I didn't pay much attention when the U-Haul truck parked in front of the house next door. The house--a white ranch-style a bit worse for wear--was a rental. It seemed people were always moving in or out, and I'd never really gotten to know any of them.
My wife Vanessa and I had moved into the quiet Seattle suburb six years ago. In San Diego, where she had been a cruise director for Holland America, I had worked for a small advertising firm. It wasn't particularly exciting work, but I liked it well enough. Mostly I liked living so close to the beach. When Vanessa took a new position with a cruise line based in Washington state, I was less than thrilled. But, ever the supportive husband, I quit my job, gave up my life of surf and sun, and moved with her to the Pacific Northwest.
It wasn't so bad, actually. I decided to give up the cubicle walls for the comfort of home, starting a blog and writing product reviews for a living. Vanessa was at sea for weeks at a time, so with the house to myself, I was free to roam around naked. I also masturbated like crazy. Even though I was now thirty-six, I had the sex drive of a teenager. Sometimes, I would bring home another woman to fuck--or occasionally a guy--but Vanessa knew nothing of it. I figured what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.
It was a misty Monday morning when the moving van showed up. Vanessa had a rare week off, and while I was hoping for a seven-day sex romp, that hardly turned out to be the case. I spent most of the day writing, and she mostly watched daytime talk shows and gabbed on the phone with her mother. It wasn't exactly the fuckfest I'd had in mind.
The clouds burned off just in time for sunset, and I wandered onto the patio by the pool. Vanessa was inside making dinner, and a quiet had settled over our little neighborhood. That's when I heard voices close by. Casually turning my head, I was suddenly transfixed. There were three young guys standing in the backyard of the house next door. They were talking, laughing, and drinking--and one of them was completely naked.
He was short and lean, but muscular. Messy blond hair, tan all over, with a light dusting of hair on his chest, ass, and legs. A tuft of blond pubic hair sat above a very handsome uncut cock with a sizeable head. His large balls hung low despite the chill, and looked like they were probably shaved. The guy's cock bounced hypnotically every time he laughed. He had a handsome face, too, though in that moment, I was looking much more at his masculine body.
I loved how casually the other two guys seemed to regard his nudity. They were just hanging out, drinking, and having a good time. No one seemed bothered by the fact that he was naked. I certainly wasn't.
After a couple minutes of gawking, I went back inside.
"Honey!" I called. "You've got to see this!"
"Not now," she said. "I still have to start on the salad."
"Forget the salad. Come take a look."
Sighing loudly, she wiped her hands briskly on a paper towel and came stomping over.
"All right, Jeff. What did you want me to see?"
I pointed out the window at the naked young man, who was clearly visible from the kitchen.
"Oh...wow," she said. "That guy...he's stark naked!"
"Yes, I noticed that too," I said, laughing.
"He has a nice body."
"Yeah, I suppose."
"And a cute ass."
"Hey, now wait a minute!" I said in mock anger.
"I'm only teasing," she replied, kissing me on the cheek.
"You'd better be. I don't want to lose you to some young nudist."
"I think I'll stick with my old nudist," she said, running her hands down my stomach. She grabbed the waistband of my gym shorts--the only thing I'd been wearing--and pulled them down to my ankles.
"Old?" I asked. "In what world is thirty-six old?"
She winked at me before running her lips over my half-hard cock and swallowing it whole.
Dinner was quickly forgotten.
Every day that week, I kept stealing glances at the house next door, looking for the naked dude. That next day, I only saw the other two guys lounging in the yard. One wore a tight-fitting T-shirt and cargo shorts; the other was shirtless in a pair of faded jeans. Both were barefoot. Like the messy-haired naked dude, they were both handsome men, albeit taller. The young man in the shorts was broad-shouldered, muscular, and had a neat beard and a mop of shaggy brown hair. The shirtless guy had short red hair, fair skin, and small, pink nipples on a well-defined, hairless chest. I watched them hoping they would get naked too, but no such luck.
On Wednesday, I saw the third young man in the yard again, and just as before, he was naked. He was tossing a frisbee with the redhead, and I watched his beautiful uncut cock bounce and swing as he jumped and ran. A couple of times, he turned in my direction, but I don't think he saw me. My cock strained against the nylon of my shorts, but I dared not jerk off watching him. Not while Vanessa was in the house, anyway.
I continued to watch the house next door with fascination that week, and every time I saw the blond guy, he was naked as a jaybird. I grew hornier every day, and I fucked Vanessa as much as she'd let me, each time picturing the naked dude's bouncing cock.
