“I think he’s out there again…”
Alexis was sitting at our breakfast bar working on an assignment, and peering out the glass sliding door at the patio fence. I looked up from my book and followed her gaze from my cozy spot on the sofa and saw the slow shifting patterns of shadow and light that gave away the movement from next door.
“I mean, I’m not mad about it.” I joked.
“Gross, James!” She screwed up her nose and chuckled. I shrugged and gave her a cheeky smirk. “It’s so weird that he’s always poking around out there at weird hours.”
“It’s his patio, he’s not doing anything wrong.”
“In his underwear though?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe he doesn’t know we can see? The gaps in the palings are pretty narrow. Or maybe he does know but doesn’t really care.” Alexis pursed her lips and returned her attention to her laptop.
Alexis and I had moved in after our previous leases wound up. We were excited to be living together as best friends, and to have an apartment to ourselves. Alexis had finished her master degree and was now doing research at her college, and I had started a new job with promising opportunities. Now in our mid twenties, it was nice to only share with one other person, instead of a rotating cast of roommates.
It was an older building, and quite modest, but it was clean and well-kept. It was a long narrow building that stretched as close to the property line as possible on either side to maximize floor space. The neighboring building was a mirrored version of ours, and our ground floor apartment opened onto a small patio that butted up against the tall fence between them.
We hadn’t met our neighbor over the patio fence, or even talked to him, but we knew he was there. We’d hear him pacing around his patio, and saw slivered glimpses of him in passing whenever we’d go outside. One time, Alexis had stepped into the narrow garden bed and leaned over to the fence to peek through and say hello, but decided against it when she saw an older man in his underpants. Feeling awkward and not wanting to be seen, she fled quietly inside, stifling an awkward giggle.
Of course there’s nothing strange or unusual about a neighbor being on their patio, and had Alexis’ good intentions not caused her to spy them in their tighty-whities, we’d probably never thought anything more of it. We would share some lighthearted jokes about it since, but it was just goofing. Alexis loved Friends, and I think she just thought it was fun to have her own version of Ugly Naked Guy.
I began reading my book again, but I couldn’t help looking through the glass door out the corner of my eye. Though my attention was divided, I finally got to the end of my chapter, and shortly after there was quiet and stillness outside on the hidden patio.
* * *
A few weeks later and the joke had petered out, although Alexis was sure that every time he was out there, he was in his underpants. I dissuaded the Ugly Naked Guy gag, since it didn’t seem very nice—some parts of Friends certainly hadn’t aged well—and had quipped “Well, he can’t be that ugly if you keep ogling him in his undies, Lexi.”
“Well, he’s not hot, but he’s no prize, that’s for sure!”
“Leave him be, Lex.”
Realizing that she’d lost her audience, and perhaps a bit embarrassed, she mostly stopped mentioning it.
I had a day off from work, and Alexis was in classes all day. It was the perfect opportunity to catch up on chores that I’d been neglecting and then relax for the rest of the day. I was pottering about in the kitchen when the washing machine chimed, letting me know it was done. I wiped my hands on a tea towel and hauled the load of clean clothes into the basket. Slipping out of the sliding glass door onto the patio, I dumped the basket down and began hanging out my shirts and tees on the retractable clothesline.
It was a sunny day, and the heat beat down into the space between the buildings. I was keen to get back into the air conditioning, but felt a sense of satisfaction that my laundry would dry quickly and I’d manage to get it all done today. Small pleasures.
I heard some scuffling on the pavers of the patio next door, and looking to my right, I saw the shifting shadow and light through the gaps in the palings as my neighbor moved about their little courtyard.
For some reason, I froze, feeling like I was trespassing. It was silly; I was on my own patio, they were on theirs, there was a fence between us. What was the problem? A nebulous, undefined image of an older man in white y-fronts popped into my mind. I gave my head a shake, as if trying to erase an etch-a-sketch, and an involuntary, embarrassed little huff escaped my mouth.
The neighbor stopped moving; I heard a faint sound as if they were trying to quietly clear their throat. A slight tingle poured down my spine; had they heard me? Had I disturbed their private patio time? Again I chastised myself; don’t be so silly!
I returned to my laundry and with a forced casualness continued to hang out my clothes.
I heard the neighbor moving again, and I was sure they’d come nearer to the fence. I looked over again, and could definitely see the vague form of a person through the gaps.
“Hello?” a voice called. If this guy was old, he didn’t sound it. I was beginning to think Alexis had just been embellishing her carry-on.
“Oh… hi there,” I returned, as I dropped some pajama pants back into the basket and stood up straight.
“Welcome to the neighborhood. Sorry I haven’t said hi sooner.” His voice wasn’t especially deep, but it had a slight rasp to it, that was pleasant and gave it a warm quality.
“Oh, no problem. Thanks for the welcome.”
There was an awkward silence between us, heavy with the potential energy of who would speak next.
“I’m Callum,” he said.
“I’m James. And my housemate is Alexis.”
“Nice to meet you, sorta.”
“Yah! Sorta.”
We both giggled awkwardly. I took a few steps closer to the fence. Nearing the edge of the garden bed around the perimeter of the courtyard, I started catching more glimpses of Callum’s form through the narrow columns of negative space. I saw a kaleidoscope of some blond hair, the fold of an ear, some more blond hair but this time fuzzier, perhaps a forearm. He shifted his weight, and a nipple came into view, then more fuzz, and then the white and grey stripes of an elastic waistband, and then a bare leg… my face began to prickle as a blush spread across it.
“Well, uh, I’ll catch you around,” said Callum, and I heard him trudge across the pavers. As he moved away from the fence and back towards his own sliding glass door, more of his frame came into focus in the narrow gap. From the back, I could see that he was maybe around my same height, a broader build, and he was definitely only wearing underpants.
I had maybe paused too long before I said “Yeah, sure!” Had he seen me come closer to the fence? Did he retreat because he didn’t want me to see him? He hadn’t sounded embarrassed or angry; just friendly. And he hadn’t seemed to rush back to his door. From what I could see, he just ambled back sedately. Through the narrowly spaced fence boards, I saw him kick off a pair of slides onto a doormat, and then he disappeared inside.
