Nifty Archive "Neighborhood Slut" {Rob} Authoritarian (MM oral)
Some of you may have been reading my other two stories: "The Fireman's Son" and "Born to Serve." A week or so ago my ancient computer "gave up the ghost" and I'm trying to learn how to use this devilish, unforgiving new one. I'm hoping the computer geeks can save something from my old hard drive, otherwise I may be totally lost with respect to those two stories. TFS is in its 53rd chapter and BTS, which I've just started on is in the 3rd. I hope that I will be able to continue them, but right now my brain/memory is at a total blank. I don't even know how to restart the chapters I was working on.
While I've been sitting around moaning and drinking old Scotch my "dirty mind", as one of my readers called it, started thinking about a new scenario. At the moment, I don't have any idea how it might play out or anything about its future, but I'm going to play with it, and maybe I'll submit it to Nifty.
I'm going to write this story in the first person, BUT THERE IS NO TRUTH TO IT! The entire story and all the characters are figments of my dirty imagination.
The story is copyrighted to me 2019
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Neighborhood Slut Prologue
I'm a seventy-year-old gay man who has kept myself in reasonably good physical shape. I had a successful professional career, which allowed me to retire at a fairly early age. In my mid-twenties, after I finished college and post-graduate studies, I became very active in the bar-one-night-stand milieu in the large city where I grew up and studied. I was up for just about anything. During these years I sometimes played the role of a demanding top to satisfy the desires of some extreme subs. One time, at the request of one of my bottoms, I fisted him.
When I was about 28, I got fucked for the first time. It was not good. One night I was fairly drunk and went with a good-looking, aggressive black man about my same age. I had met him before in connection with my work. I can't accuse him of rape because I went with him willingly knowing what he wanted, but the encounter was definitely "bam, bam, thank you, ma'am" without the "thank you". A few days later I was in the office of a surgeon recommended to me by a close gay friend. After I was healed from the surgery, the good doctor, to whom I am forever grateful, showed me with his very large dick during several post-operative office visits that anal sex could be very pleasurable. After that I was about equal bottom-top.
At age thirty, I moved to Washington, D.C., where I was involved in the Federal Government for a number of years. While there, I had many interesting experiences and learned to love being a bottom, but I never experimented with dominance-subservience.
After a number of years and a couple of changes of administration, I moved back to my home town. In my forties I was pretty active. I began seeking out more aggressive tops and paying muscular, masculine dancing boys to fuck me. At one point, for several months I had a hot sexy Latino stud with a big cock who would show up at my townhouse at one or two in the morning wanting to fuck me for money. I had actually chased him down the alley until I could approach him! The fucking was usually done with me spreading my legs and bending over to touch the floor while he stood behind me and roughly fucked my ass. After a few years of this wildness, I calmed back down.
I retired, and live in the inherited house where I grew up. I have a few close gay friends, some going back to pre-Washington days, but most of the people I know are straight. I'm an "old bachelor" who uses his age and health to shield him from most straight male-female social contacts! My neighborhood is an up-scale area where many of the houses have been torn down and larger ones built. Young families have moved in. I am surrounded by babies and kids, some now teenaged, whose daddies, ages late thirties to early fifties, are, for the most part, very attractive.
Chapter One
The house across the side street from mine sold recently and the new owners are a youngish couple, mid-thirties, with a small child. The man, Roger, is very attractive - handsome face, 5'10 or 11", dark hair, nice build. I talked to one or the other of them briefly several times when they were moving things into their new house before the actual movers arrived. An older man, in his mid-fifties, was with Roger a couple of times. He was introduced to me as Frank, Roger's father. He was an older version of his son, a little taller. Whereas Roger was usually dressed in shorts and polo- or T-shirts that clearly showed off his muscular chest, flat stomach and strong hairy legs, Frank was usually in khaki slacks and sport shirts that still gave a pretty good indication of a well-maintained body underneath. Both father and son showed interesting bulges at their crotches. A couple of times, Roger had on shorts that suggested he was "commando" with a nice elongated bulge dressed to the right.
