Ryan & Mike & the Guys Ch. 03

Ryan & Mike & the Guys 3

Won't you be my neighbor

It's quiet and cool on my deck at night. All my lights are off, no moon, clear sky. Nobody home but me. Sitting naked beneath the spread of stars, a peaty scotch beside me, riding a buzz as I try to stitch together constellations I learned as a kid. Damn, I'm buzzed. I look over at my drink and see it's empty. I sit up, too quickly, and the head rush makes me brace myself against the deck. My mind calms down and I stand, realizing I'm not as drunk as I thought, must have been half-asleep.

The cool breeze runs across my body, tightens my nipples, tickles my dick, makes my balls lift. I stretch and hear my spine pop. Scratch my pubes, and feel my cock swing, plump but not hard. I'm in good shape. My muscles firm, belly curved but not fat. I've been told my ass is great. I try to look at it, turning around a few times, but can only get a glimpse of the white cheeks jutting from my hips. I bend over and grab my glass, staying there to stretch my hamstrings. Run a hand up from my calf, past my knee, feeling the taut muscle of my ass. I slap it, but it's not the same as someone else spanking it. I need to get laid.

Been busy at work. And home....shit at home. Not getting laid there and that's expected. And okay. I roll up my spine. My phone pings and I see it on the arm of chair as it lights up. Picking it up, I see it's a text from Brian.

-WHERE R U?-

Brian's my next-door neighbor and we've gotten friendly with him and his wife. He's in his late 30s, not much older than I am, but has become an experienced hand to rely on. When something goes wrong at the house, or needs fixing, he's there with the proper tool and with guidance. He's helped me through enough that he's taken to calling me 'Son' when he explains how to patch a wire, or holds the ladder when I climb up high, or teaches me how to cut wood. Son, hold these wires. Son, watch your step. Son, give me a wrench. Son, you better put that down. Sure, he's older than I am but only by a handful of years. Still, I always defer to him; started calling him 'Dad' in response, usually when he was on my case. Luckily, He's nice enough not to do it when the other neighbors are around, though; that would be humiliating. Some of those guys can be assholes. Like Jerry. It's nice to have someone to lean on. Running a house can be tough. He's got two kids, daughters, in their teens now.

I looked at my phone, wondering why I was holding it, then remembered I got a text from him. Maybe I was more buzzed than I realized.

-home-

I go to the bottle on the table and pour another finger of scotch. Ok, two fingers. I'm home now who cares how drink it I get. The scent of the scotch makes me think of a newly mowed lawn. No, rain in the woods behind the house.

-? LITES ALL OFF?-

I feel the burn of the drink down my throat to a warm pool in my belly. Naked in the cool night, the scotch did keep me warm. The breeze felt nice on my skin, though. I run my hand down from my chest, to my stomach, to my junk; holding the heavy kit in my hand. Am I too buzzed to drive to the gym? Is it too late? What time is it? I look at my phone for the time and see his text and respond.

-on dick drinking-

I put the phone down and walk to the far end, the crickets and frogs filling the night with sound. It's very peaceful in the neighborhood at night. Kids inside. Tv. Homework. Parents cleaning up. I close my eyes and drop my head back, losing myself in the night, cradling my balls.

"What the fuck, Mike?"

I turn around, my scotch splashing on my stomach. I see Brian standing on the deck, his phone casting light at his feet. He tips the beam up at me and I shield my eyes with my drinking hand.

"And you're naked as a jay."

And I'm holding my junk. I let go and put my hand up to block the beam. And now I'm flashing my junk. Fuck it.

"Yes, I am naked and getting blinded. Will you get that light out of my face?" The beam plays down to my chest and stops around my hips.

"Made you spill your drink. Sorry."

I look down and see the scotch has run down onto my stomach to my dick and is dripping off the head. Thankfully, I don't have a hard-on. Well, not mostly. Enough to be impressive, I guess. I need to stop looking at my dick. I wipe it quick with my hand and look back up..

"Brian. No lights. What's up? Why are you here?"

The phone illuminates his face and he keys off the flashlight. "You're over here in the dark, I thought fuses blew. And then your text as I came through the side gate. Where's Kathy?"

I'm puzzled, thinking on my messages. What did i....oh, I can just read it. I look for my phone in the dark, walk over, and pick it up. I look over the conversation. it takes me a second. Ok, it takes two. I snort. "No," I chuckled. "On deck drinking; not drinking dick." I wish. Did I say that out loud?

"I figured. But then I come up here and you're naked and..."

