contemplation. I wasn't convinced. I wasn't just estranged from my father, I actively despised him. He had been an exceptional father when I was young: he was loving, kind, caring, he ticked all the boxes that good father should, and then some. He was also a local minister at our church growing up, so for our community he was a leader and a role-model. And then, one summer when I was thirteen, I went away to a bible camp for a couple days, and by the time I got back my father had vanished. He'd left my mother and I to join some hippy-dippy "free love" movement group that travelled around the country. I hadn't heard from him since.
Anyway, I'd experienced short periods of insomnia since that summer so I knew this current period wasn't related to my father's death last week, but I wasn't going to push it with Henry, regardless.
"You're probably right, Doc," I said, bracing my hands on my lap, preparing myself to leave. "Anyway, I best get-"
"Has it affected your sex life?" Henry asked, with unaggressive bluntness. I tried to conceal the flustered expression beginning to rise across my face. I was so comfortable with Henry by now that I didn't feel the need to play coy about my relationship with David. He had probably heard about the gay couple that had moved in across the street before he met us, but still, throughout our sessions he had maintained a sense of unforced normalcy when discussing my sex and sexuality that I had wondered if he perhaps had a gay brother. And yet, I found myself caught off guard.
"The insomnia, I mean. Has it affected your relationship with David?"
I wanted to lie. I wanted to say that our sex life was as good as it had ever been, that we were fucking once or twice a day. But truthfully, David had barely touched me since we moved into the new place. Granted, it had only been a month, but that was a concerning length of celibacy by our standards, considering we used to fuck like bunnies at every chance we got. I needed the help. I'd shared everything with Henry by now, I had might as well share this. Besides, I was a bad liar and the man could read me like a book.
"Yes. I mean - well, it hasn't been good for a while. Even before the insomnia," I paused to clear my throat, "But I definitely don't think the insomnia thing is helping." Henry nodded gravely. He was quite handsome when he was "in the zone". He was about ten years older than David, twenty years older than me. His dark, wavy hair was streaked with gray. His face was clean shaven, his skin impossibly smooth and tan. His teeth were dazzling white - he should've been a dentist. But instead he was my shrink. And also my neighbour.
"I'm not going to prescribe you anything, just yet," Henry said as he stood up, pulling a thin, golden chain from around his neck over his head. Attached at the end was a tiny bronze key, which I'd never noticed before. He walked over to a cupboard and pulled out a small wooden chest, setting it down and unlocking it. From the chest, he lifted a small bottle. Some sort of perfume, I wondered? He locked the chest and came back over to me.
"But for the time being... Two drops of this oil on your tongue every night before bed. It should help with the sleep troubles, among other things-" (what had he meant by that?) "The taste is quite, uhh, bitter, so if you prefer to stir it into a tea then you can do that, too".
I took the bottle in my hands, turning it in my fingers and examining the syrupy golden liquid inside.
"Is this...? This is... legal, right?" I felt stupid as soon as I asked, and Henry's hearty laugh only reinforced that feeling. I noticed, curiously, the intricately braided texture of the timber walls which lined this tiny, dim-lit office absorbed the booming laughter immediately, not an echo to be heard. The space itself was cozy, but I was never able to shake the slight atmosphere of unwelcomeness. The office was situated at the far corner of Henry's massive house - far removed from the lovely home-y quality of the rest of the rooms.
"It's not a drug, Jack, it's basically just an essential oil - some herbal extracts. I use it myself, and have leant it to some of the other fellas in the neighbourhood. Doug, for example, was having the same troubles as you and said it worked like magic." Doug, being the first friend we had made in this estate, and the one who had introduced me to Henry in the first place, I felt assured by this. I smiled at Henry. I twisted the small glass lid off with a `pop!' And whiffed the oil inside. It didn't smell bitter. In fact, it smelled somewhat pleasant. Earthy, fresh, like moss. I felt a cooling sensation tingling in my nostrils and my skin broke out in goosebumps. A wave of comfort washed over me. Perhaps it was just a placebo affect from the anticipation to try this oil, or perhaps it was just Henry's reassuring and comforting presence, but it was as if the scent alone was taking effect on me.
"Alright, well let me know how it goes," Henry said with a smile and extended his hand. As He folded his warm, large hand around mine, he shot me a wink and I was suddenly gripped by an intense, unhinged and animalistic urge to be bent over his mahogany desk, pinned down by his thick forearms, and power-fucked by him until I couldn't remember by own name. I found myself squeezing his hand a bit too tightly, before being jolted backwards, as if zapped by static electricity, and Henry gave me an amused smirk.
