“J” sent some ideas surrounding the character of an exhibitionist. As before, I took a lot of liberities with his suggestions and certain aspects of the story’s scenarios, but I trust that once all is said and done, the basic concepts are held in place. “J”, I hope you like this reimagining of your ideas.
Sam walked down the ramp of the moving truck, caring two more boxes, one stacked on top of the other. He walked up the narrow drive, one that barely fit between his new home and the one under construction to his right. At the end of the drive, he entered the mudroom through the side door. He went through the room, looking at the washer and dryer that needed to be hooked up, reminding him of all that still needed to be done, and into the kitchen setting the two boxes on the countertop. He looked across the living room to the back of the house, where it opened to a deck that stepped down to a small yard. He pictured a grilling area along the back side of the deck to the right of the steps down to the yard. Then his eyes came back into the room, realizing he needed to focus on getting moved in first at the sight of so many boxes stacked in the room.
The street out front was a new cut through, made on a parcel that had been one of the first lots in the old neighborhood, one that was two acres in size, cutting from Magnolia Hill Drive all the way back to Hillcrest Lane. The name Red Oak Lane had been given to the short street, one now lined with zero-lot line properties running front to back all facing it. There were four houses finished, Sam’s the last of them, and below him was six more underway. The houses were close together and Sam wondered how it would be to have the neighbor’s windows seemingly right outside his own. He looked at the window in the kitchen and how he could see into the house next door, with its unfinished walls and wires hanging out of junction boxes.
Looking across the room, he could look out a living room window in the side wall straight into the living room of the next house. He saw the contemporary furniture, the low sofa with large cushions along its length, the lounge chairs in black leather either side of it, and the large flat screen mounted on the wall. There was one large painting on the far wall and a sculpture sitting to one side, abstract in form, but it reminded Sam of a male body. He wondered who lived next door, remembering the house was closing when he had been to look at his for the first time. He never saw the owner but knew their closeness would prevent them from staying strangers. He would see him sooner or later.
A quick drink of water, and a piss in the half-bath off the entry foyer, Sam headed out to continue unloading the moving van.
Back and legs hurting, and despite keeping a water bottle close, Sam was still thirsty, knowing it was the constant sweating. He climbed the ramp for the last time to get two paintings at the back of the van. Carefully wrapped in brown paper, they were secured to the back wall. One was an old piece, painted by his great-grandmother when she lived in France as a young girl. The other was a piece he purchased at a charity fundraiser that was the most vivid, colorful piece he owned. Where the other paintings and photographs would be hung, he was not sure, but these two would be in the living room.
Paintings in hand, Sam eased down the ramp and to the sidewalk leading to the front door where he could set them down in the dining room at the front of the house. He was on the steps when a car pulled into the drive next door. Even with only a glimpse of the silver sedan, he knew it was an Audi. Later, he would find out it was a S6, a model he had looked at but couldn’t handle the payments. He had gone back to another GTI, this time red instead of his usual black.
As he crossed the porch, he heard the door close on the car, a quick beep, then a man’s voice, obviously talking on his cellphone. The voice was deep, masculine, and he wondered what his new neighbor, who he was and more importantly, how he looked.
Paintings leaned against a wall, Sam went around his house closing the sliding doors to the rear yard, the door off the mudroom, then headed toward the front door. He wanted the van returned before the rental store closed. It would be a relief not to see the bright yellow truck in front of his house. He wanted his car in the drive and the house to look like the others. The sense of someone settled in, despite the chaos inside.
As he walked from the sliding doors across the living room, he saw movement next door and looked in time to see his neighbor shed his shirt, tossing it over the back of the sofa. Sam stumbled, nearly tripping, as he looked at the bare upper body.
“Fuck,” he whispered, as he looked at the muscular body, arms bulging, chest cut and curved with its muscular form, and the waist that narrowed, disappearing into the dress pants. The guy turned, and Sam stared at the round ass filling out the pants. “Fuck,” he whispered again, standing in the middle of his living room just staring through the windows. Finally letting his eyes move upward as the guy picked up a remote and aimed it the flat screen television, he looked at the face with its high cheek bones, strong nose and jaw. The short dirty blonde hair revealed the shape of his head, with its perfect hairline and perfect upright position on the neck. There was no slouching posture, no roughness in appearance, instead the guy was perfect to his way of thinking.
Sam stood there, staring, when the guy seemed to realize it and turned toward him. A smile and a friendly wave, and Sam suddenly realized he had been staring too long. He waved back, then headed to the front door.
It was just after dark, pizza box sitting on the counter to be discarded. He was upstairs standing in the shower letting the hot water cascade down his tired, sore body. When he finally stepped out of the shower, he felt a tiredness not felt in a long time. It had been the night after 3 days on a trail, backpacking with friends, he last felt this tired.