I stood still for a moment. I had stepped over to the fence to be polite and chat to my newly-met neighbor, but I had gotten a lot more than I bargained for. An odd swirl of sensations swept around my stomach. I felt sheepish and awkward about seeing a stranger in a state of undress, but also it was undeniably exciting. I never got a clear and complete picture, but the small pieces of the puzzle that had been revealed to me had given me a flutter of titillation. From the patches of body hair, I was relatively confident that he had a hairy chest and forearms. From the back I saw he had a full head of blond hair, and was solidly built. I hadn’t seen enough of his face to have any real idea what he looked like, but… I had a hunch.
What’s wrong with you!? I chastised myself as I turned back to the clothes line and hung out the last few pieces of clothing. Why was I starting to feel giddy over someone I didn’t know and hadn’t even seen properly. I already knew that I wouldn’t tell Alexis about this little interaction, partly because it felt somehow incriminating, and partly because it felt like an exciting little secret.
* * *
Alexis never really had any reason to go out onto the patio. She usually took her washing over to her parents’ place since our dryer was broken. Being at the rear of the building, our patio had a gate opening onto the street that ran along the back of the property, but we just used the apartment’s front door. So, whenever I would go hang out my laundry or water my wilting collection of pot plants, if Callum was there, we would share a few moments, voices over a fence, and developed an amiable little acquaintance. We never went any further than the niceties of hi-how-are-you, but it was a pleasant rhythm to have with a neighbor.
I still had no better idea of what the man looked like. If Callum was on the patio, I tended not to venture too close to the fence. As tantalizing as the thought of getting a better look at him, it felt like overstepping a line. From a distance I would still catch the narrowest slivers of pink skin, blond hair, and white fabric, but it was so abstract and these formless pieces of data refused to reconcile into a larger picture.
I began to notice that he was out there quite a lot, and not just when I saw and heard movement. Several times I’d be out on the patio not realizing he was there, and I’d hear his warm, friendly “Hi, James!”. At first it gave me a start, but soon I looked forward to his greetings, and would try to dismiss the disappointment when he wasn’t outside.
I was getting quite curious about what he was doing out on his patio all the time. Not that it was any great mystery; he might have an outdoor dining table, or deck chair, or any number of things that might bring him out onto the patio. But, really, I was just curious about Callum in general.
I was out pegging up t-shirts and socks and underwear one day, when I heard the familiar “Hi, James,” from across the divide, and with a feint flutter of butterflies in my tummy, I resolved to ask what he was up to.
“Hi Callum, how’s it going?”
“Oh, good, good. Yourself?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Just hanging out some laundry,” I said. I held my breath for a moment while I swallowed my social awkwardness and found my nerve. “So, what’re you up to today?” Okay, so it was a bit vague and broad, but it was a start.
I heard Callum shift in whatever position he was in, and cleared his throat a little. Before I could start worrying whether I’d made things awkward, he replied. “I’m reading at the moment.” His voice was bright and tentative, and the fact that he was also a reader sparked an excitement over common interests.
“That’s neat! I never thought to sit out here and read.”
“You’re a reader?” he asked.
“Yeah, I love reading. What’ve you got on the go at the moment?”
I heard scuffing of wood on pavers, and his footsteps coming towards the fence. I looked over and saw a set of thick, square fingers close over the top of the fence, followed by a tuft of blond hair, and then a pleasant, bearded face. Callum smiled at me from the top of the fence—he must have been standing on his tiptoes in the garden bed—and reached over with his other hand to show me a book. It was an older book by one of my favorite authors.
“Oh! I love that one! Are you enjoying it?”
“Yeah, it’s pretty great so far. No spoilers though!” he chuckled.
“I wouldn’t dream of it! I’m kinda jealous; I wish I could read it for the first time again.”
“Yeah, I know that feeling.”
There was a pause, and my attention left the book to finally take in the reveal of the mysterious Callum. His face was square and his expression was open and good-natured. He had a thick but neat blond beard, slightly darker than the hair on his head, which was a pale straw blond and beginning to thin out and recede a little at the temples. He had a strong nose that was angular without being sharp, and nicely anchored the features of his broad face. Beneath thick, straight eyebrows were the most startling green eyes I’d ever seen. They were large and wide, and had a lively, intelligent gleam to them. He was older than Alexis and I for sure, maybe ten years at most, maybe in his mid thirties. Alexis had made it sound like he was actually elderly.
I lowered my eyes momentarily, following the space between two fence palings, a column of pink flesh with an interlude of white fabric… I saw the hint of a seam that made up part of the Y-front of his underpants and blushed. I swallowed and returned my attention back to the friendly face floating at the top of the fence. Oh god, did he notice? Was he offended? It had been only a second, but it felt like longer. I felt a drop of sweat on my forehead, my telltale sign of social anxiety.
I couldn’t tell if he had noticed, but his smile widened. He hefted the elbow of the arm holding the book up onto the top of the fence to keep his balance, and with the other arm he reached out and over the fence, extending his hand to me. Both arms were bare.
“It’s nice meet you properly at last, James,” he said, smile lines crinkling at the corner of those brilliant green eyes.
I crossed the few feet toward the fence and reached up, shaking his hand, making sure not to squeeze too hard or too softly.
“Likewise!” I felt goosebumps spread across the skin of my arms, hoping Callum wouldn’t notice.
He gave me another wide grin. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it. Have a good day!” he said and disappeared from view and stepped away from the fence.
“You too!” I said as I picked up my laundry basket and headed back inside.
So, Callum had been revealed and, at least from the chin up, he was incredibly handsome. I smiled to myself in satisfaction; my hunch had been right. But I also felt a restlessness come over me, like that odd melancholy that sets in after your friends have all left after a visit after not seeing them for a long time. I was trying to be a mature and reasonable person; I was trying not to think anything of my neighbor lounging about in their briefs in the privacy of their own patio. And yet, I couldn’t quash the giddiness of a school kid writing about their crush in their diary.