"I- uhhh- yeah, will do!" I sputtered out, backing out of the room hastily, praying that my psychiatrist didn't notice the obscene tent I was now pitching in my pants.
"So, it's poppers." David stated matter-of-factly, later that night as we got ready for bed. I had told him about the oil, and that sniffing it had given me a tingly sensation and an erection, but left out the part about my fantasy of our neighbour raw-dogging me on his desk.
"Apparently not, just some essential oil or something." I replied, carefully examining the unlabelled bottle in my hands as I laid down in bed, waiting for David to finish up shaving in the bathroom. He had been trying to grow out a full beard for a while but had finally become too irritated by the itchiness of it and decided to go without.
I opened the bottle and inhaled again. Tingle. Goosebumps. Warmth.
I corked the opening with my index finger and tipped it to coat the tip of my finger, then flipped it right-side-up. I held my finger up to my face just as a tiny, gooey, droplet began to form. I stuck out my tongue and caught the droplet, then licked the remains from my finger. It was very bitter, but had an underlying taste of that same earthy fragrance that I had sensed earlier.
I curled into a ball and watched my fiancé's back as he stood at the sink in our bathroom. The white overhead light cascaded down his back muscles, which tensed and flexed as he cleaned his razor. I stared at the impossibly soft skin, barely a freckle marking it. He swivelled around and flicked off the light, and in the brief moment before the darkness of the bathroom enveloped his face, I suddenly did not recognise my husband. I gasped and jolted up.
"Woah... what was that?" David's silhouette said, approaching the foot of the bed and squeezing my foot reassuringly. The dim light from outside glowed against his face. It was him. It was David. David with a moustache.
"Oh! Yeah, sorry, I- uhh for a moment I just- I thought you were-" I sputtered. David stared at me with a look of concern.
"You look so different!" I laughed it off. David furrowed his brows and smirked, bemused.
"Can I try some of this snake-oil?" David asked, approaching the bedside table.
"I don't see why not," I replied, still shaky.
I instructed him to do as I did, tipping the oil onto his finger than suckling it off, all the while eyeing me suspiciously. He made a `blegh!' face, then went back into the bathroom and washed out his mouth. This time when he approached the bed, I had kept my eyes shut and was decidedly more relaxed.
"That moustache looks so good on you." I purred, once I had opened my eyes again.
"I'm glad you like," he responded, leaning down for a kiss. His lips met mine with perhaps more force than he intended, but I welcomed them enthusiastically. The kiss lasted a moment longer than our usual pecks, so I slipped my tongue inside his mouth. He melted into me, our tongues now softly colliding. His rubbery face smelt of delicious aftershave, his moustache tickled my top lip. His minty mouth pressed deeper into mine and it was almost as if, despite the taste of toothpaste, he somehow tasted different. Every sensation was amplified, every smell was more intense. My skin felt electric.
His breathing picked up. I could feel his skin becoming hot as our hips began grinding against each other. My erection rubbed against his own, which he took as permission to slip off my boxers. He kissed a trail down my chest and stomach. My face became dewy with sweat. My breath shortened. He took my solid cock in his mouth and swallowed it down to the hilt, before dragging his tongue along the slit of my cock head. My body live-wired. I moaned out loud and tangled my fingers in his dark curls. He suckled on my cock savourily, his lips were velvet against my skin. After generously coating every inch of my meat with his tongue, David began to effortlessly lift my hips higher as he suckled each of my balls into his mouth before diving even lower, nestling between my asscheeks and lapping at my hole. I looked down at his eyes, which were staring up at me and sparkling with lust. Precum pooled against my stomach as David's tongue slid in and out of me. I whispered encouragingly. My body was completely relaxed, yet writhing and alive. David deftly switched between using his tongue and his fingers, my ass vigorously grinding against every new sensation, inviting him deeper. David was growling and groaning - revealing a new side of him which I hadn't seen in the four years we'd been together. He was usually a very quiet and soft lover. But not tonight.