Without thinking about his windows being open, he walked naked to the middle bedroom where boxes were stacked. After moving a couple of boxes, he found the one with his undergarments, and dug out a pair of boxers. He looked up, sensing movement in the window across the narrow side yard. His window looked into the hall of the other house, which was like his own, running along the exterior wall connecting the three bedrooms and the bathroom of the second floor. It appeared empty, and he assumed it was some reflection in the glass that had captured his eye.
Boxers and an old t-shirt slipped on, he went back downstairs, pulled a beer from the frig and dropped down on his sofa. He looked at the reflective black glass of his television, wondering when the cable company would finally arrive to hook it up. It was Friday night, and it would be sometime Monday before they would come out. He found himself relaxing, despite the disarray around him. The kitchen light was on, and one lamp on the side table to his right, leaving the living room dimly lit, the corners in shadow.
Leaned back, taking one slow sip after the next, Sam found himself unable to focus on any one thought. He was too tired. Once he finished the beer, he was going to shut off the lights, go back upstairs and get in bed. He angled the bottle up to his lips, when he saw a change in lights next door. The kitchen light went out and the living room was dimly illuminated much like his own, with two lamps either side of the sofa. He looked at the neat living room and felt the need to get his own house in order as soon as possible. He had the weekend and Monday before he had to be back at work. Then he saw his neighbor come into room, naked, not a stitch of clothing on.
Sam choked on his beer and sat up, wondering how the guy could be so bold. Unable to look away, he watched the guy move around an end table, letting him see the round ass and muscular legs, all perfectly proportioned for the upper body. He thought of Demuth’s watercolors, Mapplethorpe’s photography, and, of course, Michelangelo’s David. The guy sat down, legs stretched out in front of him, and Sam looked at the cock just visible over the right thigh. The uncut cock lay heavily over its sac. He didn’t know where to focus, eyes going from the cock, then down the long legs, then back to the head in perfect profile, then the flexing arms…then back to the cock. He felt his heart race and his lusts, his desires for another man well up. His cock stirred within the loose boxers, and he absentmindedly toyed with it as he watched his naked neighbor do something so mundane as watch television. What was on, he’d never know. He didn’t think about what he was doing. His fingers touched bare cock, slipped it through the large fly, then slowly stroked it, as he watched his neighbor just sitting there.
Cum hit Sam in the face, then sprayed his t-shirt, and he suddenly realized he too was exposed, and exposed jacking off. He looked at the neighbor still focused on the television, shut off his lamp to conceal himself, then raced out of the room and up the stair.
He wiped off, tossed the cum stained t-shirt and boxers on the floor, and crawled into bed. The windows of the room looked out over the rear yard and the house on the opposite side. His closet sat along the wall shared with his neighbor, and he felt relieved that his bedroom was this refuge; a place he would not be tempted to look across at his neighbor at every available opportunity. Then he remembered how the balcony gave a perfect view into the neighbor’s rear yard and the hot tub sitting on the deck. ‘Would he use the tub without clothing?’ he wondered as he lay in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. After a long time, unable to fall asleep, he debated whether to get blinds or curtains for his windows. He needed to put something up, for it was obvious his neighbor didn’t appear to be concerned about it.
It was nearly ten the next morning before Sam finally made it downstairs, dressed in a ratty old t-shirt and jeans so worn and frayed, he would only wear them around the house. He went into the kitchen, started a pot of coffee, and set to work unboxing the items that belonged in the kitchen. He worked diligently, head bobbing to the songs playing over his sound system, emptying one box after the next. A stack of folded boxes rose higher and higher until it toppled over.
Sam picked up an armload of boxes and headed to the front door, where he was going to stack them up on the porch. Near the end of the day, he would take them to a recycling center the city had set up in town. He made two trips and was coming out with another armload when he saw the neighbor coming down the sidewalk, then turn up his walk. Dressed in a tank top and cargo shorts, loose fitting on his muscular frame, as if he could slip out of the garments at a moment’s notice.
“Hey, you getting moved in okay?” the guy said as he came up the steps.
“Slowly,” Sam replied.
“I’m Roman Eriksson from next door.”
“I recognize you. I’m Sam Becker.”
“Sam, glad to meet you. Is it just you, or is there a wife, girlfriend, or…?”
“No, just me. And you?”
“I’m single,” Roman replied, smiling in a way that rattled Sam.
“How long have you been in your house?”
“Two weeks; long enough to get rid of the boxes.”
“I hope I’ve gotten rid of mine in two weeks.”
“Well, good luck with it. I took a week off just to get everything unpacked.”
“I only took a couple of days around this weekend, so I’ll be pushed to get it done.”
“Don’t let me hold you up. I’m heading to the grocery store. Do you need anything?”
