"Over the Backyard Fence"
By Justin Balancier
jbalancier9@yahoo.com
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The following story is fiction. Any resemblance to names, places or events are purely coincidental. The people in this story are fictitious.
I was still a teen ager when my parents bought the little house on Grove Street. When I say "teen ager" I mean a big boy and not a grade school student. I was sixteen, my dad was thirty six and mom around thirty five. You can see by the numbers that a lot of fooling around happened when my parents were teen agers themselves.
My mom was pregnant at eighteen. Our family name is Rossi, which is Italian, and that is cool; however, I am an all American boy. My name is Thomas James, but just plain `Tom' will do.
Abortions were legal and they did consider flushing me down the toilet; but, by the grace of common sense, they didn't.
We lived, for a short time, with my grandparents because my parents lacked responsibility and were short on maturity, common sense, and of course money. I do have to say that for being such a young person, my mom was a great mother, absolutely the best and yes; I was a mama's boy. Dad matured very quickly and before we knew it, we were the Walton Family watching out for one another. One can't say anything more direct than that.
My grandparents passed away and that is when my parents purchased the Grove Street Property. The house on Grove is nothing special, but as a kid, I thought it was "big time" having a double car garage, four bedrooms and a modern kitchen. Years have passed but we still call Grove Street home.
The best part, to my way of thinking, is the outside garden and yard. I love horticulture and would move plants and shrubs around like furniture. I would plant and replant having success every time. I could grow almost anything, included a big ole warm dick between my legs.
The house next to us belongs to Beekman and the family is black. They have a son Clifford. I call him Cliff but his mom still calls him Clifford. Every time we hear the word `racist' from the media; it cuts through us like a knife. Here on Grove Street, that doesn't exist.
Time has passed and Cliff and I are adults. We are brothers from different mothers. Being in our mid-thirties, we are actually boring and getting older with every sunset.
Last weekend, I was working in the back yard garden digging up a peony bush to give to Clifford's mom. Cliff was leaning on the fence watching me as I shoveled, dug and lifted the bush out of the ground.
"Could you bend over again bro, so I can check my brotha out," he said trying to keep a straight face.
"Can you drag your skinny black ass over here and help me with this shrub." I hollered back
"You mean my gorgeous black ass" he said this time laughing. "I can do that."
"Well?"
"Well – what? - Oh, you want help. Yeah, I can do that," he repeated
Instead of opening the gate, Cliff swung his long legs and sprinted over the fence like an athlete. I didn't expect him to do that. He put his arms around my neck from behind and blew into my ear.
"I got you now dough boy," he whispered. Wanna get down and dirty?
"I am already down and already dirty" I replied trying to avoid his grasp.
"Humm, sounds like you've got it all figured out,"
"You're freakin annoying," I said
"I know, but I am good lookin."
"What the hell has that got to do with anything?" I barked at him
"Just sayin bro – just sayin"
"Ewe, not too conceded," I said playfully
"Somebody has to be," he replied "why not me. I'm pretty."
That was funny as hell because Cliff was scrawny, with no muscular build, and no butt worth looking at. However, I thought his comedic stand up personality was terrific, making everybody laugh.
"Grab the other side of the tarp and help me drag this peony bush next door." I said ignoring whatever he was babbling about.
His elderly mom Esther was leaning on the fence watching us sparing together. "Lordly - Lordy, You two out here caring on like you was something." "We are something, we are God's children," hollered back Clifford knowing what his mother enjoyed hearing.
Mrs. Beekman smiled approvingly and opened the gate on the fence, so we could drag the large clump of peonies into her yard.
"I will plant it for you." I said to her. Where do you want it?"
She pointed to a spot and I started to dig.
"Not too deep, Thomas, "she cried out to me. "They won't bloom child, if you plant them too deep. Esther Beekman was correct about that. She was accurate in her observation, except for me being a child. She has called me "child" since I was sixteen years old. That was twenty years ago.
Cliff grabbed a rake and pretended to help me. "Donkey dick -"child", now that a stretch," he mumbled so his mom couldn't hear.
"A-huh," was all I replied
Cliff helped me clean up and put the tools away. We watered the plant well and flopped down in a couple of lawn chairs to rest. I don't know why he wanted to rest. I did most of the work.
His mom brought us out a couple of glasses of lemonade and slices of warm pecan pie.
I leaned back staring at Cliff. I find it hard to criticize him. Clifford has skin like velvet and smells like lily of the valley. We have grown up together and I have watched him grow from a scrawny black kid into man. Cliff has a beard and he does look hot.
Out in public, he is liable to flaunt everything from a tough guy stance to a girlie-man queer. He thinks he is a standup comic. It works for him because to the world, he is Clifford. At times he can be really funny.