I wanted to go back out there and ask him more questions about books, or maybe himself, and get closer to the fence, and to see that hairy, friendly face with the emerald eyes appear over the palings again. I chuckled; be cool, James, I thought to myself.
Instead, I went into my room and flopped onto my bed. Maybe he’d be out there in a few hours when I went out to bring in the dry laundry. I thought about picking up my book to pass the time, but as I lay there thinking about Callum, I felt a tightening at the top of my thighs as the crotch of my pants began to tent. My cock pushed against the layers of fabric, fueled by images of a well-built blond man in white briefs. I sighed and let the fantasy take hold, and reached my hand down to knead the growing bulge, encouraging the arousal and my imagination.
I imagined Callum’s thick furry arms wrapping around me and his wide smiling lips moving closer to mine, and as my dick grew progressively stiffer I felt the swelling coax the foreskin back from the head. The tip revealed itself and rubbed against the fabric of my underpants, bare glans against cotton, and as the sensitivity increased, this friction was heaven. I continued to rub and push, and roll my palm over the straining mound in my pants, and my breath slowed to long aspirated sighs.
I begin trying to fill in the gaps, I imagined his chest with broad, solid pecs, shaded in a broad triangle of chest hair that came to a point where his sternum met his belly, in the same slightly darker blond of his beard. I imagined a thick trunk of an abdomen, toned, with the faint outline of those v-shaped muscles disappearing into the waistband of a pair of tighty-whities that were struggling to contain their contents.
I was leaking so much precum now that the wet patch had soaked through my underwear and I could feel a slick filmy patch spreading slowly from where the tip of my dick was poking insistently at the crotch of my shorts.
I swirled my finger tips around the sticky patch, almost as if polishing it, and held my hand in front of my face, tapping my index finger and thumb together and watching the glistening strands of precum stretching between them. Does Callum leak a lot of precum? I thought wistfully as I licked my fingers clean.
There was commotion at the front door, and Alexis’ voice sang out from the entry hall.
“I’m home!”
Perfect timing, I thought wryly, as I got up to change into new shorts and undies.
* * *
It was a few days later, and I was sweeping up the dust and detritus that had accumulated across the patio pavers. I had considered putting my earbuds in to listen to music or an audiobook while I worked, but I didn’t to miss hearing Callum if he came outside as well. And sure enough, it wasn’t long before I heard his sliding door open, and his plodding footsteps.
The footsteps stopped, and after a moment, I heard “Hi, James!”
“Heya, Callum!” I returned cheerily.
I heard crunching as he stepped into the garden bed, and that handsome, smiling face appeared over the fence again. “I finished my book,” he said, his eyes twinkling.
“Neat! Did you like it?”
“I loved it, it was awesome!”
“Oh! Wait right there, I’ll be right back.” I laid down the broom and dashed inside, as Callum cocked a curious eyebrow.
I returned with my copy of the next book in the series. Trying to think nothing of it, I casually walked straight over to the fence, but not too close; I stepped gingerly into the garden bed just far enough to comfortably hand him the book.
“Here,” I said, holding it out for him, “this is the next one in the series.”
Those expressive eyebrows lifted together, and a smile creased the corners of his eyes.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely! You’ll have to tell me what you think of it, and I can loan you the rest of the series too if you like.”
“Thanks! That’s very kind of you. I’ll get it back to you ASAP”
“Please, no rush. I know where you live,” I said, trying to be winsome and effortlessly casual.
He chuckled and I’m pretty sure he gave me a wink. I wasn’t certain though; do people still wink at each other? I felt a blush pool across my cheeks.
We chatted for a bit longer, just niceties and small talk. He had rested both forearms along the top of the fence now, and he didn’t seem to be straining at all. He must be quite tall; taller than I had first thought.
I was still standing just inside the garden bed, and I used all of my restraint to keep my head tilted upwards, looking him in the face or casting my gaze to the side to avoid staring or letting my eyes wander to the gaps in the fence.
But at one point, he turned his head to clear his throat, and I took my chance. I dropped my eyes for only a moment. I saw a pink nipple, hard and round, couched in a swirl of blond chest hair; I saw a belly button, much closer, pressed right against the gap in the palings, smooth wefts of blond hair above and below it.
I returned my eyes to the top of the fence, and Callum was looking back down at me, his face with a warm expression on it, calm and friendly, but there was something else… a quirk at the corner of his mouth; did I detect a dimple beneath that blond beard? It had only be a split second that I had allowed myself to look. Had he caught me?
“Well, I don’t want to keep you from your work. I think I’ll go get started on this next book. Thanks again! That was very thoughtful.” He held the book up and give it an appreciative waggle.
“My pleasure!”
And with that, he disappeared from behind the fence, and I finished up my sweeping.
* * *
And so it went. Over the next few months, Callum and I continued our tentative friendship. We loaned each other books, passing them over the fence and discussing them while we paced our courtyards or leaned against the fence. I continued to catch glimpses of his body through the narrow gaps in the palings. He wasn’t always in his underwear, and even a few times I could tell he was fully dressed, but he was topless and trouserless more often than not.
The little visual scraps—a pink nipple here, a swirl of blond hair there—would resurface in my fantasies, and when Alexis wasn’t home I would jerk off and call on these titillating morsels to intensify my orgasms. The more I got to know Callum, the more attractive he became, and the more intense the orgasms.
* * *
One Friday night, a huge storm passed through the area while Alexis was away on a research trip a few towns over. The countryside and outer suburbs were drenched in torrential rain and pummeled with hail, and some of the rural roads and highways had been washed out. She decided to extend her trip for several days and squeeze in some extra work on her project. By the time the storm reached the city, it had already dumped all of its water but continued to lash the inner suburbs with angry winds.
That night, I sat on the sofa with my book, listening to the howling and shrieking. The narrow gap between the buildings caused a wind tunnel effect, and the sliding glass door to the patio rattled intermittently as the wind swept through like a non-stop invisible train.