"Brian. I'm home alone. Enjoying a nice night by myself. Having a drink." OK, a couple of them, a few, but he doesn't need to know that. "Kathy's at her mom's. I'm alone. Nice out. No one can see the deck." I shrug, mumble. "So...drinking naked. I'll get pants. Do you want a drink?" Thank God I wasn't jerking off. Or was I? Shit. I walk towards slider to get my stuff.

"No, you don't have to. I get it. Your house. I've done it. I...wait." He put his phone in his pocket and an open bottle of beer on the table. Quickly, he peeled his T shirt off and, before I could say anything, pushed his shorts to his ankles and stepped out of them. Naked. Even in the dark, I could see he had a good build. Taller than I am, broad-shouldered. Thick around the waist, but wasn't jiggling. A dad bod, I guess. So casual about being naked. Did he just helicopter?

"There. House rules. Even-Steven." He picked up his beer. "Bess is at her sister's with the girls this weekend. Came over to see if you wanted to hang out. I've got beers. There's a game tonight. Come on over."

"Sounds nice. Not up for watching the game tonight, though. "

"Mike, I'm bored out of my mind." He padded around the deck, looking into the dark woods. "First time I've been home alone for the weekend in months. Come on over. I have beers and snacks. Bring the scotch." His back to me, he spread his arms. "I get being naked out here now. This is nice." He walked over and squatted down, gathering his shirt and shorts.

He had a broad ass, hairy, soft, but there was power in those muscles.

"I don't know, Brian. I got to find some clothes and..."

"No, just come on over. No one can see my yard either." He chuckled. "Haven't run around naked since my frat days." He was halfway down the stairs. "Come on, Son, move it. "

I shrugged. I was drunk enough to agree. I grabbed the scotch and padded down after him. I followed his bare butt to the fence and gate between us. He was giggling and I found myself chuckling along. His motion light clicked on and spotlights lit up the yard. He whooped and did a bell kick to the side, splashing beer out of the bottle. Lights on, so his body, and mine, were on full display. As a whole, his build was good. He was big and solid. Some hair on his back and a furry butt. Thick thighs. Meaty thighs. I couldn't stop looking at his butt and thighs climbing the stairs.

He stopped before me and turned around. I was two steps behind, so the sudden stop almost had my face crashing into his crotch. His pubes were full, untrimmed, and he had a soft, thick cock with a heavy sack. Hair up his legs and stomach and chest. He was a bear.

"All the lights are still on, but no one's gonna see. I'll turn them on off, though," He raced up the stairs, his butt pumping. Maybe this wasn't a good idea, I thought, as I felt my dick stir. I'll just stay seated a lot. I heard the slider move and the deck lights went out. Lights started going out inside. I heard a rattle. "Shit. Ouch! I told 'em...."

He came out of the door with a small cooler of beer in hand. "Kids move everything around. Like American Gladiator in there." He gestured at the Adirondacks. "Sit." I accepted the offered beer and pressed my bare ass down in the trex chair. The plastic was cool on my skin, my nipples perked up and my balls pulled closer.

We talked about work, laughing at each other's stories. He told me about the kids, stories different than if they, or his wife, had been around. He wasn't against having kids, loved them dearly, but did want to give them a smack more often than Bess would approve. "She wants us to discuss everything. I was raised with spanking from my dad and grounding. Hell, I got paddled coming home drunk from prom."

Partway through the second beer, we lulled into silence, enjoying the night and the sounds of the animals in the woods beyond us.

"It's getting cooler," he said. "Let's jump in the hot tub."

"Sure. I'm dressed for it." I stood and gathered my beer and the scotch.

"Great. Let's get in." As he walked by, his hand came out and slapped my ass. The smack of skin on skin was louder than either expected. "Shit, Mike, that's a tight butt." He stepped back and checked it out. I knew it was a straight-guy frat-boy thing, but knowing he was looking got my dick lifting. He slapped it again, harder. "High and tight. Let's go!"

The hot tub was embedded in the end of his deck, which was rounded to echo the shape of the pool. It easily sat six, eight if they were feeling chummy. He pulled the cover off and I sat on the edge, my feet in the water. I put the scotch beside me and slid in. Brian dropped in with a splash, leaving a seat between us. Straight guys always want a seat, or urinal, between them. I dropped in and felt the rush of hot water run up my torso and make my head pound like it would burst. I ducked my head under to even out the feeling and relaxed, my head back, eyes closed.

