Welcome to the Neighborhood

Disclaimer: This is a new story I'm working on. I plan to write in smaller chapters so I can push out new material more frequently. I do my own editing, so disregard any mistakes. All characters are 18 years or older. I'm appreciative of any and all feedback. Thanks!

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CHAPTER 1: Not everything stays the same

Moving back home after college is a learning curve. At 22, I never thought I'd leave my life in the city for the small town I called home, but I knew it was for the best. Graduation came and though I found myself with a degree, I didn't have a job to prove myself. I booked a flight out home, packed up my tiny studio apartment, and got on the next 747. Speeding down the runway, I took a last glance at the skyline. Though much of my life was left up in the air, I knew I could count on two things: the first was that my dad would be right outside the gates, waiting to drive us back home, and the second was that things wouldn't be the same as had left them before.

As we drove down the familiar streets, I looked across the buildings, pointing out the houses that popped up in our now crowded neighbourhood. Even amidst the fresh coats of paint and newly packed pavement, everything still had a sense of familiarity.

My father, the warm and playful man that he is, reached out his arm and messed up my hair: "It's nice having you home, son"

I gently nudged his shoulder, "Me too, dad. It just made sense"

He peered out at the non-existent traffic, "You know Nick, you can stay as long or as short as you like. This place here- it ain't so bad. New shops and homes are popping up left and right. Hell, in a few years, it might just be as crowded as that big city of yours"

I laughed. This small town would never be the same as the city. And as we pulled into the driveway of my childhood home, I thought, maybe that isn't such a bad thing.

Opening the trunk, my dad explained, "You take the small stuff, I'm gonna run in and tell mom we're back. I'll come out for the heavy lifting"

I grabbed a few small items: a backpack, messenger bag and some small boxes. Hitting the button with my elbow, I waited for the trunk to lock in before making my way inside. As I turned around to face the street, I saw him: a tall, sturdy man, strolling down the street with his dog. Oblivious to me, I stared as his arms flexed at the sudden jolts of the dog's movements. They stretched through his tight fitting green tee that draped his white skin. He seemed relaxed, yet reserved at the same time, as he cautiously walked on the sidewalk in his flip flops as if walking in cadence. Just as he strolled out of my line of sight, I saw the star of the show: the outline of his thick cock that bounced through his camouflage board shorts with every step. The imprint of that dick alone stirred excitement in mine as it grew harder in my pants. I thanked every God there was for jeans, able to somewhat conceal my raging hard cock attempting to burst through the denim without so much as a free hand to block it.

I waited a few seconds, allowing my erection to subside, a difficult task for someone of my age. Stumbling through the front door, I got my footing and placed the boxes on the living room floor.

My mom rushed up behind me, "You're home!", she exclaimed.

I returned it with a hug. She held tight, "Good to have you back, son"

I responded, "Glad to be back, mom"

Letting go, she turned back to the couch and instructed, "Why don't you go wash up, you've been traveling for over eight hours and two time zones. We can have dinner when you're done"

The warm water felt soothing on my hands as I aimed for the perfect temperature. I'll tell you, traveling across the Pacific and over two time zones made it feel like I had gone a week without a decent shower. Pulling off my shirt, I examined myself in the mirror. I was finally proud of the body I had grown into. A strict diet, free on-campus gym membership and a lot of stressful nights studying can do that to you. I traced my fingers against my nipple, the most sensitive part of my body. Unzipping my jeans, my cock sprang out, finally free from its tight constraints. I never liked wearing underwear, and with those long flights, I decided to ditch them entirely.

Slipping out of my tight-fitting jeans, I stepped into the shower. As steam filled the room, I let the water run down my back and drip between my cheeks. It felt soothing, as I slowly lathered myself up washing away the sweat and replacing it with suds. I paid special attention to my chest, working the soap against my newly defined pecs. For the first time in my life, I had muscle and I loved every inch of my hard work. As if feeling neglected, my cock grew hard, begging for attention. I traced my fingers down my stomach and gripped my erect dick, a feeling all too familiar. Lathering up the shaft, I pumped a few strokes. At 8 inches, it felt large in my hand as I started to caress my fingers down every well-pronounced vein. Using my thumb as a I guide, I wrapped my palm around the head and slowly traced underneath my foreskin. A small shiver went up my spine as I traced small circles around my engorged head. I leaned back, resting on the tile wall with the water rushing down my upper body and parting ways at my cock.

I remembered the mystery man like a vivid memory. With his bulging muscles making mine look miniscule. The outline of his cock bouncing against those board shorts. And those strong and hairy legs that found footing in skimpy flip flops. There was something about the way he dressed, casual, not unlike every other guy in town, but still different. I jerked on my cock a few more times before I felt my low hanging balls start to clench. A few long strokes and I could feel myself on the edge. I thought about him once more and almost immediately, I could feel loads of my warm cum empting out of myself and onto the shower floor. I leaned against the wall, hoping the sound of the shower head was strong enough to muffle my careless moans. And in turning off the water, I watched any residue of my excitement flush down the drain as if it never happened at all.