After I had gone to bed, I heard a sudden crash out on the patio that nearly gave me a heart attack. I lay there, still as rock, listening for more crashes. When none came, I crept into the living area and couldn’t see anything alarming. Seeing that all was well inside, I decided that I would investigate outside in the morning, and scurried back to bed.
That morning, I woke up to a surprisingly quiet day. The storm had either run out of puff, or had swept itself well clear of the city. I had a shower and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, and went to survey the damage.
Peering out onto the patio, I saw a splash of soil across the pavers, the bedraggled remnants of some kind of plant, maybe a succulent, and a cracked plastic hanging pot, lying on its side against the edge of the garden bed, with the chains splayed out around it.
I stepped outside and looked up. A few stories up, I spied a balcony with a row of hanging pots swinging gently from the spandrels, with a noticeable gap in the spacing. The roaring winds had sent this one to its death on my patio.
Walking over to the destroyed plastic pot, I saw that a conifer shrub in the corner of the garden was bending over awkwardly. On closer inspection, I saw that several palings from the fence behind the shrub had come loose, and fallen to rest in the springy, needled foliage. The pot must have struck the fence on its way down, causing the palings to come loose, and leaving a wide gap. I eased the rogue palings off of the poor shrub and leaned them gently in the garden bed to tend to later.
Ducking my head under the top rail, I leaned into the gap in the fence to survey the damage. Gripping the paling on one side of the hole, I gave it a jiggle to see how secure it was. It didn’t budge, and I was just about to head back inside to get my phone to photograph the the fence for the estate agent, when I was stopped in my tracks.
In full view from my vantage point in the newly breached fence, I saw a sun lounge on which a large, hairy, blond man was reclined. The lounge was side-on to me, at the other end of the patio, giving me a clear profile view of Callum. His thick, muscular legs were crossed over each other, and he laid back at a relaxed angle, not fully upright, with his forearms resting on his belly holding up the most recent book I had loaned him.
A pair of slides hung off his huge feet, one of them flapping lazily as he bounced his foot in the air. Thick, meaty calves and thighs punctuated by lithe yet sturdy knees and ankles gave me the strange and fleeting thought of turned table legs. At the top of his thighs were the signature tighty-whities, and I couldn’t help but notice the pouch was well-filled, making a prominent hill in his lap, accentuated by the y-front seams framing it.
The waistband wrapped around his thick sides and disappeared under a round, full belly, which somehow looked firm and soft at the same time. In the shadow of the book he was holding, I saw his pecs, which were broad and powerful looking, but softly curved. I could tell that he was hairy all over; although the blond hairs were hard to distinguish against his pale skin from this distance, the morning sun glinted on them as his body moved and flexed with his breath and the bouncing of his foot.
All of this was crowned with that friendly, handsome face I had seen floating over the top of the fence.
And now, that handsome face was looking right at me.
I froze.
He didn’t seem startled or agitated, but merely regarded me with a relaxed and serene expression on his face, like a cat watching the day pass by through a window.
I gasped, and to my horror, as I tried to straighten up and go back through the hole, I rolled an ankle on a rock, and tumbled forward.
“Ow… fuck… err, sorry!” I blustered as I managed to right myself. I was now completely and totally on the other side of the fence, standing in Callum’s garden bed, while he just lay there, almost naked, gazing at me intently. My face burned with embarrassment, and I was completely mortified at my invasion of his privacy. This was no fleeting glance between fence palings while having a conversation. This was something else!
He lowered the book nonchalantly, letting it flop forward against his chest, and pointed to his corner of the patio, where our building ended.
“There’s a gate right there you know,” he smirked at me, as I stood there like a frightened rabbit.
“I’m so sorry… the fence was broken… I was just looking… at…”
He raised an eyebrow, and stopped talking, completely unsure where to look.
He broke into a hearty laugh that seemed to resonate from deep within his thick abdomen. I gawped at him, all pretence of trying not to look gone. He pivoted his body in the seat of the lounge, lay the book down on the cushion, swung his big legs over the edge and stood up.
I felt my dick twitch in spite of the boner-killing embarrassment and awkwardness. He was taller than me, by at least few inches, and he wasn’t as toned and defined as he was in my masturbation fantasies. But rather, he was far more delicious!
His arms and chest had a padding of soft flesh, smoothing any angles and giving them pleasant yet masculine curves. This did not belie the substantial, solid musculature beneath. Similarly, his round belly extended from a thick trunk that seemed soft yet taut at the same time.
The plumpness of his body seemed to enhance his broad, powerful frame rather than obscure it, and the thick covering of smooth, blond body hair served to highlight and emphasize the pleasing lines of his meaty physique. Even though I was quite stocky and broad myself, and not that much shorter, I immediately felt smaller, and involuntarily I took an intimidated step backwards.
He’d stopped laughing, but he was smiling at me.
“Do you wanna come in for a coffee?” He motioned to the glass door across from us.
It took a moment for my brain to parse what he’d just asked me. “Oh… sure, that would be nice,” I managed.
“Great!”
As he began trudging in his bear-like way towards his apartment, he casually readjusted the heavy-looking pouch of his underwear with a square, fuzzy hand. He did it in that completely natural and unthinking way that all guys readjust themselves, but he wasn’t wearing clothes, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
I took a few steps to follow him, and stopped. “Oh, I don’t drink coffee actually,” I blathered. Immediately, a voice in my head shrieked “Drink the fucking coffee, James! Drink whatever he puts in front of you!” The thought of completely sabotaging this interaction with Callum sent a panicked and disappointed chill across my scalp, and my cheeks burned even harder.
“Ah… Well, I have tea. Or juice. Or water,” he said. He turned to give me an appraising look. “But, it’s okay if you need to go.” There was no guile in his tone; his face remained warm, smiling, and friendly. Maybe I hadn’t blown it yet.
“Oh, that would be great!” I chuckled nervously, and followed after him as he slid open the glass door and led me into his apartment. He kicked off the slides at the threshold, and his big, wide feet made soft slapping sounds on the tiled floor inside. He gave a dismissive wave as I stopped to take my loafers off, so I left them on.