"Oh, this is nice Brian. I think I needed this. Just need a funnel in my mouth and someone to pour in the drink." I heard him stand, the water flowing off of him, and the scotch bottle being opened.

"Here." I felt the glass rim at my lip and opened my eyes to see him holding the bottle. I smiled and took the end in my mouth as he gently tipped the scotch in. I couldn't help but stare at the water dripping down his hairy belly and beefy dick. I tilted my head back, he moved the bottle away. I started to swallow and realized he'd poured in a full mouthful of scotch. I let half down, the rest held in mouth, burning my tongue and flooding my senses with the damp scent of Scottish moors. I swallowed the rest and watched as he took a long draw from the bottle, still standing beside me. Naked. I was glad of the water obscuring my cock as I felt it stand at attention.

He set the bottle down and flicked on the lights in the tub. My hard-on was totally visible. He hit the jets and I was covered with bubbles. I felt the forced air and water hit my back and butt, massaging and lifting me off the seat. I dropped my head back and relaxed into the streams pulsating my body, floating in the hot water.

"Feels good, huh." He said.

"Hmmm."

"Something about being buzzed and hot water all around. Being naked in the tub is nice, too. Usually there's folks around, so that doesn't happen. Girls don't want Dad rising naked from the pool."

"Hmmm. That'd be awkward," I said. " I remember going camping with my Dad and skinny-dipping in the lake with him and my brothers. We were like seals, wrestling around. Mom stayed back at the camp, though. We'd not do that with her around, though. Guy stuff."

"Yeah. Mom's make things different than when it's just the guys. I think of shit I did with my frat. Mom would have smacked me; Dad would have laughed."

"Dammit." I opened my eyes to see myself floating near the top of the water, my cock visible in the foam.

"What?"

I sat up; at least I wasn't hard. "I gotta take a leak. Are there towels out here? I don't want to trail water into your house."

"No towels. Use a beer bottle."

"What? How do I dry off?"

Brian opened his eyes and looked at me like I had two heads. "No. Piss in the bottle." He saw my confusion. "Have you never pissed in a beer bottle?"

I shook my head. "It's not gonna fit in a beer bottle."

"You don't...." He stood up and stepped on the seat, letting water run off him. "Come on." He stepped onto the deck and walked back to the chairs. I let water run down, stepped out after him, and took the empty bottle he offered.

"Put your dick to the opening, Son, and then let go and, well, go. Don't press against the rim, though. Good way to get backsplash when the air pushes out."

This was embarrassing. I held the bottle in one hand and aimed my half-hard dick with the other. Then I stood there. And stood. I'm could feel the blush on my face and chest. "Dad, don't watch me!"

He laughed. "Ah...pee shy. Here." He grabbed another empty and put his piss slit to the mouth. He sighed and a stream flowed out, rattling in the bottle. I watched as it began to fill with foamy piss. I felt my bladder relax at the sound and was pissing myself. I focused on my dick so I didn't overshoot, but kept him in the corner in of my eye. I filled half the bottle. As my last drops fell in, I saw him shaking his dick, the last drops flicking out. My piss stopped as my dick got harder. I turned away.

"Where do I put this?"

"Leave it on the side, Son. Don't want to drink it by accident." He laughed. "Had a frat brother do that once. He was chugging halfway through before someone pointed out what it was."

"What? What did he do?"

"He finished it. He was really drunk already." He out his bottle with mine. "It was my piss, too. Told him next time he could just take it from the tap." We laughed and walked back toward the tub, both ignoring my hard-on that had reared up. I thought.

"You always get a hard-on from pissing, or was it my awesome physique, Son?" He stopped and struck a most muscular pose. I looked and laughed. He struck the Heisman pose.

"Oh yeah, Dad, how could a guy resist?" I joked. Not really, but I forced a laugh. He struck a double bicep.

"How about these, huh? Check 'em out." I had. And was. His arms were a gorilla's. His biceps bulged, balanced by heavy triceps. "Go ahead, feel 'em, Son. I'm proud of these puppies."

I was drunk, the atmosphere was humorous, so I walked over and wrapped my hands around one bicep, they wouldn't meet. The muscle itself was solid. I stepped in front of him and felt the other.

"Dad, you're huge!" A part of me was very aware of the heat from his body. I knew I was fully erect, but kept my gaze on his arms and chest, distracting him from looking down.

"I ever tell you I played football in high school? That's how I got big." He changed the pose, hands on hips, chest puffed out. "Wasn't good enough for college, but I kept up lifting. Still do when I can, but I've gotten soft."

"No way, you're still hard."