“Not at the moment. I’ll go once the kitchen is set up and doesn’t have boxes sitting everywhere.”
“Once you get settled, I’ll have you over for a beer or maybe we can cook out.”
“Sound nice.”
“I’ll see ya around,” said Roman, then descended the steps to the walk and returned to his house, going up the drive. Sam heard the beep of the Audi as Roman unlocked it, then he went back inside wondering how he was going to control himself around such a fine specimen of masculinity. He imagined all sorts of scenarios where he flirted with Roman, each one more ludicrous than the last.
Sam was yet again exhausted at the end of another long day. It was already dark out when he finally quit for dinner, a ham sandwich and chips while sitting on the deck staring mindlessly across the rear yard. He could hear the sound of an occasional car nearby, but mostly it was the sound of insects. The buzz and chirps coming from the perimeter of the yard, concealed in the black shadows. There were also flashes of light from fireflies.
Back inside, he set his plate and glass in the dishwasher and headed upstairs to take a shower.
Sam slipped on boxers and a tank top, one loose fitting, comfortable for lounging around in. He started to go back down but stopped at the top of the stair trying to remind himself what was left to do in the two guest bedrooms. He had the furniture set in place, extra bedding in the chest of drawers and sitting on the floor of the closets, boxes of his winter clothes and some miscellaneous items he was going to store in them. He went into the first bedroom, the one in the middle of the house. Not bothering with turning on the lamps, he stood in the middle of the room noting he still had to hang curtains or blinds, and the artwork leaning against the wall. He was about to head to the front bedroom when he saw movement through the window.
Looking through his window, into the hall of Roman’s house, he saw him pass the last window of the hall, with his upper body bare. Sam stood at the window looking through the window at the stair landing. Feet came into view, then legs, then the cock and balls, followed by the torso and finally Roman’s head. Naked, which Sam began to realize was the norm for Roman in the evening.
Sam skipped the front bedroom, instead racing down the stair to his living room in time to see Roman go through the sliding doors to the rear deck.
He’s going outside like that? Sam thought as he moved to his own sliding doors, tempted to go out and try to see over the fence. Then he remembered his balcony had a perfect view, and he raced back up the stair.
Sam kept the lights out in his bedroom and on the balcony. He moved through the dark room, eased the door open and stepped out on the balcony. He moved to the corner into the darkest shadow and looked down at Roman in his hot tub. The swirling waters concealed what was within, but the upper body was in view. The broad muscular shoulders and arms that lay on the side of the hot tub. Roman leaned back, head resting on the side of the hot tub, and let his body float upward. Cock broke the swirling surface like some snake, wiggling back and forth in the current. Sam couldn’t take his eyes off of it as Roman floated up, then down a few inches, letting his cock sink below the surface, then reemerge again. Each time, the cock seemed larger, and Sam felt his own pushing at the front of boxers.
Roman floated upward again, and this time Sam knew he was getting an erection. It was much longer, the shaft twice as thick, and the head was slipping free. Roman reached down and stroked it slowly, pulling the foreskin back, revealing the whole head.
Sam fumbled with his own, working it out of the confining boxers.
Roman stroked his cock, pushed upward with his hips, then sank down below the surface.
Sam used his other hand to clumsily work his boxers down, struggling to get his cock back through the fly. Finally, the boxers fell around his ankles, and he stepped out of them with the left foot and kicked with his right foot to be free of them. He kicked too hard, and the boxers sailed off the balcony and down to the deck below.
Roman thought he saw movement and twisted his head around looking toward Sam’s place. He looked along the top of the fence, then toward the balcony. He saw Sam in the corner, cock just in the light with a hand moving over it. He smiled, then turned back around. He raised his hips, bringing his cock back into view. He stroked it, pulling the foreskin back revealing the shiny wet head.
It aroused Roman to know he was being watched. It was something he discovered his senior year of high school, when the Redding boy next door would sit in his old treehouse and watch him. Curtis never spoke to him at school, the two of them in different cliques, even though they were both seniors and eventually lived next door to each other.
At first, it embarrassed him, made him rush from his bedroom when first discovered, but over time he grew bolder, leaving the curtains pulled open, then in the fall and winter, when home from college, and Curtis still living with his parents while attending a local college, he became even bolder. He left the lights on, curtains wide open, and paraded around his room naked. Eventually he sat his desk chair watching porn and jerked off, or when just the idea of Curtis watching him was enough, he lay on his bed, fully exposed, and stroked his cock until cum covered him from face to stomach. A year later, he let Curtis see him wipe it up with his fingers and eat it.
And he knew it got to Curtis, pushed him to the point of breaking him. Curtis stammered and stuttered when they passed each other, and for the longest time, could barely look him in the face. But he went too far, pushed Curtis to reveal more of himself than he was ready, and he regretted it.