We have block parties a couple of times a year, and I usually go. I don't have a lot in common with my neighbors, but everybody is friendly. I am usually introduced to new people as the "oldest resident," which gets the conversation going as I explain that I may be the "oldest" but I am definitely the person who has lived on the block the longest, having grown up in the neighborhood. I enjoy getting to talk to and, especially, look at my male neighbors. I have watched them and their children grow over the years – a little thinning of the hair - attractive salt and pepper – a little thickening around the waist, but almost all of them were still attractive active men; soccer players, runners, golfers, tennis players, etc., and there are several little boys who have grown up to be hot high school and college jocks. All in all, it is an interesting group of men to fantasize about.
At the last party, Roger and his wife came up and spoke to me. They introduced themselves, and I said of course I remembered them from when they were moving things in. I asked about Roger's father and we talked a little. Shirley drifted off to talk with the women, but Roger stayed with me. I pointed out to him that there were three different beers available on tap and said I was going to try another one. He didn't have a glass, but said he had already had a couple and was ready for more. We went over to the "bar" and I refilled my glass and he filled a fresh one.
We stood together enjoying our beers and comparing the two we had. He said he had already drunk a glass of the one I was drinking and we talked about its character and flavor. When we finished them off, he suggested we try the third together. I was thrilled to continue talking and drinking with my hunky new neighbor and was beginning to feel the effects of my third glass of beer. I was also enjoying looking, discretely I hoped, at the prominent bulge in his crotch. He wasn't going commando, but there was no missing the size of what was packed in his snug shorts. As we talked and drank, deciding we needed to retry the first one, I noticed his hand going from time to time to his crotch and seeming to be rearranging what was in there. Of course, I looked and hoped he didn't notice.
His wife came over and said she was going to run some errands and would be back home in a couple of hours. She said she might drop in on one of her girlfriends while she was out. She told Roger not to drink too much and left. After gathering their little girl from the group she was playing with, they walked to the car parked in front of their house and drove off.
"She won't be home `til supper time. When she and Alicia get together, it's an all afternoon gab fest," Roger said with a laugh.
We continued to talk and drink. Several men came up to us from time to time and joined in the conversation. I introduced Roger to any he had not already met. He seemed to know most of them. Ahmed, a tall good-looking Muslim I had often thought about while jacking off, imagining the thick, long Arab cock, that of course I had never seen, hanging down from his forest of dark hair that ran up to his navel and on to his furry chest as it hardened and stood out from his lean body, came up with his tall dark-haired sons, one a senior in high school and the other in college. I remembered them as cute boys playing around the neighborhood. Wow! two more Arab studs I could fantasize about standing before me with their father ready to plunder my mouth and ass with their big, dark cocks!
Another one who came over was Martin. He was an avid soccer player who played in a serious league. I often saw him coming in tired and sweaty from a long run – "Gotta keep in shape if I'm gonna keep on playing." He was an attractive blond who was going a little thin on the top, but had plenty of blond fuzz on his broad chest and rippling stomach. He had a great personality and was friends with everybody.
In between breaks in our conversation, I told Roger I had watched their house being built, and that the first owners, a young couple, had added the swimming pool. He said it was a nice pool, but the previous owners had let the back yard go and they were going to be doing some replanting and other things to make it more of a place for entertaining. They were going to enlarge the deck area around the pool and have a covered cooking area built. As we drank another beer, I said that sounded nice, that I would love to see it when they finished.
Roger told me he owned an investment company and needed to do a lot of entertaining of his clients. "Anything to keep them happy," he said with a grin as he groped himself a little longer than he had done before, glancing around to see that no one else noticed. We were standing over to the side and his back was mostly turned toward the rest of the crowd. "You want to come over and I'll show you what we're planning on doing? Like I said, the wife won't be home for hours."
