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This is a work of fiction. All persons are intended to be age 18 and above.
THANK GOD FOR THE CLOTHES DRYER
By anonymous.a
I recently moved to a new neighborhood. I'm much happier here, because it's a neighborhood filled with good-looking guys.
For instance, there's a young Air Force officer in the house to the right of mine. I see him jogging sometimes. He likes to wear those floppy, filmy shorts, the ones that cling to every contour of your body when they move. I can see his packing some serious firepower between those long, lean legs.
There's a young non-com across the street and to the right. He's tall and skinny, and very married, dammit. But that never stopped me before. I think given the right circumstances just about any man could be persuaded to give up his nut for another guy. I can't wait to give Tall Boy that chance.
Then there's another non-com directly across from me. He's always working on cars, day in and day out. His girlfriend is often out there with him. I've often fantasized about helping a guy work on his car – while he's flat on his back under the car, his junk hanging out of those baggy shorts, my hand is busy making sure his cock and balls are in perfect working order.
Two houses down to the left is a college-age kid. I'd guess he's 19 or 20. Have you ever seen a guy you would describe as "beautiful"? Because this kid is gorgeous. Every time I see him I want to take his face in my hands and kiss him – tenderly, sweetly. And then fuck his brains out of course.
And then there's the subject of this story, the young married guy who walks his dog through the neighborhood. He's the spitting image of an actor I've seen in a couple of horror movies – Kerr Smith. Ever seen the guy? Look him up. He's incredibly good-looking, with a beautiful smile, a terrific body – just everything you'd want in a guy.
I see the married guy in mornings, mostly, when I'm heading out for my walk to the park. He's usually walking his pooch, a white husky-type breed. He always smiles and says hello. His voice is so velvety smooth he should be in radio.
Who knows? Maybe he is. The radio industry pays for shit and it just so happens this guy and his wife are so deprived of funds he has to take public transport to work. I see him sometimes at the stop, waiting for the van to come by with its retinue of bums and elderly people. I feel kind of sorry for some of them, our hunk included. I'd be happy to give him a ride to work every morning – for a price.
As it happens, I got to exercise that option just the other day.
I got up that morning and went about my routine, taking my time because I had taken the day off from work. I got myself ready for my walk and stepped out the front door, only to see it was pouring. Sometimes I'll walk in the rain if it isn't too heavy, but this was a gully washer as some of the old-timers say. Even with an umbrella I'd get soaked.
Just then, who should come walking down the road, heading for the bus stop, but the married guy. He was already drenched and faced another 10 minutes in the rain before the bus arrived.
As he passed by my house I yelled, "Hey, c'mon up here." He turned and looked my way, then jogged across the sodden yard and came in under the front porch.
"Are you nuts? You're soaking wet. You can't work all day in wet clothes."
He took off his jacket and shook the water from it. "I don't appear to have a choice," he said.
"Yeah you do. Get your ass inside. I'll throw your clothes in the dryer. Fifteen minutes from now they'll be dry, and I'll give you a ride to the job."
He looked at me suspiciously. "Why would you do that? You don't even know me."
I guess it did sound like a deal that was too good to be true. I tried to make light of it.
"Well, I mean, we're neighbors and all. It ain't gonna kill me to do a favor for a neighbor."
He seemed to relax and even smiled. "Well that's darn neighborly of you, but I don't want to put you out."
I promised him it wouldn't be a problem. I opened the door and led him inside. My washer and dryer were in a separate laundry room, so I took him down the hallway. When we got there I ordered him to strip.
"Everything," I said. "Take it all off."
He looked uncertain. "Uh, I don't have anything to wear."
I told him I'd get him a towel. In fact, I left to get one from the linen closet. When I came back, he had taken off his shoes, pants and shirt. His belt and wallet sat on a shelf.
"Everything," I repeated, nodding at his boxers and socks as I put his clothes in the dryer. While I had my back turned he got out of this shorts and handed them to me, along with his socks, which were heavy with rainwater. I tossed them in, set the dryer on high heat and hit the start button. The cycle would last half an hour.
When I turned around he had his back to me. I sucked in a breath at the sight of his ass. It was perfectly shaped and covered with a thin layer of hair, which was a huge turn-on for me. I really hate that guys shave their crotches and asses these days, because body hair is a hugely attractive feature on a man. Shaving it off makes them look like a child. I don't want to have sex with a 12-year-old boy.
I handed him the towel. He used it to dry his hair, then wrapped it around his waist, as if he had just gotten out of the shower. When he was done we went back to the living room. He sat down on the couch; I took the recliner.
During the ensuing conversation I learned his name was Kelly. He was 23 years old and had been married about a year. His wife worked in the office at a nearby elementary school. He did not have a job per se; he took the bus each day to one of those day labor companies. Some days he mowed yards. Others, he roofed houses. Yet others he worked data entry, which is what he hoped to do on a permanent basis.