He was rolling his bike down the drive, ready to take a ride, when Curtis came into view doing the same. For a moment, they stared at each other, then both laughed. Roman asked if he wanted to ride with him, and he led Curtis through town out to the park on the west side of town. It was one of the largest, with much of the south having a few bike trails within the mostly undisturbed woodland. They rode hard to the park, then slowed to a casual pace, riding side by side. They were in the woods when Roman asked Curtis if he liked watching him. Curtis had nearly taken a spill, but once recovered, he slowly, after some encouragement, admitted how he did like watching. They were in the most isolated place when Roman asked him if he wanted to watch him do it now.
A little prodding, and Roman had Curtis leaning against one tree, while he leaned against another, completely naked, the rough bark digging into his back. He was half-hard just thinking about Curtis watching him, and he took himself in hand. He stroked his cock until it was fully erect, the head exposed, leaking until drooling all the way to the ground. He asked Curtis if he wanted to touch it and saw the nod of the head, then Curtis crossing the short distance between them. A tentative hand reached out and took his cock, and he thought he would come in that instance. But Curtis was too nervous, his rhythm off, and it allowed him to calm down and enjoy the feel of another’s hand. He had reached out and felt Curtis’ erection, asking him if he could take it out. Again, he got a slow nod of the head. Soon, he had Curtis stripped at the waist, jeans and boxers around his ankles, with the two of them stroking the other. Roman wanted to suck Curtis’ cock, wanted to feel what it was like to take it in his mouth, but he wanted it to be mutual, and felt he had to get Curtis to go first. He hinted at it, then pushed Curtis to do it, with promises of him reciprocating. Eventually he was leaned back against the tree with his cock buried in Curtis’ mouth. It didn’t take long, only a few short minutes, and Curtis was choking on his load. When he was spent, he helped Curtis to stand, intent on sucking him, but he saw the look and knew something was wrong. Curtis pulled his boxers and jeans up, struggling to get them in place, then he raced over to his bike and was gone before Roman could get dressed.
Curtis was never in the treehouse again and refused to talk to him. He eventually gave up, leaving a note to Curtis apologizing for pushing him too far. Then he went back to college for his junior year, looking for other outlets that let him explore his fetish to be exposed to another man. There was a park on campus that after dark afforded him some opportunities, but the lack of control of his surroundings after what happened with Curtis, took some of the pleasure out of it. In his senior year, he had a dormmate who was painfully shy. Ryan was also gay, something he found out by accident one night when Ryan went into the bathroom leaving his laptop up and open to a gay hook up site. The temptation was too great, for he already knew Ryan watched him change clothes, thinking it was more out of some admiration of his body, Ryan being somewhat skinny. With this new revelation, he paraded around their room naked, toyed with cock when he knew Ryan was watching. After only two weeks, Ryan was in his bed.
After college, living in a large apartment complex, the risks outweighed his desire to do it. He still went naked in his apartment but with the curtains closed. He lived on the courtyard side of the building and had three floors of apartments with a view into his own, and he knew most were women, not men. The chance one would complain was great, but greater still was his lack of desire to do it in front of one of them.
He was twenty-seven and finally had his own place. Yes, the side yards were ridiculously narrow, and he worried about who his neighbors would be. To his left was an accountant that traveled for weeks at the time. And to his right, Sam had moved in, and he soon realized he had the perfect situation. He knew Sam was watching him, and as he floated to the surface again, his cock so hard it ached, he knew Sam was on his balcony watching him even now. It aroused him in ways he couldn’t begin to explain.
Stroking his cock until his hand smeared the slick down it, Roman wondered how close Sam was to coming. He threw his head back and closed his eyes enough to make Sam think he was not watching but he kept them open enough to allow him to do so. He watched the corner of the balcony next door, the shift in the darkness, then the white cock come into the light. Cum spewed from his cock, raining down on his chest and stomach. He shuddered with his release, hips pumping upward with each ejaculation. He even let a grunt and moan escape loud enough for Sam to hear.
Sam watched Roman float to the surface again, cock hovering over his flat stomach. He watched as Roman took it in hand, stroking with greater enthusiasm, and it stroked his own arousal. His hand moved slickly along his cock, and he fought the urge to move his hips, one he would soon lose. As Roman became more animated, hips pumping up and down, he lost the control to hold back and began to pump his own hips as he stroked faster. When Roman came, cum spattering chest and stomach, it was too much. He thrust his hips forward, pushing his cock through the tight fist as he slammed it down to the base of his cock. A few more times, and he came too, spraying cum across the railing and balcony.