I said, "Sure! I'd love to see it!" What I meant was I'd love to see the cock that he had been continuously groping, and I was pretty sure he intended to show it to me. I guess I hadn't been as discrete as I thought!
We said goodbye to the sort-of host and hostess - the party was centered in their front yard. – and others as we walked to the corner. He said, "The house is a mess. The wife would kill me if she knew I let you see it. Go around to the alley and I'll let you in the gate."
`Mysteriouser and mysteriouser' I thought hopefully as I walked to the alley. Just as I got there and started to turn in John, Roger's neighbor across the alley, came out of his driveway and said hello. John is a tall good-looking man who has been very nice to me in a neighborly way. He has two boys who have been growing up in the five or so years since they moved in. They were just little kids. The older one is now playing, I guess, little league baseball. I've only seen him leaving with his dad in his uniform, the front showing a nice little bulge caused, I assume, by the cup he is wearing in his jockstrap and his round buns emphasized by his tight pants, carrying his backpack with a bat sticking out. (I wonder if he's learned what his "bat" is for? But not for me to find out.) I'm also always hearing basketball noises from behind the eight-foot fence that surrounds their back yard. I said, "Hello" but kept walking. Roger was standing at the open gate when I got there, and we went in.
"Who was that," Roger asked.
"Your neighbor John across the alley. He's a nice guy. I'm sure you'll get to know him."
We walked up toward the house and Roger started pointing out the things they planned to do: pulling out out-of-control shrubbery, breaking up and expanding the deck area where the plantings would be taken out, cutting down two trees on the side of the house where the cooking area would be built. He suddenly stopped explaining the changes. "These shorts are really tight! They're choking my cock and balls!" he said as he began to unbutton the front and pushed them down to fall on the ground revealing white cotton briefs barely containing the big lump of cock and balls the shorts had been holding in. "Whew! That feels good! You don't mind, do you?" he asked as he gave the now freed lump a long grope with his big hands.
I had plopped down in one of the chairs that were on the deck when Roger started opening his shorts. "Uh...No...No problem."
"I didn't think so," he said with a sneering grin. "I'm sure you won't mind if I peel out of this shirt too," as he pulled his polo over his head and dropped it on the deck beside the shorts.
"Fuck!" I exclaimed as I sat gaping at the sight in front of me. My new neighbor standing in only a pair of tiny white bikini briefs riding so low on his hips that I could plainly see the top of his dark pubic bush as it spread out from the treasure trail that ran down the flat surface of his lower belly from the indented navel that was surrounded with a halo of dark hair before it ran up his six-pack abs to fan across his well-defined chest. I just stared at the luscious sight with my mouth hanging open.
"That might be a possibility some other time, but now, you want a feel?" he said as he moved toward me. "Go on! Feel it! You've been drooling for it all afternoon. In fact, you've been wanting' it ever since you saw me and my dad moving things in. We both noticed it! He said to me, `Son, I think you've got a hungry queer across the street,' and he was right, wasn't he?"
All I could do was nod and reach for the alluring bulge that I could see was getting bigger and bigger as we talked.
"Yeah, Dad can always spot a queer. He taught me how when I was in junior high school. It sure made it easy for me to get my rocks off whenever I needed some relief. No need to mess around trying to get a girl to put out. Just had to pick a hungry queer, schoolmates, older high school studs. They all wanted to swing on my big dick. I had eight inches when I was fourteen. Spot a queer, wag my cock at him and he was chowing down before his knees hit the ground.
During this little bit of Roger's personal story, I was groping his big bulge with both hands. It took them both to get hold of it all! I slid off the chair and fell to my knees. I could feel the hard bone as it tried to expand in the tight confines of the big pouch. He must have had the briefs specially made to fit around his slim hips and the pouch be big enough to hold all his meat. I hooked my fingers under the edge of the waist and pulled down. The briefs fell to the concrete deck and the huge half-hard cock fell into my gaping mouth. I took it like a hungry baby bird taking a fat, juicy worm.