On Saturday morning, I drove Vanessa to the seaport. She had to work a 12-night cruise to Alaska, and I was ecstatic to have the freedom. I'd felt that rush of excitement before. Usually it was because I was eager to fuck some bar slut, or get a blowjob from some guy on Grindr. But this time, I wanted to go meet the guys next door, especially the naked dude. I wasn't sure what I was going to say, but I had an idea. I thought about inviting the guys to use my pool while Vanessa was out of town. That way, maybe they'd all come over and get naked. Who knows?
As I drove past the guys' house, I saw two cars in the driveway: a black Nissan Xterra and an old gold Acura Legend. There was also a bright green street bike parked crookedly by the door. I figured all three of them must be at home. I pulled into my garage and thought about making my move. I had on a ratty T-shirt, running shorts and was barefoot--I always drove barefoot--and figured that would be fine to wear next door. The guys obviously didn't keep a very strict dress code anyway. I grabbed a six-pack out of the fridge, ran a brush through my hair, and walked over. I was doing this.
I heard voices inside as I knocked on the door, followed by someone shouting, "Fine, I'll get it!" The latch turned, the door opened, and there stood the guy with the neat, brown beard.
"Hey man," he said.
For the first time, I saw him without a shirt. Right away, I could tell he worked out. He had nice pectorals, ripped arms, and his chest and stomach were covered in tidy, light brown hair. He only wore a pair of white boxer shorts, and the fly opened just enough for me to catch a glimpse of a pink cockhead.
"Hi, I just wanted to stop by and introduce myself. I'm Jeff. I live next door," I said, pointing in the direction of my house.
He scratched his beard and smiled.
"Oh cool," he said. "I'm Dustin." He reached out and gave me a powerful handshake.
I held up the six-pack of beer.
"It's not much of a housewarming gift, but I brought you guys something."
"Thanks, man! Redhook... good stuff! Come on in. It's Jeff, right?"
The house was a true bachelor pad. A few mismatched pieces of furniture, clothes and beer bottles haphazardly strewn about, and the lingering smell of pot smoke permeated the living room.
The redhead was sitting on the couch drinking Gatorade, his legs crossed on the coffee table. He wore only a pair of green board shorts, and I tried to look at his muscular body without seeming obvious. He had a swimmer's build and his chest was as smooth as it had looked from across the yard. I wondered whether he actually swam. He'd want to use my pool for sure.
"Hey Mike, come here," said Dustin. The redhead jumped to his feet and came over to where I stood.
"This is Jeff," said Dustin. "He lives next to us."
"Hey Jeff. I'm Mike," said the redhead, smiling broadly. "Cool to meet you. Those beers for us?"
"If you want them," I said.
"Thanks! That's really decent of you, man. Why don't we crack these open?"
I looked at my watch.
"It's barely noon," I said.
"Well shit, I don't have class tomorrow," said Mike.
"Me neither," said Dustin.
So we opened three beers and sat back on the couch. It was an old couch, covered in rips and stains--a few of which looked suspiciously like cum.
"So you guys are students?" I asked.
"Yeah, we go to Bremerton," said Dustin, pulling his knee up to his chest. His left nut fell out the leg of his boxers. It was shaved smooth.
"Are you seniors?"
"Juniors. We're all juniors. The two of us are in mechanical engineering. Nick's going for...what is it, sociology?"
"Sociology," said Mike.
"Yeah, I had to think about it," said Dustin. "I don't think he goes to class half the time."
"Nick is your other roommate?" I asked, perking up.
"Yeah, he's around here somewhere," said Dustin. "Probably asleep."
"I think I've seen him from my place. He doesn't like to wear clothes, does he?"
The two of them laughed.
"Yeah, we call him Naked Nick," said Mike. "Clothes aren't his thing. Shit, I have to remind him to put on pants before he goes to class. Hope he doesn't bother you."
"Nope," I said. "I totally get it. I'm usually naked at home myself."
"Oh, cool."
"He should be up by now," said Dustin. "Hold on a sec."
He put down his beer and tilted his head back.
"Hey, Nick!" he called. "You awake?"
"Yeah," came a voice from down the hall.
"Get your naked ass in here!"
"Fuck off, man! I'm beating off."
"We've got company!"
Eventually, a door opened in another room, and I heard footsteps padding across the floor.
"Nick's always fuckin' beating off," said Dustin, chuckling.
I was about to reply when Nick walked into the room. True to form, he was naked. Not only that, but he was erect. His hard cock stood straight up, visibly pulsing. His foreskin was fully retracted, a long string of precum dangling from the angry purple tip. I felt a little guilty for interrupting his stroke session, but loved seeing him hard and throbbing.
"Nick, this is Jeff. He lives next door."
"Oh, right on. I'm Nick. Or you can call me Naked Nick, if you want. Shit, everyone else does."
He stuck out his hand, which I shook firmly. His fingers were sticky with precum.
"Hi Nick," I said. "I didn't mean to interrupt you while you were jerking off. You can finish, if you want."