Aside from the furnishings, it was an exact mirror of Alexis’ and my apartment. The kitchen, breakfast bar and living area were configured in the same layout but flipped. I looked around and took the space in.
It smelled pleasant, not scented per se, but clean and homely. The furniture in the living room wasn’t matchy, but all complimented each other; dark wood pieces with a classic, timeless style. The sofa and armchairs were accented with just enough cushions and throws to look cozy and inviting. Around the walls, Callum had squeezed bookcases into almost every space that would accommodate them.
He was pottering about in the kitchen. “Is orange juice okay?” he asked.
“Yes please; that’s perfect.”
I watched his broad back as he reached up to fetch a glass from a cupboard; his thick upper arms shifted and flexed, and the valley widened between his broad shoulder blades. His back wasn’t quite as hairy as his front. There was a light dusting of blond hairs along his shoulder blades, and some lighter, fuzzier hairs trailing from the small of his back down into the waist of his underpants. But, his flanks were mostly smooth.
He turned and pushed the glass across the formica surface of the breakfast bar towards me with a smile.
“Thanks!” I took the glass, and he turned back to prepare the coffee machine. I kept expecting him to excuse himself to go put more clothes on, or even just a robe, but he never did. He remained in the kitchen, ambled back and forth, getting the associated accoutrements; mug, spoon, sugar, milk. I marveled at his huge body, those thick, strong arms, the delicious fur, those smooth, sturdy curves that somehow seemed both wholesomely endearing and electrifying sexy at the same time.
“Feel free to look,” he said over his shoulder. I almost spat juice back into the glass. “If there’s anything you want to borrow, feel free.”
The books, James, he meant the books.
Shrugging off my sheepishness, I wandered into the living room and began surveying the bookcases. He had excellent taste! There were so many books peppered through his shelves that I had read and loved, and plenty more that I’d heard of before and piqued my interest. I held the glass in one hand, sipping the cool, tart juice at intervals, and my other hand walked along the endless rows of book spines.
Here and there I would remark about this book or that, and he would issue grunts of agreement or offer chatty little anecdotes. The coffee machine had stopped, and I heard him take a sip of his coffee and set the mug down on the counter. It was quiet in Callum’s apartment now, and while the electric crackle of nerves and excitement was still there, a pleasant, amiable, calm had settled in the room, as the soft, post-storm sunlight poured languidly through the windows.
I was surveying a bookcase with my back to the kitchen, and realized that we hadn’t spoken for a few moments. I went to take a sip from the glass, but I’d finished the juice. I sensed movement over my shoulder, and turned to find Callum behind me.
I’d been so absorbed in book browsing that it startled me. For the first time, a look of uncertainty sailed across Callum’s face like the shadow of clouds on a lake, and his thick, yellow eyebrows furrowed over his glossy, emerald eyes. “Sorry, I was just going to take that for you,” he said, pointing to empty glass in my hand.
“Oh, thanks!”
I turned to face Callum straight on, we were now face to face, a foot away from each other, without any fence between us. I could have melted on the spot. I wondered how my imagination hadn’t even come close to doing justice to this broad, brawny beast in front of me, and a warmth that started in my cheeks spread across my skin, all over my body. I felt that familiar sensation of tightness in my pants, and a twitch of pressure against the fly.
As I handed him the glass, he closed one of his big, square hands around it, and I wasn’t sure whether it was deliberate or not, but some of our fingers overlapped. I felt like the needle skipped in my brain for a fraction of a second, and the touch of his fingers on mine was electric. Instantaneously, a wave of foolishness passed over me—calm down, James, it’s just a touch—but I imagined those old gag buzzers that zap someone when they shake your hand, the ones they sold in the toy stores right next to fake blood and whoopee cushions.
But the touch lingered, and as Callum finally took the glass from my hand and placed it on a side table, I looked up into that square, handsome face. This close to him, I could see a pink flush to his cheeks, spreading softly out from under his well-groomed beard, and the faintest dusting of translucent brown freckles. His rich green irises had fine rings of gold towards the edges.
I realized that he was gazing right back at me. He seemed to be looking for something in my face and, finding it, he lifted a corner of his mouth in a soft smile.
“You’ve been looking at me,” he said, his voice soft but low and measured. The directness stunned me.
“I… the fence was broken…”
He chuckled. “I mean before that.”
I stared at him, my mouth slightly agape, and the prickling blush across my cheeks intensified.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked.
Time seemed to speed up, and my awareness narrowed sharply so that only Callum was in focus. I nodded.
He stepped towards me, closing the distance between us, the summit of his round belly touched mine, and the cloth of my shirt suddenly seemed far too thick and inconvenient. He placed a hand on either side of my face, the thick thumbs gently stroked my cheeks. After gazing into my eyes for another moment he leaned his head down and his firm mouth met mine. We kissed slowly and gently, touching out lips together tentatively.
My hands found purchase on his sides, just above his love handles. He pulled his face away from mine and leaned back to look me in the face again, and almost as if I were afraid that he would step away from me entirely, my hands reached further around his back and upwards a little, and I felt the warmth radiating from his torso.
I gazed back into his eyes, still stunned at what was happening. Callum grinned at me with a self satisfied look on his face and in a split second his lips were back on mine. There was nothing gentle about it this time, it was hard and persistent. As his lips parted, I parted mine in reply and his tongue was immediately in my mouth. I moaned and sucked his writhing tongue, and my arms tightened around his back.
I felt his strong hands spread over my shoulders, gave them a firm squeeze. He broke the kiss, and leaned back a little, while his hands traveled from my shoulders, along the neckband of my t-shirt and down toward my chest. Through the jersey fabric, he caressed and massaged my pecs, which were much softer and less muscular than his. He reached a finger up and hooked it into my neckline, pulling it down to expose the black dusting of chest hair. He smirked, and gave a gruff rumble of approval.
His arms wrapped around my back, his hands sliding under the hem of my tee, scooping it upwards. Giving way to instinct, I raised my arms and the t-shirt was gone in an instant.