That night Sam lay on his sofa, music playing, and watched Roman move about in his own house. Naked, flaccid cock flopping around with his movements, and Sam watched his every move. When he went into his kitchen and got a beer. When he moved into the living room and sat in one of the lounge chairs, leaned back and footrest coming upward. Sprawled out naked, Roman left nothing to Sam’s imagination. Sam lay still, his own living room dark, concealing him, while Roman watched a couple of television shows. When the local news came on, Roman switched the television off and headed upstairs for bed. Sam waited for a few minutes, then did the same. He struggled to fall asleep, staring out the windows to the balcony. I’ve got to get blinds for these windows, he thought for the hundredth time, telling himself to go the next day and get them.
Sam woke Sunday morning to find it raining. Had the weather predicted rain he wondered, then realized he had not bothered to check the weather report, much less the news for a few days. He had been too busy getting moved, and he wouldn’t have cable until the next day, if he was lucky. He rolled out of bed, and stretched his arms up, twisting his back, stretching sore muscles. He slipped on jeans and a tank top and headed downstairs.
A second cup of coffee, music tuned to old sixties rock ‘n roll, Sam set out to unpack boxes. He set up the mudroom first, tossing the empty boxes back into the kitchen out of the way. He moved back into the kitchen and had it finished by noon. After a ham sandwich and drink, he moved around the first floor, setting art pieces along the wall where he wanted them hung. He moved one group of photographs from the foyer to a wall in the living room, replacing them with a painting of a nude male. He had always kept the painting in the bedroom at his apartment, but now, it seemed it should be moved to a more prominent place in his home. Once he was finished unpacking boxes, he would get everything hung.
Upstairs he started in the front two bedrooms, moving from one to the next, then the guest bathroom. In the hall, he set photographs along the wall where he wanted them hung. These were family shots, some going back to reproductions from tin plates. When he finally stepped into his bedroom, he felt how close he was to getting all the boxes emptied.
Sam worked diligently, stacking the folded boxes on the floor as he emptied them. He didn’t notice how the sunlight moved across the room, from the west side to the east side as the sun moved across the sky. But when hunger pains, his stomach constantly growling, he finally noticed how late in the day it had gotten. He wondered about what to do for dinner, not wanting another sandwich, but also not wanting to mess up his kitchen after he had just gotten it set up that morning. There was a Vietnamese restaurant a mile away, and even closer, two Mexican restaurants, a diner and three fast food joints. The latter were not appealing, but the diner or the Vietnamese place did seem like good bets. He ambled down the stair realizing he had not looked over at Roman’s place during the day to see what he was doing. He wondered if Roman was even home, knowing he would have looked if he had seen some movement next door.
In the kitchen, Sam grabbed up his keys and wallet, then headed to the mudroom, when the doorbell rang. At the front door, he found Roman standing on his porch.
“Hey, what’s up?” Sam asked, eyes scanning the person before him. The tank top that concealed so little of the body, the jeans that hung low and were worn and frayed, the crotch almost white where the cock lay.
Roman smiled and stepped up closer. “I was wondering if you had dinner.”
“I was just heading out to grab something.”
“You want to go with me. I’m going to the Vietnamese place that is close by.”
“I saw it and was thinking about going there.”
“Well, come on, let’s go together.”
It was dark by the time Roman pulled back into his drive. Sam felt more relaxed around him after spending dinner together talking about their lives. All through dinner, they circled around their sexuality, neither going into any details about this aspect of their life. For Sam, to do so would open himself up to a conversation with Roman that he feared would be too revealing.
“I’ve not seen your television on. Are you still waiting on cable to get hooked up?” asked Roman.
The question admitted so much. Roman had been looking into his place, just as he had looked into Roman’s. Roman had noticed his television had been black since moving in. He wondered what else Roman had noticed.
“Yes, but it is supposed to be hooked up tomorrow.”
“You want to come over and watch a movie? There is one on I want to watch.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“And I’ve got this great beer from that microbrewer from over in the Thomasville neighborhood.”
Sam followed Roman into his house and saw his impressions from looking through windows was not wrong. There was a starkness to the place. Paintings and a large photograph strategically positioned on each wall. There were large sections left blank, adding to each piece’s presence in the rooms. Instead of white, the baseboards and crown moldings were black, contrasting sharply with the white walls.
“Grab a seat and I’ll pour us a beer,” said Roman angling off into the kitchen.
Sam moved into the living room and wondered where he should sit. One of the lounge chairs either side of the sofa, or on the sofa itself. He chose the sofa, taking the end near the lounge chair he had seen Roman sit in the night before.
Roman came into the room and handed Sam a beer, sitting the other on the end table between him and the lounge chair.
“Hey, I’m going to change into something more comfortable. I hate been confined in a bunch of clothing,” said Roman, moving around the lounge chair and along the back of the sofa.
“Okay,” Sam replied not looking around, wondering how much less dressed Roman could get. He would soon know.