"Nah, it's cool," he said. "I'll just rub it out later."
"Are you sure? You look like you were close."
"Hey, don't joke," Mike piped up. "He'll do it."
Nick grinned.
"Yeah, I was about ready to pop," he said. "OK, just give me a minute. I'll get rid of this thing so it's not in the way. Is that cool?"
"Yeah," I said. "It's cool by me."
I thought he was going to go back to his room, but instead, he started stroking right where he stood. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, letting out a small moan. He began fucking his hand vigorously, his shaved scrotum pulling tightly against his heavy balls.
"Jesus, Nick," said Dustin. "Don't cum on the floor. I'm tired of stepping in your jizz."
"Here," said Mike, grabbing a newspaper off the coffee table. He dropped it in front of Nick, who by this point was stroking his cock like a madman.
"See if you can shoot most of it on that," said Mike.
No sooner had he said this, than Nick let out a loud grunt and began to cum. I watched as six, seven, eight thick shots landed with a splatter on the newspaper and the tiled floor beyond. A couple of wet drops landed on my foot. Nick sighed and smiled, looking quite pleased with himself.
My head was spinning, my heart was racing, and my erection was leaking; thankfully, I had it tucked into the waistband of my shorts. I couldn't believe what had just happened. Still, I tried to play it cool.
"I knew you'd cum on the fuckin' floor," said Dustin. "Nick, you're cleaning that up."
"Yeah, yeah," said Nick, grabbing a roll of paper towels from the kitchen. He ripped off a sheet and hastily wiped up the floor around the newspaper, which was now splattered with dark, wet spots.
"See? All clean," he said, tossing the balled-up paper towel into a trash can.
"Feel better?" I asked, trying to hide the excitement in my voice.
"Yeah," he said. "Thanks, man. I needed that."
"You need that every five minutes," said Mike.
"Still needed it," said Nick, dropping down on the couch.
I offered Nick a beer, and he took a large swig, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He was an attractive guy. He had pale blue eyes and blond stubble so light I hadn't seen it at first. I liked the chin scruff. It suited him.
"So Nick, what do you do?" I asked, sitting in a sagging armchair. "Apart from jerking off, I mean."
"You mean for school, or what?"
"Anything. What kind of stuff do you like?"
He rested his dirty bare feet on the coffee table, running a hand through his hair.
"I run. I hike. I wrench on my car. I smoke herb. I fuck bitches," he said, laughing. "I dunno. What do you like to do, man?"
"All of those things," I said. "Except I haven't smoked weed since college."
"Oh yeah?" he asked. "When was that?"
"Let me see," I said. "Fourteen years ago, I guess?"
Dustin, who had been digging into a half-empty bag of popcorn, suddenly lifted his head.
"Fuck, man," he said. "How old are you?"
"Thirty-six."
"No shit? You don't look thirty-six."
"Thanks, I guess."
A lot of people told me I looked younger than I was. My hair had just started to go gray around the temples, but most of it was still dark. I kept in good shape, though I couldn't compete with the bodies on these three guys. And of course, my cock was usually as hard as a teenager's.
"You guys like to swim?" I asked.
"Fuck yeah!" said Mike. Yep, he was a swimmer, just as I suspected. The other two nodded.
"Well, my wife's out of town for two weeks, and I've got our pool all to myself. If any of you want to come over and use it, feel free anytime."
"Sweet!" said Dustin. "Yeah, we'll take you up on that."
"How long you and your wife been married?" asked Nick.
"Eight years."
"She have big tits?"
The other two guys snickered.
"Yes, actually she does," I said, laughing.
"Tight pussy?"
"Not as tight as she used to be, but my cock still likes it."
"You could always fuck her up the ass."
"Yeah, I do sometimes. She's got a great ass."
I liked Nick. He had sex on the brain, just like I did. I looked down and sure enough, his cock was already starting to lengthen again.
"So what are you going to do with your wife gone for two weeks?" asked Dustin.
"Oh, I masturbate like it's my job," I said nonchalantly.
"No kidding?" he said. "As much as Nick here?"
"Well, I don't know about that, but I make myself cum five, six times a day. I love it."
"That's awesome, dude."
"Thanks."
The conversation drifted away from sex after that, much to my disappointment. But I had already laid the groundwork for getting closer to these guys. Nick obviously had no shame about getting off in front of me--or in front of anyone, I guessed--and I wondered whether he'd want to play around. I didn't think he was gay, but there was always a chance he was bi like me.
The four of us finished off the six-pack, and I decided to head home to take care of my cock. I repeated my offer to let the guys use the pool, which they promised they'd take me up on.
"You're pretty cool, Jeff," said Nick on my way out. "Drop in anytime."
My cock throbbed at the invitation. I would definitely be back.