He fisted my cock with one hand as he explored my ass with the other. I bit down on my arm to stop myself from crying out with glee. Suddenly, both sensations stopped and I looked down between my legs to see David kneeling upright, retreated further down the bed for some reason, like he had stepped back to take in the image of me positioned like this, knees cradled to my chest, vulnerable. I still wasn't entirely used to seeing him with a moustache. I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for him to continue. His hand clasped around my ankle - hard, and twisted violently. I cried out in pain but flipped onto my stomach, relenting. His hand clasped against my mouth and nose, squeezing my jaw. My hips were dragged upwards. I felt a wetness between my thighs. Then, without warning, and little preparation, he slammed the entire length of his cock inside of me. If it hadn't been for his hand, I'm sure our neighbours, including Henry, could have heard me scream. I tried to tap out but he was too quick - too strong. He retracted his cock and slammed it in once again - this time jutting against a spot inside of me which I had almost forgotten about, and I felt my eyes water, then roll back into my skull. The assault continued, and I welcomed it, pushing my ass up to meet every thrust, bouncing my waist against the mattress in time with my fiancé's forceful hips. For a moment, he buried himself in me to the hilt and I swore, somehow, that it almost felt as though his cock had engorged inside of me. I screamed out in pain as my ass adjusted to his seemingly expanding size. I could feel the pressure inside of me building with every pulsating throb of his veiny manhood. David had an incredible cock, but it had never been too big for me before. Tonight, however, I felt like I was about to burst at the seams. I screamed into my pillow as his cock bloated inside of me. It was suddenly too much. I needed it to stop. His growls were getting lower and lower like a dog in heat, grating against my ear. His body pressed down against mine, trapping me in place beneath his weight. It may have been my imagination, but it almost felt as though his chest was somehow scratching against my shoulder blades and back with a jungle of furry chest and stomach hair that David didn't have. I realised I hadn't taken a breath in a long time - too long. I tore his fingers from my mouth and nose and inhaled deeply. My senses were still prickling on high-alert but now something was off. A smell - familiar yet so so foreign. It was musky and smoky, like hot timber. I couldn't place it but for some reason it unnerved me deeply. I realised, suddenly, that it was because the smell was coming from David. It wasn't what David usually smelled like: peppermint toothpaste, coffee, clean aftershave. But the smell was emanating from him. I could barely lift my head, which was buried in a pillow, and looked down at the hand that had been suffocating me. The hand was so large - like David's - but it didn't belong to him: the fingers too hairy, the grubby nails lined with dirt.
Something was wrong. Something was totally wrong. I had a stranger buried inside of me.
"D-David?" I whimpered as he began to slowly slide his massive tool out of me. I felt my ass burn as it stretched to accomodate the muscle lodged inside of me. This time, I did scream out loud - a hoarse, breathless cry for mercy. He slammed it back inside of me and I felt my body (despite my mental protests) tremor with euphoric pleasure. I felt possessed. He lifted himself up on his forearms, pulling out of me once again so that I was able to turn my head and peer over my shoulder at him. The light from the window silhouetted his shaggy head. I almost couldn't make out his face. Almost. But then I did. And just as I felt the recognition of the face I was staring into hit me, my entire body seized, and he slammed his cock back home inside of me. I screamed out, not out of pain, but out of sheer, maddening horror. The combination of physical and psychological shock was dizzying, like a flash bang grenade going off in my face. I wasn't aware of what I was shouting until it came out of my mouth:
"D-d-DAD?!"
He didn't miss a beat, his thrusts as powerful and violent as before. My face was shoved back into a pillow. I felt like I was going insane and yet I was never so certain of anything in my life. Somehow, at some point, my father had replaced David, assuming my fiancé's position. The moustache, the smell. There was no mistaking it. And if only to confirm my horror: my father's voice growled deeply in my ear.
"Good boy. Good boy."
All of a sudden, unconsciousness tugged at me, and I began to slip uneasily into sleep, the brutish weight on top of me and the unrelenting invasion of my ass doing little to prevent it. The nightmares started instantly, the rhythmic, violent slapping sound of pelvis-against-ass faded into what I thought might be a heart-beat. The sound sustained while several images materialised into vision, fading into each other as quickly as they came: A line of trees marking the beginning of a forest, illuminated from deep within. A limp, inflatable sex doll, lying naked in the centre of a cul-de-sac. My father facing a stranger, sitting in a boat in the middle of a lake. Henry, naked at his desk. His heavy cock and balls nestled between his thighs. He looks down at me. I wake up.