He jerked his hardon from my mouth and pushed me back against the edge of the seat of the chair. "What the fuck! I didn't tell you to suck my cock. I told you to feel my package!"
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." I looked up at him. His face was stern. His upper lip was turned up in a sneer. "I'm sorry..." He continued to glare down at me. He had spread his legs slightly apart. His hard cock was standing straight out from his muscular body and his big balls were swaying in their hairy sack between his hard, muscular thighs. His hands were balled into fists resting on his hips. "I'm really sorry...sir! I didn't mean to presume. I thought..."
"You don't think! You do as you're told and nothing more. Do you understand, queer?"
"Yes sir."
"Good! That's a good queer. When you're alone with me or with me and my dad, you call us sir. Is that clear?" he ordered as his right hand moved to grasp the thick pole that was beginning to leak an ooze of clear liquid from its tip
"Yes sir. Will I be with your dad...sir?"
"Yes. He wants to try out your mouth. If we had known the wife was going out, he would have been here waiting for you."
"Are you going to use my mouth sir?"
"You want me to use your mouth, your dirty old queer?"
"Yes sir."
"What do you want me to do with your mouth, fag?"
"Fuck it, sir. Put your big, hard cock in my dirty queer mouth and fuck it, sir." I didn't know where this language was coming from. It was like something in me was responding to this hot stud's unspoken commands.
"How much of my cock do you want in your dirty mouth?"
"All of it sir. I want you to please fuck all of your hard, thick man's cock in my mouth, down my throat."
"You think you can take all my big cock in your fag mouth, down your dirty queer throat. You think you can deep-throat my big nine inches down your fag throat- pussy?"
"Yes sir. I want it. It's been a long time, but I can take it. I've taken more. I want that big nine-inch cock of yours fucking my pussy, sir."
Roger stepped closer; his big hand still wrapped around his thick member. I could see the huge mushroom-shaped glans was shiny, covered with the cock-slime that was pumping out if the thick-lipped meatus. "Lick it, faggot! Lick that snot-covered head and then take it in your mouth! Wrap your lips around that big knob and make love to it! Show me you really want it!"
I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out as far as I could and lapped around the big glans and down below the ridge at its base, tasting the remnants of sweat, piss and cum(?) and slurping up the delicious pre-cum that filled my mouth. Roger pulled his cock away from my mouth and began wiping the pre-cum-, spit-covered monster over my face, covering my eyes, nose, cheeks, chin, my hair with his cock-slime. I could smell the intoxicating aroma of his masculine musk emanating from his thick bush, his hairy ball-sac and his sweaty crotch. Every time he paused under my nose I inhaled deeply savoring his man-smell. Every time it crossed my lips, I tried to suck it into my mouth, but he wouldn't allow it. Finally, he stopped on my lips. "Open up, queer! Suck it! Wrap your lips around it! Make me know you love my big dick!"
I opened my lips and sucked in the slick knob, locking my lips around the cock-shaft just below the ridge that flared out at the base of the glans. Just the head nearly filled my mouth. With some difficulty, because my mouth was so full, my tongue licked and I slurped the delicious juices that continued to flow into my mouth and sucked them down into my stomach. I was loving the warm, smooth round monster I was making love to when I felt it begin to push further in! Roger was beginning to fuck my mouth-pussy! I felt it move toward the back of my mouth, the entrance to my throat. I felt it pushing in! `Oh my god! It's been a long time! I know I can do it! I've taken a foot-long cock before! Oh shit, am I going to gag? Has my throat tightened up? Fuck! You can do it! You know you can! Just relax your throat! Take it in! Relax! Swallow! Oh shit! Oh fuck! It's going down! I can do it! I can do it! Oh Shit! He's fucking my throat! Oh god! It's so good! It's been so long! A big, hard cock fucking and out of my throat-pussy! I can still take it! Fuck yeah, pound that mouth pussy, stud! Fuck me with that big eight-incher! I wonder how big his father is?'