The rest of the evening was pretty normal: a nice dinner and conversation with my parents, some quality time in the living room and an overall embracing of my return to normalcy. After a couple hours on the couch, my dad asked me to clean up the kitchen table and take out the trash. At 22, there were still chores around the house that I hadn't yet outgrown. With a flick of the wrist, I tossed the bag in the dumpster and once again peered out onto the neighbourhood street. I wondered if I'd see that man again, and like clockwork, but eyes grew fixed on a lighting shining across the street. There, at the second floor of one of the new developments, I saw our unnamed friend standing beside the window of his assumed home. He wasn't facing in my direction but even through the filtered light of his bedroom lamp, I could see his pronounced figure clear as day. He wasn't just a stranger, he was my neighbor across the street. And as he switched off his lamp and as the outline of his body walked away from the window, I grew determined to welcome him to neighborhood.

I walked back inside desperate to find out more about the man. Replacing the bag on the trash, I asked, "Hey dad, who's living in the new house across the street?"

Turning back from the television, he answered, "Oh he just moved in a few weeks ago right after the house was finished with construction. I met him a few times. He said he had just gotten stationed here and would be staying for about a year."

A small smirk appeared on my face as I thought about our solider friend across the street.

Just then my mom interjected, "He has a wife, right honey? I haven't really seen her around much"

Flipping the channel, my dad added, "That's right, I remember him telling me that his wife is a flight attendant who's often away on trips. It's the two of them and that dog in the house"

And just like that, the smirk subsided. I cling onto the word, "wife" like a bitter taste in my mouth as I gulped, "Ah alright"

Turning off the TV, my mom offered, "Such a shame he's by himself most days, we should have him over for dinner one of these nights."

I made my way upstairs as she finished her sentence. Still clinging onto the thought of someone else. I don't know why I had become so obsessed with this man. I'd had my share of guys but there was something intriguing about him aside from his obvious looks and physique. Even the thought of a wife seemed like less of a red flag and more like a challenge. I bit my lip as my cock, once more, rose to attention. I'd like to say that I'm in control of my sexual desires, but moving away from home and getting a real taste of man on man fucking made me horny at the mere thought of cock.

Knowing a mere jerk off session wouldn't cut it, I reached into one of my boxes and pulled out an old friend. I made sure to carry this box up myself, ensuring that no one would discover the contents. I marvelled as it lay in my hands, a huge flesh-colored dildo. I ran my fingers down the latex head, realistic-looking veins and down the balls unto the strong suction cup. This guy came in real handy on the nights I didn't get much action and by the looks of my growing cock piercing through my basketball shorts, tonight would be one of those nights.

Stripping down, I lied down on my bed with my back propped up against the wall. Legs spread open, as vulnerable as I could be, I reached down and started to feel for my hole. I couldn't tell you when I knew that I was into guys versus girls, but one thing was for sure, when I decided to try gay sex, I knew the role I wanted to play.

Gathering spit, I massaged around the surface of my ass. Slowly, I ran my middle finger up and down the hole, relaxing it with each movement. Not wanting to detract from the overall sensation. I knelt on my bed and began to grease the dildo with my spit. I carefully placed underneath me as I raised myself up on both legs. I caught a glimpse of the image from the mirror across my bed: me, squatting with my hole mere inches from the cockhead with my dick hanging in anticipation. Biting down on my lip, I lowered myself onto the toy. Shivers went up my body as I could feel the cockhead penetrating my tight hole. I've used this toy over a hundred times over, and I still feel some pain when I first get it in. Still, I continued to press down on the head until I felt it push past the muscle. From there, I lowered my body on the shaft until I felt the balls of the toy rub up against my skin. Any pain that once existed now subsided as the toy fit me like an old glove as my body relaxed around the familiar object. I slowly began to ride the fake cock, using the strength of my legs to bring the tip almost to the point of sliding out before ramming the dildo back into my hole up to the base. I did this for a few minutes, riding the cock while I jerked my own dick with force. Soon, I grew weak in the knees- not from fatigue but from pure ecstasy. If I ever needed a good solo fucking, this was how I got it. Needing release, I knelt on the bed with the toy still inside me as I lowered my ass down and continued to fuck myself. I tried to get it as deep as I could before sliding back up, repeating this motion. After a few minutes of this, I felt my balls tighten, anticipating a big finish. Biting on my lip in order to prevent myself from screaming out, cum sprayed out of my cock and onto my waiting palm. Without even giving it a thought, I brought my palm up to my mouth and drank the still warm cum from my hand, like man who has been without water for weeks. I savoured the sweet and bitter taste as it coated my tongue and oozed down my throat. My tongue, lapped up the remnants from my palm before sucking on my fingers until they no longer tasted like my nectar. I pumped the toy a few more times before rolling back onto my back.

There I laid: stark naked with hands still glistening from my own juice, legs spread open like a whore with a dildo still partially inside my ass and a cock slowly deflating with every minute. "How did I get so worked up over the thought of a man?", I asked, hoping there would be more to the story. I revelled at the thought and slowly drifted asleep.