Sam turned on the television, grateful it wasn’t still on the porn site, but back on a television channel. He heard Roman stirring behind him, then come into the living area, setting a bag of chips on the coffee table. Sam barely noticed the bag for all he saw was the bare upper body and gym shorts so thin and worn, the outline of Roman’s cock was visible. The shorts hung impossibly low on the waist, and Sam instantly knew it was all Roman had on.
“Hey, if you like to lounge around in a more comfortable manner, go ahead,” said Roman dropping down in the lounge chair and kicking back, feet up.
“I’m good,” Sam uttered, cutting his eyes over at the bulging gym shorts. The short legs rode up, close to the crotch and he was surprised they managed to conceal the cock within.
Roman shifted, raised a knee, then lay it back down angled outward. Sam swallowed hard as he noticed it. The head of Roman’s cock lay in view, the foreskin its only concealment. Sam tried hard not to let it get to him. But his cock stirred in the confines of his jeans, and he shifted, tugging on the legs.
“The show starts in just a few minutes,” said Roman, turning out the lamps, leaving only the television to illuminate the room. The television beamed its image out into the room, at times barely lighting them, then at other times, when the scene was daytime, the sky bright and sunny, so was the illumination of Sam and Roman.
“Okay,” Sam whispered in reply, struggling with his emotions, this desire to see the male form in all its glory. He glanced over, time and time again, each time capturing a different image. The square jawed profile of Roman’s head. The muscular shoulders. The biceps that bulged with every move. The pecs with their dime size nipples, nipples that looked to be hardening under his stare. The stomach undulating with the rippled form of muscle. The lower abdomen, the smooth skin just above the crotch, knowing pubic hair had to be just below the waistband of the gym shorts. He wanted to tell Roman to just ditch them, to stop the ruse, and expose himself. For his eyes went to the bulging form and exposed head more than any place else. But he did look down the long legs, following the shape of muscle and bone structure all the way to the bare feet. Size 12 if had to guess.
As soon as the movie started, Sam knew it and was shocked it was the one chosen by Roman. The British movie came out four years ago and he had seen it at an arthouse cinema with a couple of friends. He knew the story, a farmer’s son struggling to keep everything going while his father recovered, then a farmhand showing up to help run the farm. A story as old as any tale of man meets man.
“Have you seen this?” Roman asked in a low conspiratorial voice.
“I…uhhh…yes.”
“You like it?
“Yes…it…” Sam stammered.
The movie began and soon there was the sex scene in the trailer, then later on the first sex between the farm hand and the son. Sam squirmed as the scenes unfolded. He looked over at Roman in time to see him tug on his shorts, revealing more of his cock. Nearly every inch visible, and growing longer.
“Sam?”
“Yes?”
“You like my body?”
“…”
“You know I hate to wear clothes. Can I remove these shorts?”
“Yes.”
Sam forces himself to stare at the television, but from the corner of his eyes he can see Roman’s legs moving, the gray shorts sliding down them. He sees the shorts hanging off one foot. A twist and small kick, and they drop on the floor. Roman is naked. Naked less than three feet away and he wants to look so bad his mouth goes dry.
“Fuck, this is better,” Roman utters and Sam glances over and sees a hand rub down the chest and stomach.
“You know I like someone to look at me. It makes me…” Roman laughs in such a naughty way, Sam looks over. “It makes me an exhibitionist.”
“Yeah?”
“You’ve watched me already. Last night in the hot tub. Do you like watching?”
“No…not really.”
“No? You like to touch the person, don’t ya. To feel the warmth of their skin, the shape of their body, and…do you like to play with a man’s cock?”
“I…yes,” Sam admitted as he tugged on the front of his jeans.
Roman lay back, legs slightly spread, hands behind his head. He was teasing Sam, tempting him beyond reason, and knew it. His cock grew erect without touching it. Just the thought of Sam looking at him was enough. It grew rock hard and rolled around over his abdomen, then rose above it, hovering in the air, flexing up and down. The foreskin was long enough to keep the head hidden from view, just the very tip of it visible, the slit peaking out.
Sam tried not to openly stare, cutting his eyes over instead. But when Roman’s cock grew to its full long length, and the shaft thickened until it would fill a man’s hand, he turned and watched. He saw Roman smile, stretch his back, arcing it upward, then a slight push up with the hips, making his cock flex hard. Sam swallowed hard and manipulated his own cock within his jeans to get it into a comfortable position.
“Lose the clothes,” said Roman in a firm commanding voice.
“What?” Sam replied, breathlessly.
“You heard me. Strip.”
Sam didn’t know how to reply. Instead, he moved as if in a trance. He tugged the tank top off, laying it to one side. He undid his jeans feeling his heart race. He spread them open, then raised his hips. Boxers and jeans slid down his legs and he felt Roman’s eyes on him. He didn’t dare look back.
