I'm a 26 year old, fairly good-looking and masculine man who developed such an intense crush on a stud police officer and neighbor of mine. This neighbor, James, lives three houses down, across the street with his attractive, blonde girlfriend and cute lab puppy. He is a young officer in our local town's force and also coached the local Babe Ruth baseball.
Unfortunately, he hadn't been living in town when I was on the team. I would have creamed in my pants if I got to practice on the field with this stud. He moved in about the same time I went off to college, so I never really had any neighbor dealings with him. But I'd see him drive by in his squad car, stopping off at his house for lunch, and, who knows, maybe a quickie fuck with the girlfriend. I'd peek out my window and salivate as he'd get out of his car and walk into his nicely kept, Colonial style house.
He fills out his uniform to perfection: nice strong pecs bulging beneath his crisp light blue shirt, complemented with a nice bulge protruding below the navy blue slacks. I like his ass too, solid, not exactly a bubble butt, but nice to look at. He has a wiry, sturdy, almost lanky physique, probably about 6 foot and 180 lbs. His dark hair is wavy and very thick. His skin is light, maybe he has an Irish or Scottish background. His face is one of those that gets voted "Class Heartbreaker," just a cute, boyishly handsome mug.
Some days when I'd be walking my dog, I'd pass him cutting his grass and I'd get to see him up close, wearing jeans and a t-shirt. I'd sneak a look at his body and my heart would skip a beat or two. In fact, it almost collapsed when our eyes met on one such occasion for the first time.
"Hi," I said over the din of the motor and waved as he continued to manicure his perfect lawn. He gave a neighborly nod and slight smile. I hoped he didn't notice how hot I was for him. I was shocked to see he had stopped his motor and started to walk towards me.
"Hey, I heard a lot about you, you're John, right?" he inquired.
"Uh, yeah, how goes it, man," as I shook his offered, sturdy hand.
"Alright, I'm James. I been coaching a Babe Ruth team and I see the trophies in the clubhouse with your name on most of them."
I was flattered he knew my reputation; I had the record for the most home runs out of anybody in the history of the town's league, started in 1929. But I hadn't played ball in years. "Yeah, that was some time ago, though."
"Listen, I'm pretty busy and could use an assistant coach. Some of the guys need extra practice. It's a no pay gig, but maybe I can trade off some of my girlfriend's cooking, and a few beers, eh?"
My heart was pumping furiously as "Kick," decided now would be a good time to take a shit on the Stud's lawn. "NO, KICK!" I implored, but it was too late. "Well, uh, thanks for the fertilizer, man," James responded and when our eyes met I just laughed and apologized profusely before I picked up the mess with my handy bag and threw it in the street pile of leaves.
"Don't sweat it, man, I won't arrest you or ticket you."
"Well, thanks, I'll remember that when I'm doing 75 on Oak Tree Rd."
"Hey, I ain't that generous!" he answered and smirked. "So how 'bout it, ya in?"
"Yeah, yeah, that sounds cool."
"Alright, why don't ya come over tonight and we'll go over the logistics and shit, say, 7 o'clock?"
"Yeah, sounds cool."
"You want dinner? My girl will make us something nice."
"Sure, why not."
"Aight, be over at 7, man."
I nodded and walked with Kick across the street, anxiously awaiting the chance to get upstairs to the bathroom and beat my meat. I was hard as a cinderblock by the time I made it upstairs. I decided I'd wank on my bed because I could get a view out the window of the stud. I propped up four pillows so my vantage point could espy through the shutter slats the handsomest stud I'd seen in a long time.
I opened my jeans and pulled down my boxer briefs and let my 7 inch bud spring to life. There was a sticky puddle on the head and a circle of moisture on the inside of my underwear. I had seriously creamed my pants over this guy. I took my shirt off and got completely naked for this jerk session, watching my body and comparing it to the stud's. I have a decent shape, 5 ft 11 and 175 lbs. and a nice treasure trail line of hair going from the center of my chest to my pubic mound. I don't have too much hair on my chest, it's mostly smooth. My dark cock bush is contrary to my blonde hair and blue eyes.
I continued to stroke and beat my meat as I watched James go back and forth with the mower, showing off his bulge walking one way, his ass the other. I wanted to go crazy on him.
After explosively shooting, I took a nap and woke up around 6:30, just in time to get ready. I dove into the shower and got myself looking good, put on my favorite jeans and shirt. Why was I so excited, as if I was going on a date with the stud? I guess I was letting my fantasies overtake me. Well, it was nice to think about, anyway, and at the very least I was getting to be able to hang with this macho man so that in itself was reason to cheer.
My parents had red wine bottles in the closet so I took one of the medium expensive ones and headed on over. As I rang the bell I could see James through the door glass walking from the kitchen. My heart started to race.
"Wuzzup, man, ya made it right on time."
"Yup, no problem. Hey I brought wine."
"Oh thanks, man, listen I feel bad but my girl is working late at the hospital. She's a nurse at Pine General and there was some emergency, she won't be home 'till about midnight."
"Well, uh, I guess we could do this some other time." I posed it as a half question, wondering what to do and hoping James would tell me something I wanted to hear.
"No, no way, come in. Just means that she won't be here so the cooking ain't going to be the best, but we can still eat. How 'bout pizza?"
"Is the Pope Catholic?"
He laughed, "Thatta boy, I already bought it," he laughed. He showed me to the dining room and said, "Dinner is served, my man."
There was a pizza box on the center of the table with two place settings. This was going to be great!
"What can I get ya to drink?"
"Beer is good, Corona or Bud, don't matter."
"College boys drink anything, eh?"
I smiled, "Just about, yup."