As we talked I could not maintain eye contact with him. My gaze kept descending to the gap between his legs. There, in plain sight, was his cock and balls. I wouldn't say he had an enormous dick – it was probably average in length. But it was nicely shaped, and his balls were bigger than most. His package was nestled in a valley of dark pubic hair, very manly and alluring.
He must have noticed me staring because he suddenly unwrapped the towel and left it lying on the couch. He didn't say anything, but he did smile faintly, as if he had known all along that the price of my drying his clothes and taking him to work would be a sexual liaison. He reached down and lifted his cock slightly so that it flopped on his thigh. His balls slid within his scrotum to accommodate his dick's new position.
My heart was hammering in my chest. I didn't say anything either – I was afraid a spoken word would break the spell that had fallen over the room. Instead, I rose from the recliner, approached the couch, and dropped to my knees. I crawled between his legs, which he had spread, and took that warm cock in my mouth.
He sighed when the moist heat of my mouth descended over his fuckstick. It was not fully hard yet and truth be told, I like to lick and suck a nice dick before it becomes rigid. That's when you get the best mouth-feel and taste from it. His didn't have any scent or taste to speak of because it had been washed clean by the rain, but as I dove down to the base, my mouth scraping along the shaft, my nose entered his bush and there I smelled a distinct odor of sex. All those little glands within the crotch, the ones that gave off that musky, earthy smell of stimulation that made the skin sticky – they were working in high gear.
His hand traveled to the back of my head. I felt his fingers work their way through my hair as he pushed me down so that his dick was buried in my mouth. He wasn't long enough to hit my throat. I'd guess his cock was about 5½ inches long, which was perfectly average for a white guy. But it was fat and hairy, and I wasted no time bringing it to full hard-on.
My tongue flattened and worked the underside of his shaft, then came up and probed his piss hole. I ran it around the ring of his mushroom cap, then raised and lowered my mouth until I had established a rhythm. That elicited a moan from him as the friction intensified. His cock became a hot poker in my mouth, and I was loving the sensation of him impaling himself on me.
I pulled off his throbbing dick and started licking those egg-sized balls. Here, the taste was more distinct, and his scrotum was stickier. I loved the feel of his ball-sac hairs scraping across my tongue. I didn't take his nuts into my mouth; despite what you read in some of these stories, the sensation of a guy taking your testicle into his mouth isn't a turn-on, at least not for me. But licking the sac? Oh hell yeah.
As I licked those cum-filled monsters, my nose pressing against his prick, he raised his feet from the floor and put them on the couch cushion to either side of me. Then, he pushed his ass out and changed the angle of his body so that the gap between his scrotum and asshole became accessible. Again, I wasted no time running my tongue into that secret place. And when I descended to that dark valley between his butt cheeks, I used my hand to pull them apart and reveal my prize.
His hole was a thing to behold, nestled in bristly pubes and pulsing slightly. I planted my mouth over it and began working it with my tongue. He gasped and increased the pressure against the back of my head, until my nose was firmly planted between his balls and my mouth had formed a suction between his sticky, smelly butt cheeks. I began probing it with my tongue and it yielded slightly so that my tongue actually began to enter him. The heat of his hole was higher than any fever; I felt like my face was melting into this ass crack.
I kept that up a few minutes until he said, "Get me in your mouth." I reared up and took his cock into my mouth, swallowing it to the base, and as he held my head in place he thrust his crotch forward and emptied a mighty spewing of cum directly into my mouth. Then a second volley, and a third. Some of it leaked from my lips; I couldn't hold it all in. I started swallowing so I didn't lose any, and his cock continued to twitch as smaller ejaculations of semen spurted from his piss hole. I rolled it around in my mouth to extract the flavor – it was sweet, the way pecans can sometimes have a slightly sweet taste. I greedily sucked on his cock until it deflated and stopped leaking.
About that time the dryer timer buzzed. I pulled off Kelly and he got himself off the couch. I watched him walk back to the laundry room, those hairy butt cheeks flexing in rhythm to his gait. He opened the dryer and pulled out his clothes. As he bent over to put on his boxers, I couldn't help but drop to my knees and plant my face in that luscious crack. He gave his butt a playful wiggle and grabbed the back of my head, forcing me deeper into his crack. Just as my tongue gave a wet, slobbery lap over his rectum, he backed off and pulled up his shorts.
"Next time I'm going to fuck you," he said.
Wow. Next time. My heart soared at the prospect of this sexy boy ramming that fat rod deep into my asshole.
"But for now, neighbor, I would really appreciate that ride to work." He smiled and I fished the car keys out of my pocket.
It was only fair that I give him a ride. He had given me one helluva ride!
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