Each foot worked free, Sam laid the jeans and boxers on top of his tank top and sat back, his own cock angled up hard as rock. He wanted to stroke it to increase his sense of pleasure. To bring his sense of arousal to a higher level. He glanced over in time to see Roman take his own cock and slowly stroke it, pushing the skin from the head. The hand moved so slowly down the shaft it was maddening.
“Sam, come here. You want to touch me…so do it.”
Sam slipped off the sofa, down on his knees and moved to the side of the lounge chair. He reached out, hand shaking with his nervousness. He touched the stomach, feeling its firmness, the muscular nature of it. He ran his hand upward, forcing himself to wait on touching what he really wanted: the cock. He slid fingers over the firm skin, up to the left nipple and he circled it feeling the hard nub in its center.
“Yeah, play with it,” Roman whispered.
Sam knew what he wanted, and he rubbed the hard nub harder, then took it between thumb and finger and pinched down on it. Roman shuddered, moaning with the pain/pleasure of it, as he smiled with eyes closed. Sam ran his fingers across the chest, over the sternum to the left nipple. When he pinched down on it, he twisted it slightly, eliciting another moan and smile. He held to it while leaning over, bringing his mouth to the right one. He tongued it, then pressed his lips over it. Twisting the left nipple, he bit down on the right one. Roman shuddered, moaned louder, then held his head down on the nipple.
“Fuck, that’s it,” Roman uttered.
Sam bit down on it again, then he tongued it until Roman shivered and released his head. He moved up to the neck, kissing the skin and dragging his tongue over it. For him, it was all about touch. The feel of another. And Roman was letting him do it.
Sam tongued the left ear, following its curvature, then tugging on the lobe. A hand touched his cock, then rubbed over the leaking head…then slowly stroked him with the lightest touch. He shivered and fought to control himself.
Sam moved back to the chest, tongue and lips moving over the firm flesh. He continued down, this time not to be stopped. He felt the undulating surface of the stomach as it heaved up and down. He dragged his tongue over the abdomen as the cock brushed his cheek. He inhaled deeply, capturing the masculine scent of it. He rose to look at it, with the head just peeking out. He pulled the skin back revealing its round form. Then he stroked it until a bead of clear liquid pooled in the slit. He leaned to it, dragging his tongue over the slit capturing all of it. The odd sweetness of it so alluring, he put his lips the head and pushed forward. He felt the head slide over his tongue, then the loose skin, and finally the rock-hard shaft until he struggled to breathe.
Sam sucked until his jaw ached and Roman was pushing upward. They were both so aroused, cocks leaking, that nothing was in focus. The room was a blurred sphere of space that tried to contain them. Sam released the hard cock, not wanting Roman to reach release, not yet when he wanted more. He dragged his tongue over the tightened sac, feeling the large orbs shift around with his ministrations.
“Sam, sit on it,” Roman whispered.
Sam did as Roman asked. He wanted it, this other way to feel. A man’s cock penetrating him, sinking into his depths. He climbed over the prone body, knees wedged down between Roman and the arms of the chair and lowered himself onto the hard cock. He moved back and forth over it, letting it rub along his ass. When he swung backward, the cock pushed at his sac. He moved faster, letting the cock bang into it. He shuddered with the stimulation, keeping it up until his own cock drooled onto Roman’s stomach. He watched Roman drag fingers through the puddle, then smear it over the head of his cock. He shuddered and jerk with the touch. His cock was too sensitive for such manipulation, but he held as still as possible as Roman rubbed a thumb across the leaking slit and did it again.
Sam rose, hovering over Roman’s cock. He reached back and held it up and lowered his ass down to it. He pushed down on the loose skin until he could feel the bared head, and he eased down to it, letting it press against his tightness. He kept pushing down, and when Roman pushed up, he cried out at the pain of penetration. The flared head breached his tightness and bore into him. He savored the feel of it, this fullness of a man’s cock entering him. He threw his head back and let his body weight carry him down until he was seated on Roman with every inch buried inside him.
Sam opened his eyes to see Roman looking at him. He felt it, this stare at his body, then up to his face, the eyes suddenly focused on his own.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” Roman whispered.
Sam felt fingers dig into his thighs, spurning him to move. Up, then down, over and over and over, until his pace was a fuck. Fast, furious, his body moving on Roman’s cock, feeling the way it moved inside of him. The fullness of a deep penetration, then an emptiness that needed filling.
Sam fucked himself on Roman cock. Felt his opening loosen to it until he was moving easily on it. He rode Roman until his muscles burned with his exertion and his skin felt flush, burning up, almost feverish. He sweated profusely. When he leaned forward, wanting to feel Roman’s lips against his own, the intimacy of it an overwhelming sensation, sweat rained down on the prone body. He dragged a hand up the torso, rubbing his sweat into the skin making it slick. His cock moved over Roman’s stomach, leaving the skin slick with its own emissions.