I closed the small gap between us and kissed the gentle valley in the center of his chest, feeling the warm skin and soft filaments of hair against my lips. I kissed my way upwards along his collarbone, into the crook of his shoulder, along the thick trunk of his neck. His huge fingers traced and kneaded the lines of my back, and the pleasure of it shimmered through my body like sunlight on water.
I kissed along his jawline, our beards bristling together until my lips found his again. I kissed his bottom lip, pulling on it gently, then I kissed his top lip. His mouth fell open and his breath was warm and sweet on my face. We sealed our mouths together again, and our tongues wrestled in the vacuum.
He pulled me tightly against him. The expanding mound in the front of his underpants fit perfectly between the similar mound in my pants and the curve of from my wait to my belly. I felt waves of heat on my skin, from above the waistband of my pants where his cock hardened against me to where our torsos pressed together, hairy chest to hairy chest.
An image of velcro being pushed together popped into my mind, and I broke the kiss to chuckle. He pulled away and gave me a wry smile.
“What are you giggling at?” he asked.
My blush intensified. “Nothing… sorry…”.
He considered me for a moment and asked, “Is this okay?”
I nodded. Instead of stumbling over words, I decided to prove it was okay. I kissed him hard and hungry, and then with my hands I held him back slightly, allowing myself a moment take in this delicious sight. I splayed my hands over his blond furry chest, and as I slid them down over his belly, I leaned in to take a nipple into my mouth.
After a sharp intake of air, he groaned with pleasure. Encouraged, I went to town on that nipple with my mouth, while the fingers of one hand found the other. I put my tongue to work, pushing the tip against the firm pink button of flesh, around it, over it, and when it was slick with my spit, I let it go to blow air over it gently. Then, my mouth was back over it, sucking, nibbling, gently and carefully pulling at it with my teeth.
I swapped to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment, while my other hand gave the first nipple its due attention.
As I tongued and pinched his nipples, Callum continued to purr with pleasure while his hands roamed over my back and neck. The fingers of one hand slid into the hair at the back of my head, rubbing and caressing in encouragement.
The swirls of blond hair across his chest met and thickened in a golden thatch the stretched in a line down the center of his chest and belly, disappearing into the waistband of his underpants. Following this path of hair, I began kissing downwards, lowering myself as I went. At last, I reached the waistband, and I was completely on my knees.
My hands gripped him at the waist, and I looked up at his exquisite face, peering down at me over the fuzzy mound of his belly. A twinkle of anticipation lit his beautiful green eyes. Looking back in front of me, his y-fronts were tented tightly over his dick, straining to hold it against his body. The fabric had darkened around the tip, where he had already started leaking precum heavily.
I took in a deep breath; Callum in general smelled fresh and clean, faintly of soap, but down here where the heat of his body was focused, there was a warm, musky accent to it. Gingerly, I tilted my head and reached my tongue out towards the thick ridge pressed into the white fabric.
His dick twitched on contact, and I slowly licked my way along the fabric, following the the wide, fleshy line of his shaft. As I reached the waistband, I let go of his hips and slipped my fingers behind the elastic, shimmying the front of his underwear down. His cock sprang forth like a freed jack-in-the-box and bounced again my cheek with a soft slap. I heard him gasp with pleasure above me.
I wanted to drown my eyes in the sight of his crotch and commit it to memory, but the urge to taste him was stronger. I turned my head, trailing my thirsty tongue along the side of his cock and in a seamless movement I enveloped the head in my mouth as soon as I reached it. I held it there, captive, for a moment, and then I started probing with my tongue.
The tip of my tongue found the tip of his dick, and I gently began sweeping it in small circular motions, expanding out until I found the edge of his foreskin. It had pulled back from the tip slightly as his cock had hardened. I could feel that it was quite ample; I slid my tongue beneath it and it was still loose and elastic.
While I swirled my tongue beneath the foreskin, his whole cock throbbed with heat and stimulation. I tugged the y-fronts down to his knees and then my hands found their position at the top of his thighs. My thumbs tucked in behind his balls, and my fingers splayed themselves across the meaty mound at the base of his cock.
I pulled my head back, closing my lips tight around the crown of his dick, and then, with a deep breath through the nose, I plunged my face deep into the golden yellow forest of his pubes. With my nose flattened against him, and his cock pressing at the back of my throat, a sensual wave of bliss spread throughout my body. I felt the rumble of his moan more than heard it, and I drew back on his cock. I lashed my tongue around it as I went, and towards the end, I pressed my lips together tightly, pulling the foreskin around the fat head of his dick and beyond.
I kept sucking his delectable cock, finding a rhythm. Working the tip and foreskin with my tongue and lips before swallowing him whole, all the way to the hilt, bouncing the throbbing head against the back of my throat. His hands swarmed my head and shoulders, caressing me tenderly. He would press his hands firmly against the back of my head when I would plunge down on him; it wasn’t aggressive, but there was a firm insistence to the gesture that I found extremely pleasurable. Every now and then I would turn my attention to his balls, licking and lathering them with my tongue while I jerked him off with a firm grip, before returning his drooling cock to my mouth.
Time meant nothing to me; my mind was empty of any intelligible thought and was filled only with the intoxicating desire that my senses were experiencing; the sounds of his gravelly sighs of pleasure, the pulsing heat of his body against my face, the viscous wetness of his precum slicked over my tongue. I could have been blowing him for hours and hours and it wouldn’t have been enough.
At some point he pulled me up to my feet and kissed me with urgency, his hungry tongue writhing against mine, tasting himself in my mouth. We came up for air, and he closed me in a bear hug. I sighed breathlessly into the scoop of his neck, and snaked my arms around him in return.
I felt the huge barrel of his chest rise as he caught his breath, and with a chuckle, he crooned into my ear.
“Shall we take this to the bedroom?”
I leaned back to look him in the eyes. His cheeks had flushed a darker pink and his crystal green eyes were bright and sparkled with excitement. I gave him a dazed smile and nodded.
He stepped out of his tighty-whities which had fallen to his ankles, took my hand and towed me into the hallway. I realized dizzily that in the mirrored floorpans of our apartments, his bedroom corresponded with mine, and I followed him with a hazy sense of a familiarity.