I am the white version of Clifford, and a former high school nerd. I have a textbook cock and that alone should take me far. Lord, only knows why I was blessed with that -but it does peek folks interest. We are growing beards competing with each other for the 2020 and beyond look. We are adolescents at heart and plan to keep trying at life, until we get it right, or die of old age.
This is where the story begins...
Cliff's mom is a widow and she and Clifford are living together next to us, as they have been for years. How many years, I don't recall.
Thunder storms have been hitting us from time to time, causing power failures. We live along the east coast, and although we escape hurricane damage, we do get hit with some powerful rain and wind. I took it on my own to have a generator installed. My dad is getting older and not concerned about such things. As if age has anything to do with it.
It was early October and hurricanes were hitting the US east coast and drenching the Carolinas. Sure enough, on Thursday October 8th we had a city wide power failure just as evening was approaching. It happened fast, like a runaway stagecoach.
"Go next door and find Esther. She is alone and I worry about her in the house," my mother said to me.
I headed out the kitchen door as Cliff pulled into the driveway. It was pouring rain, so I stayed on the porch.
"Power failure, I yelled out to him. Get mom and come over here." Orders from the kitchen," I said
"Okay," he yelled back. He stopped in the doorway and shouted back- "What about the kitchen?" he asked
"Nothing – I am trying to be funny," I screamed, along with a clap of thunder. "Well you're not - leave the jokes to me," he replied, shaking the water from his shoes.
The power was off for forty eight hours, so Cliff and Esther stayed with us and I shared my bedroom with Cliff.
We rested on top of the bed side by side watching TV. This was really cool and it brought me back to our adolescent days when we had stayovers and raised hell.
Those days are gone and now I look at Cliff in a hungry way. He never said, but I believe I affect him in the same manner.
It was getting later and later. The folks were sleeping and we could hear the generator still working, as the wind howled around the house.
We both stripped down to our underwear and crawled under the sheets. Cliff removed his tee shirt and was bare chested. The skinny young black boy I remember was gone. The black kid with no butt was also gone. In its place was Clifford Beekman, a gorgeous hottie hiding that body spender under a baggy shirt and drooping pants.
I left my tee shirt on but couldn't control my dick. Having Cliff next to me feeling the warmth of his semi naked body had me rock hard. When he reached over and took my hand, I lost it.
We were lying in bed facing one another with only the glow from a nightlight. Cliff touched my nose with his tongue. With a horny reaction, I grabbed his tongue with my lips and we were kissing.
We scooted together closer, crotch to crotch, and we were both hard. One of us (probably me) reached for cock. This was a highway I thought about travelling all my life, but never had the nerve to go in this direction.
"What's that thing between yur legggs," giggled Cliff
"Figure it out for yourself," I said. "If you lick it, it will spit at you," I replied trying to be funny but messing it up badly.
"Is that a fact?" mumbled Cliff
We both pulled off our underwear and pushed together naked kissing and beginning a licking routine that just about drove me crazy.
I knew I was hung well, but the chocolate cock on Clifford was a velvet torpedo. Size made no difference to either of us, but since we both had it – we flaunted it.
"You are leaking like a mutherfucker," Cliff said to me, rubbing his finger round the head of my cock. "Just look at this shit," he said holding his finger in front of my face.
"You're supposed to taste it," I said
"I know that," mumbled Cliff licking his finger. "It's pretty good."
This nonsense was getting to me. We were men in our thirties behaving like twelve year olds exploring our bodies for the first time figuring what to do next. It was either get serious and dirty time, or tear up the gay manual and bring out the straight prom pictures from High School.
Like a slut in high heels, I was between Cliff's thighs sliding my mouth down his big chocolate cock. I took it in, just as I had taken his tongue, knowing, that this was what I was meant to do.
Who would have believed that my best buddy, and a long time black neighbor, wanted me between his legs sniffing and licking the sweat from his package. No kidding, it was intoxicating. His cock became slimy wet and his balls rolled like poached eggs. It was a talent competition between us and who loved sex more, was up for grabs
He pulled me back to his face and began tongue dueling my mouth with a kiss that would make the French blush. His hand was holding my cock and he was mumbling. He said something, but I couldn't make out what he was saying.
"What did you say?" - I asked quietly.
"Cock, Tom. This white toy is my cock," he mumbled squeezing my dick and claiming me for himself.
"Of course," I replied. We share everything and it is about time we got around to the real thing. You can have it, but I get to keep it with me"
"That's what I'm sayin," agreed Cliff
"We have always been gay but it never became an issue. We didn't think of having sex together because we were like brothers, and it didn't occur to us, that brothers could fucked around together." I told Cliff trying to sound convincing
"Where the hell did you get that dumb idea? It must be a cracker thing. Man... I have fucked your ass a hundred times in my dreams. I ain't dreaming, no more. This butt is mine." He said reaching back and squeezing the cheeks of my ass.