"Like this is?" His finger caught the top of my erection and twanged it, making it slap back on my stomach. "You want to talk about this, Son?"

"Ah. I'm pretty drunk, Dad. I just..."

His voice was deeper, serious; our eyes locked on each other. "I saw you looking at Jerry's speedo at the Roberts' pool party. We all looked, Son, there was a lot to look at and little suit to cover it. But you looked at it a lot."

My stomach dropped out and blood was rushing in my ears. He kept looking at me. His face was open and kind, not angry or accusing.

"Umm."

He put his arms on my shoulders and leaned into my ear, lowering his voice like telling a secret. "When I was in college, my roommate in the frat house was a gay. I had no problem with it. In fact, Son, I had a girlfriend who was a big tease. Came home late one night, drunk, and seriously blue-balled. Tried to sleep, but too horned up. I figured Tony was asleep, so I started jerking off, blankets down. I was into it and heard this sound and looked over caught him shutting his eyes, pretending he was asleep. I asked if he was watching and he said no. Which meant he wasn't asleep. I stepped over to his bed and asked again and he admitted he was. So I said the least he could do was help me out, or I could just tell everyone he liked to watch. I'm standing there naked, like I am now, and he put his hand on me."

His hand went down and took mine. He brought it up and my fingers met his hard cock. I looked down at my fingers grasping the thick meat, the wide crown pointing at me.

"Yeah, it was just like that. And he started jerking me off. Just slow, feeling it out. Yeah, Son, like you're doing. Then he opened his mouth." He put a hand to my chin and softly levered my mouth open. He ran his thumb over my lower lip. His other hand cupped the back of my neck. "He kept looking me in the eye. He moved closer. He took it in on his wet, warm tongue." He gently pushed my head down and I followed the pressure. By the time I was down on my knees, my mouth was already around his wide head and his hand was pushing me further onto it. "Oh, yeah, Son, just like that."

I didn't take much prompting. My jaw opened and I took his fat cock into my throat. I didn't even gag this time, he just plowed on through. I kept watching him; he smiled down at me, held my head with both hands and pushed himself in as far as he could. His hips started to rock and his head dropped back. He slow-fucked my throat and I did all I could to suck his meat in and catch breaths when I could. He pulled back, salty precum flavoring my mouth. My tongue was all over him, slurping up his head, exploring the flare of his helmet, following the thick shaft down. I buried my face in his heavy sack as he held his cock up, stroking it with my spit. I took one ball in my mouth, tried to add the second but couldn't get both. I gently sucked one and then the other. My tongue lapped the underside of the sack and his legs parted to give better access. I swirled my tongue on his taint. I turned, pulled myself through, and buried my face in his hairy crack.

"Sweet Jesus!" His ass tightened and relaxed as he sat into my tongue exploring his ass. "I never had someone doing that." He pulled his cheeks apart and I plunged to his dark hole. He let go of his butt, sandwiching me with the heavy cheeks, burrowing in with my lips and tongue. I pulled him down until he was kneeling on the deck, sitting on my face. I lost myself in his beefy ass; his moans and the grinding onto my face encouraged me on. He grabbed my hips and pulled them to him. I bent my knees, thinking he was going to blow me, but he bent me further and pushed my knees down, opening my ass to him. A finger wandered down my crack in and swirled around the entry.

"Son, you're shaved all smooth here, like a boy. Like your all ready for company." A finger prodded me, trying to open the ring. "You're shut so tight, Son. " His ass pulled off me. He took his prick and aimed it back into my mouth. I held onto his thighs, and his thick thighs held my head. I sucked his cock, filling my mouth with him.

He spat on my ass and tried to use that as lube to enter me. He forced a finger in partway, but my pained grunts had him pull back out.

"We need some help there." He lowered me down onto my back, his cock popping from my mouth. His face was above mine, his hand against my head. "Do you trust me, Son?"

I nodded and he stood. He took my hand and helped me up. Still holding on, he led me to the slider, into the house, and over to the kitchen. He snapped on the lights under the cabinet. He turned me to the kitchen counter. "Bend over, Son." He pushed my chest against the cool stone and kicked my feet apart. I stuck my ass out and he caressed it. "You sure on this, Mike? You want to be my boy?"

"Yeh-Yes, Sir."

"Damn, you got a sweet ass, Son. Firm. And so white I just gotta..." and he slapped my ass. I felt the shock, the sting, the burn. My balls pulled up and my cock bounced. I couldn't help but hump my butt against his hand and moan a little.