In his bedroom, at the foot of the bed, he turned and took my face in his hands, planting a firm, warm kiss on my lips. His big hands slid across my shoulder and down my arms heavily, and the weight of his palms against my skin somehow made me feel a sense of safety and security.
He took a step back, looking me up and down slowly as if he were considering a painting in a gallery. Gazing back at this furry mountain of a man before me, I started to feel my insecurities creep back into my mind and, feeling exposed and suddenly unsure, my brow began to furrow.
As if reading my face like a book, he clamped his hands to my hips and with a wide grin he said “James, you’re absolutely gorgeous.”
I sucked in a breath and bit my lip, my mind scrambling to process his statement and put into words my own gushing compliments. I understood why my imagination had failed him; he was beyond my wildest dreams. Brawny and muscular, but round and attractively plump. I allowed myself to lower my eyes and committed the sight of Callum’s junk to memory.
His cock was perfection. It was not especially long, just right—long enough that I could choke on it if I really swallowed deep and it was thick. Between his throbbing erection and my enthusiastic sucking, the foreskin had settled into the trough behind the coronal ridge, revealing a fat, purple-pink head that was squarish at the tip and flared at the ridge giving it a stout bell shape. The shaft had an upward curve, and the silky pale skin stretched around thick, veiny ridges.
His eyes narrow humorously. “I think we can do away with these,” he purred as he tucked his thumbs into the waistband of my underpants. He stooped and tugged down, and in an instant my boxers and sweatpants were around my ankles.
Finally, we were both naked. I wriggled my feet out of my loafers and stepped out of the pile of fabric and into Callum’s arms. Our leaking cocks throbbed against each other, and I felt his comfortable, rolling heat along the length of my body. We stood there for a few moments, kissing long and slow.
Callum eased out of the embrace and, pressing on my shoulders, guided me into a sitting position on the end of the bed. He kissed his way down from my mouth, into the black hair that dusted my chest and belly, widest over my pecs and narrowing to a treasure trail at my navel before connecting to dark pubes. Like I had done for him, he followed the path of my hair all the way down to my lap.
I widened my legs and leaned back on my elbows as he kneeled before me. With a look of concentration, he stuck his tongue out and dexterously scooped up a bead of precum from the tip of my cock into his mouth. A filmy string stretched from the slit to his lip, and hung in the air as he savored the taste for a moment.
Then, he took my dick into his mouth and buried his nose deep into my pubes. Slowly he began sliding his mouth back and forth along the shaft, expertly working the head with his tongue as he went. I gave a shuddering exhalation of pleasure, as Callum wrapped one hand around my ball sack and the base of my dick, and sent the other hand exploring my belly and chest.
My nervous system seemed to be thrumming with electricity as this gentle giant of a man lashed my cock and nuts with his tireless tongue, kneading my taint and thighs with one huge hand while the other caressed and massaged my torso tenderly.
Suddenly, he retracted his hands from my belly and cock and, sliding them under my thighs and along to my knees, he hitched up my legs. My elbows gave way, and I felt my ass roll upwards as he pushed my thighs back towards me. I gasped with delight as I felt his warm wet tongue in the cleft between my butt cheeks.
He lapped at my ass crack, pushing in a little further each time. I reached down and clutched at my buttocks, pulling them open so he could wedge his huge, square, bearded jaw deeper between them. Callum’s tongue found my twitching, eager hole, and for a few moments he teased it, licking and pressing at it. Then, with another tender yet insistent push on my thighs, he plunged his tongue inside me, sending my eyes rolling back in their sockets with ecstasy.
In a mindless attempt to welcome him deeper into me, my hands flew to my thighs, pulling them as close to my body as possible, my belly heaving between them with gasping, moaning breaths. Leaving them in my desperate, yearning grasp, Callum let go of my legs and I felt his thick, strong fingers splayed across each of my ass cheeks. I could hear his snuffling breaths as he hungrily ate my hole, stabbing his tongue as far into me as possible.
The moment expanded into forever as he tongue fucked me, accompanied by a soundtrack of his huffing, grunting breaths and my gasps and moans of exquisite pleasure.
Finally, he came up for air. I looked down past my belly, between my legs to see his blushing, handsome face, his beard ruffled and damp with his ass-eating slobber and his eyes glowing with mischief. My ass clenched tight at the unbearable sexiness of the sight.
I pulled myself upright and we stood up together, and we kissed deeply and hungrily. While our lips locked together and our tongues lapped at each other, I reached a hand down to his thick, fat dick. I hooked two fingers around the throbbing head, holding it steady between my knuckles, and I began to massage the tip and foreskin with the pad of my thumb in smooth, circular motions. He was really leaking precum now; I felt a tiny drop of it land on the top of my foot.
Callum’s fingers clutched the hair at the back of my head, and he looked me deep in the eyes, and I almost felt his unfathomable emerald gaze physically boring into me.
“James…” he gasped as a look of insatiable eagerness blossomed across his face.
I wanted to tell him that he was the single most exquisite human being I had ever laid eyes on, that our conversations had become the highlights of my weeks, and that touching him, feeling him against me, inside me, was more than I ever dared could come true. But my mind and body were overcome with an instinctual desire, an unquenchable appetite that short circuited any ability I had to string a sentence together.
I kissed him again, hard, and then I climbed back onto the bed. I lay on my back, flopped my head over the edge, the weight of my head pulling my mouth wide open. I reached out my arms towards his furry thighs, but he didn’t need the hint. He stepped towards me, reached down with one hand and slapped his fat, precum-oozing cock against my cheeks a few times. His nutsack hung low, covered with a peach fuzz of white-blond hairs, and it swung against my face as he whacked his thick, meaty dong against my face.
Finally, he lined up his cock and thrust it deep into my throat. In that position, it went much deeper than before, and I gagged. He pulled back slightly, worried that he’d gone too far, but my hands glided over the back of his thighs and pulled him as far down my throat as he would go. He gave a guttural sigh, and began pumping his throbbing cock in and out my mouth. His reached out and laid his hands on my chest to brace himself, and once he found his rhythm he began teasing my nipples, twisting them firmly but carefully between his fingers.