My heart was racing with excitement and I was emotionally on fire. Cliff has been the secret love of my life, and now his black `everything,' belonged to me. I wanted to get my face in the forbidden zone; so I went for it.
I locked the bedroom door although it probably wasn't necessary.
The top sheet I pulled back displaying the gorgeous chocolate body in my bed waiting for me to serve him. I crawled between his legs and he lifted his butt. I put his legs on my shoulders and a pillow under his ass. Cliff's butt was even with my face and I kissed his ass.
"Eat your niggar, he said to me wiggling closer to my face. I opened his cheeks and ran my tongue over the crack of his ass zeroing in on his black hole and pushing my tongue inside. He felt like screaming obscenities, but didn't.
In total acceptance, Cliff's hips bucked uncontrollably with my face pressed against his melon globed dark ass. His butt was a melting pot in the place where I wanted more and not less.
Cliff kept mumbling quietly, although nobody could hear us. The wind and rain was noisy and the door was locked. At last, I was where I always wanted to be and that was all that mattered.
"C'mon niggar, he said to me – Get the fuck in there."
"Bro, you always call me cracker," I mumbled for some stupid reason. This was no time for a speech lesson. I don't know why, I even mentioned it.
"Suppose when we fuck, I just call you baby." He said
"Yeah – yeah, I like that better – but only in private. We have moms you know.
"Duh... Do you have anything more to say? I fuckin know that." mumbled Cliff? "C'mon baby and get back in there for a few more licks; damn that is sweet."
I continue rimming his black ass devouring his flavor which was a humongous turn on. I wanted so badly to get my white cock in that dark hole, but didn't peruse it. This was a lasting relationship, no need to do everything tonight.
Cliff was back on top of me, munching on my ear and licking my lips. "I want to see what my ass taste likes," he said licking my mouth.
"Ewe, you're a dirty boy," I blurted out, but not resisting
"Count on it," he said "this nigg---oops, I mean, this bro, is gonna be all over you like a fly on shit," and then he laughed...okay-okay, manure. "Is that better? He asked
Cliff had an incredible way about him and one never knew what he would say next. I absolutely loved him, and the way we talked to one another would shock the community, but not us. I understood him so well, sometime I could finish his sentences, unless he spouted "hood" English, which was seldom.
With his knees buckled, Cliff was sucking and licking my throbbing cock expertly. He slapped my balls and managed to suck both of them into his hot wet mouth, where his tongue probed, pushed and encircled them.
I whispered, "Do anything" in total lust as my hips bucked uncontrollably and my pubic hair pressed against Cliff's thick pink lips. It was a gorgeous thing, seeing my long white cock being sucked by a black face surrounded with black whiskers from a trimmed beard. This was faggot sex at its finest.
"You're a hot piece of white bread," he said, then went back to sucking my balls.
"That's a new one – what happen to cracker? I asked
"I'm eating it right now, you dumb ass."
"Good answer"
"Hey, I do the funny lines around here," He said crawling back on top of me and holding me close to him.
Cliff began jerking me off as I laid on my back. He had a firm grip and I came quickly. I don't think it was so much the hand job, as it was having him touching me.
I shot on my stomach and gobs and gobs of creamy white sauce ran down my side and onto the sheet. I wiped some, in my hand and put it on Cliff's thick dark lips.
"Do I have too? He asked keeping his mouth closed as tight as possible
"Nope," I replied
"Ah, what the hell – fuck it. Cliff opened his mouth and licked cum from my hand. He did a good job even licking my fingers. "That's it bro – no more, let me get used to eating this shit" then he grabbed his stiff chocolate cock and started pumping.
"I'll do that for you ," I said
"Next time , I'm in a hurry and I know the stokes. He no sooner said the words when white lava flowed over the head of his cock and flooded the black skin on his stomach. It was abundant, white and thick.
History repeats itself, for Cliff did the very same thing that I did just minutes earlier. He scooped some cum off his stomach and headed for my face.
I caught his hand in mid-air and slurped the gooey cum from his palm and continued sucking his fingers. Then I went to his stomach and licked off what was left. I was determined to get the flavor from his cock and balls as well.
"Lord Jesus, he mumbled cradling me in his arms. Mine baby, you are mine. Did you like that cum? `cause I get in the feedin mood a lot, just so you know." He said
"I get in the eating mood a lot, just so you know, I answered him
"You can say something more direct than that," he blurted out like a lawyer
"I see you understand the obvious. That should do it
"Good night Cliff"
"Good night Tom"
The rain continued and we felt good – amazingly good.
jbalancier9@yahoo.com A comment would be welcomed.