I woke with a bitter taste in my mouth. I could smell French toast. My head ached. My hole ached. My foggy mind scrambled to recollect my memories from the night before. The sex blended into the nightmares so seamlessly, that trying to remember it was like trying to remember a dream: one moment it's a puddle of water in your hand, and the next it's slipping silkily through the cracks of your fingers. One thing I had remembered for certain though: my father was here.
I stalked silently into the kitchen, when David was preparing breakfast. He switched on the kettle and turned to me. He was glowing: tanned brown skin. Smooth, voluptuous pecs on display, messy crown of dark curls on his head, gray track paints hanging loosely from his defined hips. As he walked toward me his package swayed behind the loose fabric of his pants.
"Morning, babe," he greeted me with a kiss to the head, "how'd you sleep?"
I told him I had weird dreams and that my memory of last night was a fog, but that I was sure I had slept through the whole night.
"Wait, you can't remember last night? Not even... y'know..." So it was David inside of me. What the fuck had Henry given me?
"Oh, I remember that, how could I forget?" I said lowly, embracing my fiancé and kissing him deeply.
"You were so... horny," David said between kisses, "and so loud! You wanted it bad, huh?" I felt myself starting to blush but decided to toy with him.
"So bad... I didn't mean to be so loud, but you were so aggressive, like an animal, it was so hot. Do you think the neighbours heard?" He kissed me again.
"I don't care," he whispered, hoisting me up on to the bench. I could feel his cock stiffening in his pants. He folded my legs to my chest and leaned into me, nestling his bulge between my boxer-clad butt cheeks. My still tender hole twitched and I felt a stickiness where David was grinding his cock. He had bred me last night and I didn't even remember. I wanted to though, desperately. That was the best sex we'd had in years, let alone the past month. As if he read my mind, David whispered between kisses, "You don't remember this?" As he gently pumped his crotch against my ass. My cock ached. Had I cum last night? I doubted it.
"You want to be reminded?" He murmured, suckling at my neck.
"Fuck me.... Fuck me!" I begged. With one hand David reached underneath me, grabbing the waistband of my boxers and ripping them from out under me and simultaneously freeing his own cock, all the while pinning my body up against the kitchen bench, spreading my thighs wider, folding me in on myself. My heart leapt for joy. I ached to have him inside of me again. Or rather, to have the man from last night inside of me again. He pressed himself into me and I let out a shaky, drawn out gasp. My insides, still coated with his cum, yielded to the invasion of his cock. I felt his entire length gradually sink inside of me inch by inch. I stared into his face and he stared into mine. His eyes searched mine for something... perhaps he sensed that I was seeking more than sex? Perhaps he knew I was craving closure from the hazy events of last night, to know that he was the man that I wanted inside of me. He caressed my head and stroked my ass cheek with his other hand. His thrusts inside of me were careful, gentle. This was not the same David from last night. I wondered again, briefly, whether this had something to do with the oil Henry had given us, then my mind wandered to the dream I had of Henry naked at his desk, and finally, to the vision of Henry railing me from behind during our session.
"Harder," I gasped "fuck me harder!" Obligingly, David picked up the pace and began ramming himself harder into me. I waited for that feeling of his cock expanding inside of me just as it had last night, but it didn't come. His eyes searched mine once again, this time with a look of almost frustration. He fucked me harder, still. My toes curled. Dishes and mugs rattled in the cupboard. The kettle whistled loudly. The slapping of our hips reverberated across the tiled kitchen.
"Beg for it, Jack. Scream for it," David growled. He gripped my neck, squeezing but careful not to hurt me. And I did scream. I wanted to be ravished, brutalised. So I screamed, trying to will my fiancé on.
"UGH! Fuck me, baby! FUCK ME!" My shouts echoed throughout the house. David, too, began to growl out. He was getting close.
The kettle clicked off.
A knock at the door.
We froze.
After the second knock, David scrambled to pull up his pants, while releasing me, so I was able down the bench. I was mortified, there was no way our guest hadn't heard me. What were they doing visiting us at this early hour, anyway?
David hurried to the door, checking to see if his cock was visible through his pants. It was. I heard the door swing open.
"Sam!" David called out, his voice unnaturally shrill.
Oh fuck. It couldn't be, there was no way. My breathing stopped for a moment, waiting to hear the voice on the other side. After a brief moment of awkward silence, the voice finally replied.
"Hey, Dad."
Thank you for reading Part 1! If you enjoyed this chapter please let me know, I love hearing your responses and feedback.