My hands climbed their way up his thighs to his plump, round ass cheeks. I squeezed and kneaded them, encouraging him as he continued to fuck my face. Gradually, he picked up the cadence of his thrusts, and before long he was pounding his cock down my throat heavily and quickly. Occasionally, I would gag on the drooling, purple head and he would ease back long enough for me to catch a few spluttering breaths before he resumed driving himself into my mouth over and over. His huge heavy nuts slapped against my face, and I felt the soft, portly curve of his belly on my chin.
I was in heaven, choking on this exquisite man’s perfect dick, feeling his warm, reassuring hands on my chest and nipples. With each heaving thrust of his cock down my throat, I felt my own dick slap wetly against my belly, forming a gluey puddle of precum slicking down the straight dark hairs of my treasure trail.
He let go of my nipples and stood, and through my hands and mouth I felt the tautening of his body.
He took his cock out of my mouth and began jerking it. I stuck my tongue out and as he wanked he would slap the head again my cheeks and my tongue.
“James… fuck, James! I’m gonna cum!”
I moaned my thirst for his seed… “Yes!” I growled; the first word I’d managed since this incredible fever dream came began coming true.
Rope after rope of thick, white cum spurted through the air between us and splattered against my face. I felt the wet warm ooze over my chin, lips, and cheeks. Before I could lap my tongue around to gather up as much of the jizz as possible, Callum slide his pulsing, twitching dick back into my mouth. His balls were still pumping cream out of his dick-slit, no longer in forceful ropes but in goopy undulations, like the bubbling source of a spring in slow motion. Greedily, I swallowed it all until there was none left, and the back of my tongue and throat was lined in a fine film of cum.
He stood back and stretched his body, as I contentedly shepherded as much of his creamy mess off of my cheeks and chin and into my mouth with my tongue as I could. He laid a hand on my outstretched neck and leaned down to touch his lips to mine. The urgency had gone from his body, the tension released, and these kisses were warm and affectionate.
He walked around the side of the bed, and got onto it, laid on his side, propped up on one elbow. I sat up and he beckoned me to come lay with him. Crawling towards him, he guided me onto my back, with my head on the pillow. He began kissing me again, while his hand caressed my cheek, meandered down my jaw, my neck, and onto my chest. His fingers swirled around my nipple for a moment, then continued lower, his fingertips brushing gently at my body hair as it went.
He found the wet patch on my belly where my still leaking cockhead had rested and scooped up some precum on his finger. He paused his kissing to offer his fingertips to me. I parted my lips and his fingers slid in, feeding me my own precum. I sucked and licked his fingers hungrily, my skin vibrating with the pleasure of having any part of him inside me.
He removed his fingers and resumed kissing me slowly, sighing contently. Reaching down again, his hand found my cock and he began to jack me in long, calm strokes. His hand caressed the shaft of my dick all the way down to my balls, which he scooped up and rolled around in his palm for a bit. They were full and aching, and my cock twitched in anticipation of what he might do next. I drew my legs up slightly as he began to massage my taint.
My body stretched and lengthened with that electric urge to climax, amplified wherever his body pressed up against mine. He kissed along my jawline towards my ear and his hand found my asscrack. I rolled my hips forward and drew my legs back further, his breath in my ear causing every hair on my body to prickle with goosebumps.
All at once, Callum plunged his tongue into the whorl of my ear and a few fingers into my asshole. The sensation was beyond any pleasure I’d experienced up until that point. His warm wet tongue and huffing, growling breath in my ear scrambled my brain as a wave of cold heat cascaded through my body. The probing, massaging fingers thrusting inside my hungry hole was more than I could bear.
As I howled with primal euphoria, Callum thrashed his tongue around the bowl of my ear with renewed fervor, and finger-fucked my ass with such gusto that it felt like his fingers were inhumanly long.
My cock exploded with cum, sending thick swirling jets through the air. The first spurt hit my chin while the rest splattered thickly across my chest and belly.
Callum withdrew his tongue from my ear and his fingers lay still, though still buried deep in my hole. He gaped at me with startled satisfaction as I caught my breath. I gasped for air for what seemed like an eternity, my body continued to contract with aftershocks of the most intense orgasm I’d ever had.
As I relaxed into the warm afterglow, I gazed into his face. The smile he gave me was equal parts affection and mischief. I sighed as his fingers left my hole. He began scooping up the mess of our jizz from my belly, chest and face, tracing my lips with his fingertips, leaving them glossy with cum, before popping them into my parted lips as I dutifully sucked them clean.
“…Wow…” I gasped, and he kissed me with such tender affection that I could almost have cried.
* * *
We spent the rest of the morning in Callum’s bed, limbs tangled, kissing, chatting. Hunger eventually lured us out of his bedroom, and while he cooked up some late breakfast, I slipped my clothes back on and dashed through the gap in the fence to fetch my phone.
Alexis had messaged, saying that her hotel booking was extended to Monday at least, and then she’d decide what to do depending on whether the roads were opened by then.
Callum and I spent the rest of the weekend at his place. At the most we wore underwear, but mostly we stayed naked and close together. We read books, watched movies, chatted for hours at a time, and blew more than a few loads.
When Alexis returned, I didn’t give her details, but I told her that Callum and I had hung out over the weekend and I was really into him. She was incredulous at first but happy for me, and after I invited him over for dinner one evening (he wore clothes), they clicked and became sure friends in their own right.
We never repaired the gap in the fence while we lived in opposite each other and we would come and go from each others’ houses. I spent more and more time at Callum’s.
The time came when Alexis announced that she was moving in with her boyfriend and we had to decide what to do with the lease. To Callum, it was a no-brainer. We would see the lease out and then I would move in with him.
We had the fence repaired, and after the shortest, easiest house move I’d ever done, I began to settle into my new home with the love of my life. That night, Callum and I celebrated with a takeout dinner, curled up together on the sofa. Slipping my hand into the front of his white briefs, I told him I wanted dessert, and he was only too happy to oblige.