As Roger fucked his monster cock in and out of my pussy throat, he kept up a running commentary of his demands. "Good boy! That's a good faggot! Oh yeah! Swallow it, queer! Oh shit! Feeeels sooo gooood! Good cocksucking faggot! Take it down! Take it all the way and work it! That's the way, faggot! Oh yeah, fucking your pussy good! My dad's gonna love this pussy, faggot! I'm cumming, queer! Drink it all down! Drink down that big load into your faggot belly, you fucking queer!" he yelled as he flooded my throat and mouth with a huge load of hot, sweet, nutty cum tasting slightly of the beer we had drunk.
His balls emptied, he pulled his softening cock out of my mouth and slapped it from side to side across my face emptying the last dregs of his ball juice. Satisfied his tube was empty, he rammed the soft mass back into my mouth. "Clean that cock, fag! You always clean a man's cock after it's fucked you!"
Satisfied with my cleaning, Roger stepped back and ran his hands over his cock and balls. He held out the still very large piece of manmeat pointing at me. "You love this big cock, don't you, queer. You love a real man fucking your mouth with his big cock, filling your sorry mouth and throat with his manhood, his precious seed, forcing himself down inside you and using you."
I was still kneeling in front of him. I nodded and hung my head.
"I didn't hear that! I can't hear a nod!" he said in a commanding, angry voice. "Say it!"
"Yes sir. I love your big cock. I love it fucking my mouth. I love having your manhood in me, shooting your juices into my mouth, down into my stomach. I love cleaning your cock with my mouth when you're finished with me, sir."
"And what about my other juices, faggot. You want my other juices in your stomach, on your face, down your throat," he demanded as he fondled his cock in front of me. I watched as the limp sausage took on some firmness as a result of his handling. The mushroom like head was filling out and the lips of the meatus seemed to be opening into a pouty mouth.
"I don't understand, sir."
"Dumbass! You want my piss? My bladder's full of all that beer I drank. You ready to drink my piss? You want me to piss all over you, soak you with my stinking piss, you fucking sorry-assed queer?"
"Whatever you want to do, sir."
Immediately, the piss-slit opened and began spurting a heavy stream of hot, yellow piss at my face. It hit right in the middle and then moved around to drench my face and hair as he moved the fast-hardening cock around with the big hand that was holding and aiming it. "Open your mouth, fag. Get a mouthful of my piss. Taste this man's piss and drink it down!" I obeyed his command, and my mouth filled with the hot, acrid tasting fluid. It wasn't too strong, being the product of a mixture of the three different beers he had consumed. I swallowed as fast as I could, but still a quantity spilled out and ran down my chin onto my clothing. "That's a good fag! Drink that man-piss! You like my piss, don't you, faggot?" I nodded my head as he began spraying the seemingly endless stream all over my clothes, back to my face, on the top of my head so my hair was soaked and the piss was running down to soak any part of me that he had missed.
Moving closer, so that his still spurting cock was right in front of me, he demanded, "Stick out your tongue!" I obeyed, and he rested the big head, still spurting a stream of piss, on it before pushing a couple of inches in. "Good fag. This is what you need, a real man to take charge of you. You love this, don't you. You love a man using you, using your holes. Yeah, we're going to be using both your holes, don't worry. Next time my dad will be here. You're going to love what Dad and I have planned for you, but right now I have another load to shoot. Open up that throat, pussy. I'm going to fuck it harder this time now that I know you can take it."
He grabbed both sides of my head with his powerful hands and rammed his big pole in all the way until my nose was buried in his dark pubes. He proceeded to fuck my throat with rough thrusts of his powerful hips and thighs until he was shooting his second load straight down into my churning stomach. After a long time as he came down from his orgasm, he left the big head just inside the entrance to my throat. I could barely get enough air through the blockage to keep from choking. As he relaxed, he slowly withdrew so that about half his eight inches was resting on my tongue in my mouth.
