New Neighbors

My wife and I live in a quiet subdivision. We are both in our early sixties. I am semi-retired while she is still working. Her job often requires her to travel so I am frequently alone, as was the case on a chilly Monday morning in January.

Over the weekend, two men had moved into the house next to ours. They were about my age. We had introduced ourselves to them on Sunday afternoon. One was named Jeffrey and the other Stephen. Both were in good shape. Jeffrey had retired last year while, like my wife, Stephen was still working. He also was like my wife in that he did a lot of traveling for his job. I had seen his car leave before six in morning that first morning.

I was surprised when the doorbell rang just after ten and it was Jeffrey.

"Hi Eric. I just brewed a pot of this really great Kona coffee and I wondered if you would like to come over and have a cup and tell me a few things about the neighborhood?"

He was an inch or two shorter than my six feet and was clean-shaven with closely cropped gray hair. Not surprisingly, given the weather, he was wearing a white woolen turtleneck under his black parka. He had on black woolen gloves, black sweat pants and, rather surprisingly, knee-high black leather boots of the kind one sees on dressage riders at a horse show. I know this because my wife is an avid horsewoman.

"Sure," I said. "Coffee sounds great."

We sat opposite each other on two long couches in their living room. Jeffrey was right, the coffee was great. He even had some wonderful peanut butter cookies to nibble on.

We chatted about grocery stores, gas stations, restaurants and the like for a few minutes and then he walked me around the house. They had a large-screen TV, a treadmill and an exercise bike and a home office for two. What was most interesting in the office was a torso mannequin with a beautiful white mohair turtleneck on it. I had never seen anything like it. It was fuzzy and beautiful. There was a camera on a tripod pointing at the sweater.

"Nice sweater," I said. "Why the camera?"

"Well," Jeffrey said, a strange smile gracing his lips. "I do some buying and selling of sweaters on the Internet. This one is a beauty, hand knit in Scotland. I took a picture of it earlier this morning and have posted it online."

"It is really is a beautiful sweater," I said, wondering to myself what the chances were that my new neighbor would be a fancier of mohair sweaters. I had been in love with them ever since I was in high school and they were a seemingly required part of all the girls' wardrobes.

"But it doesn't look like a women's sweater," I said.

"It's not," Jeffrey replied. "It's for a man, perhaps better said, it is for a special type of man."

The smile reappeared and he said, in a gentle soft voice, "Perhaps you would like to try it on?"

I was surprised but curious and managed a meek "Sure, that would be great."

Jeffrey's smile widened and he said, "Excellent, now take off that hoodie and that black T-shirt. A sweater like this should be experienced against bare skin."

I did as he said. By the time I had my T-shirt off, he had removed the sweater from the mannequin and handed it to me.

"Pull it over your head gently and carefully. Enjoy the moment."

Again, I did as he said.

When I had done so, he stepped very close to me. So close that I could smell his aftershave. His hands fussed with the turtleneck collar and then the cuffs. They smoothed the wool covering my shoulders with a gentle touch that was more of a caress.

"Wow," he said, "Does that look good on you. The fit is perfect. As much as I have wanted to, I haven't put it on. I know it will be too big for me.

"Now, whenever I have the chance to have someone put one of these special sweaters on, I insist that they savor the moment."

He took me by the elbow and led me back to one of the couches.

"Sit right here," he told me, his voice now carrying an insistency that had not been there before.

He then sat next to me and arranged my hands so that one was on tope of the other in my lap.

"Excellent, my new friend. Now, stay right there. We need some accessories. I'll be right back."

I sat there marveling at the sensual feel of the hand-knitted mohair. I thought about the work that had been put into making this sweater. I also thought about how nice Jeffrey was in letting me wear this delightful sweater. I also felt my cock begin to harden.

"Oh my," I thought to myself. It was obvious that Jeffrey and Stephen were gay. What was he going to think when he returned. Or, then it came to me—was he seducing me? Something like this had never happened to me.

When Jeffrey returned he had a pair of white woolen gloves and a long white mohair scarf in his hands.

"These will be just perfect," he said as he sat down next to me on the couch.

"Allow me the pleasure," he whispered in my ear. No doubt about it now, I thought. I am being seduced.

He lifted one hand and fit the glove over my fingers. He put that hand back in my lap and then repeated the process with my other hand. His hand lingered a moment on my thigh and then gently began to caress the inner thigh.

"I do believe this scarf should be used as a blindfold so you can fully submit to what is happening to you, don't you?" he said as he adjusted his position so that our bodies were now touching—shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, leg to leg.

I nodded, unable to say a word, and he carefully wrapped the scarf around my head, covering my eyes. I was now fully his. If he wanted, he could tie me hand and foot and I would do nothing more than nod my head and perhaps make a small moan of delight.

My cock was now rock hard.

It was as if Jeffrey could read my mind. He had me stand up after he had gently knotted the scarf blindfold behind my head. He pulled my arms behind me and tied them together with something soft.

"It's the belt to my bathrobe," he whispered in my ear, as he embraced me from behind, his hands caressing my shoulders, then my chest, my stomach and, finally, my crotch.

My own gloved hands could feel his cock and, like mine, it was rock hard.

"What are you going to do?" I said in a quivering voice.

"For starters, gag you if you aren't quiet," he said, putting his hand over my lips. "Just relax, enjoy what is happening to you. You are wearing a beautiful sweater and are helpless to the advances of a talented and handsome man.