The room seemed to grow hot, close in around them, and the scent of their sex filled it.
Sam sat up, then leaned back, hands resting on Roman’s knees, and he worked his hips, upward, then down. He moved with an urgency, roughly, ass smacking down on Roman’s body. His own cock flopped around, smacking wetly against his abdomen.
“Fuck…fuck…I’m going to cum,” Roman exclaimed.
Sam felt the tight hold to his thighs, the urgent push downward, then he felt the thick, long cock buried in his hole flex with release. He sat up, seated firmly on the spurting cock, and took his own in hand.
“Yeah, do it…come for me,” Roman uttered breathlessly.
A few strokes, and Sam sprayed cum over Roman, from face down to stomach. He shuddered with his release as the thick wads puddled on Roman.
Sam sensed the darkness receding. A soft light taking its place. He was warm, and comfortable, and slightly aroused with the feel of the silk bedding against his skin. There was movement next to him, a slight rocking of the bed, then he felt the weight of Roman moving over him. Chest against back, cock against ass, and Sam moved like a serpent, undulating with his awakening desires. He pushed upward with his hips, increasing the pressure on Roman’s cock. It pushed down between his cheeks, the thick cock spreading them apart. Then the head rubbed over his opening.
“Can I fuck you?” Roman asked in a soft whisper.
“Please…don’t make me beg,” Sam replied.
Sam felt the lessening weight of Roman, then the cock moved along his ass, raking wetly between his cheeks. He pushed upward when it touched his opening, desperate for the penetration.
“Please Roman…don’t…tease…me.”
The cock pressed against his tightness. Harder and harder, until Sam stretched open letting it penetrate him. It sank into his depths until Roman was once again laying heavily on top of him. Then Roman began to fuck.
Sam climbed out of Roman’s Audi, thanked him for a late breakfast, and headed back to his home. It was nearly noon, and there was art and photographs to be hung. He hoped to be done by the end of the night when it was time for bed. He had to be at work the next day and wanted to begin the day with his home all finished, or close enough, he felt a sense of accomplishment, and a sense of ownership.
It was late, nearly midnight, and Sam stood on his balcony and waited. He was stripped down to a pair of boxers, and the anticipation of events to unfold had him half hard. His cock stirred as he considered the theater of their routine. The playful act to be enacted, as it had been done over the last few months.
Sam had been in his living room, watching the naked Roman parade around next door. There were no blinds or curtains to conceal either. Roman in his nudity, or Sam with his staring eyes. When Roman was erect, his exhibition for Sam’s eyes gone on long enough to arouse him, he moved to the sliding doors and waited.
Now Sam waited, after moving upstairs to his balcony. Finally, he heard the sliding of a door next door as it opened. Roman came into view and closed the door. He moved across the deck to the back railing. It was a position that gave the most exposure. Even the neighbor on the opposite side could see him if he were home. Roman leaned back against the railing and took his cock in hand. He stroked it slowly, knowing Sam was watching. It aroused him so much, to know those dark brown eyes were looking at his body. Looking at his muscular chest, flat stomach, and his cock, that he was stroking slowly.
Sam would let him set the pace. Give him all the time he wanted for this little act. Tonight, he wanted Sam to watch him, but he also wanted Sam, naked, beneath him, giving him the pleasure he so desired. The feel of a man on top and buried within. That would be act two of tonight’s performance. He worked himself up until his hand moved slickly over his cock. He stroked faster and faster, looking up to see Sam move out of the shadows into the light. Sam was naked too, cock hard, hand stroking it. It aroused him to see this display, Sam’s own exhibition for his benefit. He began to pump his hips slightly as his arousal increased. He stroked faster and faster and knew he wouldn’t last much longer.
Heaving for breath, Roman turned toward Sam, giving him a full view of his naked body, and came. Thick wads flew upward spattering his chest and stomach, and he kept stroking his cock until spent, and cum trickled down his torso. He squeezed the last drop from his cock and licked it from his fingers while Sam watched. He dragged his fingers up his stomach and chest to capture more of his load. When he brought his hand up to lick it off, he heard Sam grunt and cry out. He licked his fingers while looking up in time to see cum rain down from the balcony.
It is an intereting challenge to take someone’s idea and recreate it into a story with my own take on it. But this will probably be the last time for a while, as I try to do those I’ve got outlined and focus on life for a bit. Having adopted another dog after losing two over the last nine months, I have a life in my care again I’m still figuring out. Some good and some bad, but all wrapped in a big loving goofy hound. But I’m not the only writer, so we all know there is plenty to keep us entertained, even if I slow down a bit.