"Okay, fucker, clean my cock. Get it nice and clean with your tongue and lips so I can put it back in my briefs. Good. That's a good cocksucker, you know how to treat your man," he said as he pulled the big thing out and bent down to retrieve the white bikini briefs. I watched as he arranged his cock and balls in the pouch and picked up the shorts and stepped into them, not sure about what had happened in the past couple of hours, but knowing I wanted more of his big dick – and his father's.
"I bet your wife loves it when you put that big dick in her pussy," I said as, still on my knees, I watched him.
He looked up from fastening his shorts with a scowl on his face. "You don't mention my wife, you fucking queer. You don't even think about her. You understand, fag!" he almost yelled at me.
"Yes, sir. I understand. I'm sorry, sir," I said as I stood up.
"Now get out! I'm finished with you today! I'll let you know when I want you again!" he said firmly. "You better get a big dildo or something to practice with because next time my dad and I are going to give both your holes a workout! Now go!" he ordered pointing at the gate that opened onto the driveway and alley.
I hurriedly left and turned toward the street. All the houses in the neighborhood have eight-foot fences so the alleys are completely enclosed. As I stepped out from between the fences into the street I glanced over my shoulder and saw John standing in his driveway. His big gate was open. His drive opens onto the side street so it is often open and I see him doing things in his garage or with one of his cars.
"Hey," he called out. "Getting to know the new neighbors?"
I turned and stepped onto the sidewalk on his side. I didn't want to get too close. My clothes had dried some, but I was sure I smelled of piss. "Yeah. We got to talking at the block party and Roger wanted to show me the changes they plan to make to the pool area."
"Roger? That's his name?"
"You haven't met him and his wife?"
"No, not yet. I was out here and heard loud voices. You two have an argument?"
"Oh no! He got a little excited talking about the contractor he's dealing with. They're not hitting it off too well. He seems really angry. I suggested he talk to another one. You've had some work done. Do you know anyone? It's a pretty big job. They're going to tear out a lot of bushes, take down those trees next to the house, enlarge the decking and build a covered cooking area."
While I was talking, I unconsciously moved a little closer to John and gave him a look-over. He was a very attractive man, about six feet, dark salt-and-pepper hair cut short, good-looking face. He was wearing sandals, leaving his big feet with long toes visible. He had on mid-thigh shorts and a white t-shirt. There was slight bulge at his crotch, and although the shirt was not tight, it clearly showed the lines of a nice chest and shoulders with a taper down to his slim waist. I had often thought how attractive he was, but now, after my experience with Roger, John's masculinity and sexiness was having a strong effect on me. I could feel my dick chubbing up a little, which was something that did not always happen nowadays.
John had a perplexed look on his face, and I could see him sniffing slightly. "It smells like urine around here," he said in a puzzled voice.
I looked down at the ground and sort of mumbled, "Roger and I drank a lot of beer at the party, and I'm embarrassed to say, my bladder isn't as strong as it used to be, I had an accident and peed on myself."
John looked a little strange and said with a funny smile and raised eyebrows, "You must have had a really full bladder."
"Yeah. I guess I must have. Well, I'll see you. I've got to get in the house and change." As I turned away, I glanced down and I swear, John's bulge had gotten a little bigger. I heard him say half to himself something about getting in touch with his new neighbor. I hurried home and got out of the damp smelly clothes before throwing myself on the bed and jacking off a big load reliving the events of the afternoon.
What had happened to me? It was like Roger had flipped a switch in my head and turned me into a total faggot slut. I had called him sir and obeyed his every command, doing stuff I hadn't done in years. I wanted to do those things with his father. And I couldn't keep my eyes away from John's bulge while we were talking!