"In fact," he continued, keeping his hand over my mouth while his other hand went underneath my sweat pants and found my cock, "if you are a really good boy, you may just end up being the lucky recipient of one of the world's best blow jobs."

He stopped for a second, his hands still in the same places.

"Your choice my friend. Nod and I'll continue. Shake your head and I won't."

I immediately nodded.

Jeffrey pulled down my sweat pants and got on his knees.

As he pulled down my boxers, he laughed and said, "My my, look at that. Your not-so-little friend seems quite anxious for some attention, doesn't he?"

I moaned when his lips touched the tip of my cock.

"I do think a gag is in order," he said. I prefer to work in quiet and you seem to be the noisy type."

He left me there while he went somewhere, probably his and Stephen's play drawer.

When he returned, he sat down on the couch and whispered in my ear, "Open wide please."

I did, and I felt something rubbery enter my mouth, filling it rather easily. Jeffrey buckled the gag in place and kissed my ear. "There is nothing quite so wonderful as a bound, gagged and rock hard man in a mohair sweater.

"By the way, in case you don't know, that is a penis gag. There is a very realistic looking two inch rubber penis in your mouth right now. Feel free to play with it. It won't be long until I replace it with the real thing."

"Mmmmmppphh?"

"Yes, my new friend, my cock. You don't think I am going to all this trouble just so I can give you a blow job do you? We are going to take turns, sharing the way good neighbors should. In fact, I think you should go first, not that you have too much say in the matter."

I squirmed on the couch. Me, give him a blow job? It would be my first. I was surprised to feel my cock pulse a little at the thought.

"Have you ever given someone a blowjob before?" he asked, his voice gentle. I could tell he had gotten down on his knees in front of me and his voice came from very close to my fully erect penis.

"mmmpppph! Mmmpppphh!" I shook my head.

He must have sensed something in my voice, even though the actual words were muffled quite effectively by my gag.

"Don't worry," he said, "It's actually quite easy. Just kiss and lick and suck until I come. Don't worry it won't take a long time and you will probably find that you enjoy it. I was eighteen when I gave my first blowjob to old guy who lived in the apartment next to mine when I moved out of my parent's house and went to school."

He kissed the tip of my cock and then swirled his tongue around it.

I moaned into my gag.

"That's how you start my friend. By the way, that old guy was probably our age and was so happy when he found out I was gay. He went right to work seducing me. He even introduced me to bondage that first time. I still remember the sweater he wore when he tied my hands behind my back. Of course, I remember even more the taste of his cock and his cum."

He kissed my cock again and this time ran his tongue down my shaft and began to lick my balls. He kissed them gently and then withdrew and I knew it was soon going to be my turn.

Jeffrey, as I was finding out, was quite the talker. As he stood up and began the task of getting me into just the right position to give him my very first blow job, he kept telling me about this older guy who had seduced him all those years ago.

"We ended up having a very nice fling. I would come home from my classes, knock on his door and he would be ready with a nice cold beer, a set of handcuffs, and the sweater he wanted me to wear while I sucked him off.

"He was the one who turned me into a wool fetishist. He had dozens of sweaters, all in sizes just right for a man. Mohair, angora, Shetland wool, cashmere. You name it, he had it. He loved to watch me put on the sweater of the day. Once I had it on, he would very gently take me in his arms, caress me until I moaned, and then just like I did with you, he would put his hand over my mouth and tell me it was time.

"I would then be placed on my knees, hands cuffed behind me and would proceed to kiss, lick and suck him until he came. Afterwards, he would take into his bedroom, tie me spread-eagle on his bed, gag me with a woolen scarf and return the favor.

"And that, my new friend, is exactly how we are going to play our own little game this morning."

I now found myself on my knees, still blindfolded with the mohair scarf, still gagged with the leather penis gag and my hands still bound behind me with the belt to his rope. Jeffrey's last touch was to tie my ankles together with what I found out later was a two foot long length of soft, red rope that sold as "bondage rope."

He sat down in front of me on the couch and gently caressed my shoulders.

"It's time for your gag to be removed. Are you ready?"

I nodded.

He unbuckled the gag and gently put a hand on each side of my head. He brought my head forward until my lips touched the tip of his rock-hard cock. I kissed it, marveling at how fascinatingly wonderful what had seemed like another ordinary day was turning out.

I swirled my tongue around the tip of his cock and then slowly and gently used my tongue and lips to discover the length of his shaft and the balls. I was surprised at how much I was enjoying every thing about this—the sweater, the bondage, and giving him a blow job.

"Very good!" he said, "You have the potential to be a world-class cocksucker."

I now had most of his cock in my mouth and felt an intimate connection with my new neighbor that had my own cock throbbing.

"Now for the finale," Jeffrey said. "I want you to very very slowly move your lips up and down the shaft ten times. Then do it much much more quickly."

I obeyed and heard him moan after the first slow movement of my lips up and down. I couldn't resist pausing for a second to kiss the tip of his cock once more before resuming.

When I got to the second quick pass up and down I felt him begin to cum. Then he came full force, his sperm pulsing into my mouth. I felt like I had accomplished something wonderful. I wasn't even thinking about being tied up or about my own blow job to come. All I was thinking was how wonderful it was to be in this position with my new neighbor.

(to be continued)