My First Time with the Neighbor

I don't know where to start. I always struggle with starting new projects, for school or more private, but I really, really need to get this story out of my system. I can't tell my friends and especially can't tell my dad. For obvious reasons.

Well, okay. I saw people here usually introducing themselves at the start? My name's Malcolm. I'm average I guess? I think I'm what people would call a twink, with lean body, dark hair and blue eyes that all the girls compliments. I'm pretty athletic too, mostly because my dad made sure to teach me taking care of my body. When the story I want to tell happened I was barely nineteen, but now I'm turning twenty in few months. I was so... shy about what happened I couldn't even think about it for more than two minutes, let alone write it down. Already I can't stop blushing. But I just need to tell someone or I swear I'll go crazy.

Oh did I forgot to tell I'm also closeted gay? I think I did. Well, at least I think I am. For a big chunk of my teenage years I thought I may be bi, but with time I noticed I'm less and less interested with girls and-

And I'm going off the track. I'm sorry. Let's move to some background.

My dad is a really wealthy man. He divorced my mom when I was little and took care of me. I still live with him, his apartment is close to the university I'm attending anyway. It's an expensive place, with only few neighbors living around us. I guess I could be called a rich boy, I caught a little bit of snobbish side especially when it comes to food and vacations, but I do understand how does the world works. I know I'll have to get job at some point, find my own place to live, pay bills and buy food for myself. It just always seemed so far away.

The neighbors are mostly business people like my dad. There are also some teens around my age I never got to know well. Those are the exact stereotypes of rich kids and I found myself judging them a lot.

There's also a man that's the main character of this story. Besides me of course. He lives next doors with us and sometimes throws big parties, but always gives everyone a warning about them. So, compared to loud, rich kids that blast music on the most annoying hours, he's considered a nice gentleman. His name's Tomas Miller and I think he's around my dad's age. He doesn't really look like the scruffy, bear type of guy that I can see described in here most of the time? His hair is always neatly brushed, with three day beard over his chin and that look in his eyes, as if he's better than everyone else.

He always intrigued me because he was very mysterious. Once, when I was little, I asked my dad who is mister Miller and he struggled with answering before finally settling down on "probably an artist". His guests, who I saw few times in the lobby or in the lift, usually wore colorful, weird outfits. Later, when I started learning more about sex stuff, I realized that those parties were probably... well... orgies. For almost a year somewhere in highschool I got so fixated on Miller's persona I almost started stalking him, but then the school stuff came and I had to focus on it.

In reality the only words we exchanged were mostly greetings. And not even every time there was an exchange. He just waved his hand at me dismissively when I greeted him. I didn't really mind, it wasn't like I was crushing on him or anything. I still don't really know him and he's probably twice as old as me. If anything he was nothing more than a celebrity crush, the kind that you can look at but can never touch. But that changed.

A week after my nineteen birthday party I was cleaning our part of basement. I told dad I'll do it, because I was eager to find all the old stuff he may left there and forgot about. It was always fun for me, to find things from my dad's past. It would also mean I'd just spent the whole weekend alone in the basement, listening to music and laughing at old pictures, but I didn't mind. I just wanted to have a break from everything else.

I was somewhere in the middle of a third box, with a speaker playing some music and an old wig I found before on my head, when I heard the lift arriving down here. I thought it's my dad, wanting to call me to have the dinner, so I stood up from the ground and walked outside of the room.

"Hey dad, did you wear this wig only occasionally or-" I cut off when I saw it wasn't my dad. I snatched the wig off immediately. "Oh, uh, mister Miller. Hello," I said.

Miller was standing there, right by the lift, with a little crooked head and lifted eyebrow. I could see him lustering my flushed face, with hands crossed over his chest. I started to feel awkward, so I decided to retreat and close the door behind myself.

"Sorry," I laughed, slowly moving back. "I took you for my dad."

I was almost behind the wall when I heard something I never heard before. Miller spoke up, he actually made a whole, legit sentence and send it toward me, the first time in my life. That was enough to lure me out of the room. And then I froze, catching the meaning of his words.

"You're that fag that lives next door, right?" he said.

I felt my stomach drop and my throat clench. No one, not even my friends knew I have even a tiny bit of interest toward other guys. I knew how to hide the lingering looks I send to guys I found cute or sexy. I practiced hiding my sexuality for years. How did this man, a man who never talked with me, knew?

He had to read my shocked, scared face well because he nodded with a smirk and continued.

"You're still in closet, huh?" I was still too shocked to even nod or shake my head. He seemed to not mind. "Doesn't really matter, I know how to recognize a gay guy. You think you're sneaky with your little glances yet it's all too obvious."

My stomach jumped all the way back and up to my throat when I heard that. What if someone else saw, too? Someone from my school? Some of my friends? I immediately lost all my confidence for my skills.

"I'm... not gay," I managed to huff out, with eyes down and cheeks red. I really didn't know what to do in this situation. I didn't notice Miller coming closer.

"Oh don't lie. It's not like I care enough to tell anyone." I jumped up and straightened, hearing his voice way closer than before. He was standing right before me, maybe a step away, and looking over me with a frown. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Nineteen since last week-" I said, for some reason, and immediately snapped my mouth shut. I swear I saw his eyes glimmer in a way that made hair on my nape stand. Like he saw cool jacket and only now realized he can afford it. The glimmer vanished quickly and he smiled widely.

"Nineteen! So that's what the party was about, huh?"

I nodded but I wasn't really thinking about the discussion anymore. I never had a reason to be scared of mister Miller, or any other man in this case. But just now I realized how big this man was. He was a good head above me, obviously stronger by just looking at his body. And he stood between me and the lift, which was the only way to get out of the basement, beside the staircase that was probably closed behind the door anyway. I don't know why, but my mind immediately jumped to all the similar stories I read before. With twinks, like me, being forced into oblivion by hunks like Miller. They were sexy to read, but not fun to be in.

I was still a virgin back then, too. I wasn't scared or shy to talk about sex, but at the same time I didn't really feel like finding a girl just to cum. And, of course, getting a boyfriend was still a no for me. So I stayed in my little, porn driven box of masturbation and a little bit of playing with my butt, wondering about more and more kinky scenarios.

"Okay, uh, what was your name?"

"Malcolm," slipped from me mostly on reflex.

"Malcolm. Nice. Are you okay? You seem pretty uneasy."

He sounded nice. Concerned even. And I realized I'm getting worked up without any reason. So I looked at him, trying to smile lightly.

"I'm okay," I said, managing a smile and then looked away. "Just... no one really knows and, yeah."

Miller nodded. "I shouldn't come at you like that. But really, no one will learn from me. Don't worry."

"Thank you."

There was a moment of silence before mister Miller spoke again.

"I was heading to my basement, to get something out of it. If you need to sit down for a moment I have a mattress in there."

My stomach clenched a little but I pushed all those nasty thoughts down. He was just trying to be nice to me. It was only a coincidence he did so only after learning I'm gay and adult. I shook my head though.

"Thank you, but I should go back to my work." I jerked my head toward the mess inside mine and my dad's part of the basement.

"Come on, a little break won't change anything. And you'll work better after it."

Well, he was right. Even if going through old stuff was fun I needed some break. And there was no old mattress in our basement for sure. So I shrugged and nodded.

"Okay. I'll just turn off the music."

"Sure."

Miller waited for me to come out of the room. I decided to not close the door, I would be back in few minutes anyway. He lead me to next door, opened it and let me in first.

I stepped inside and when the light flickered on I froze. First of all, he didn't have one mattress in here but plenty. Second, I could clearly see chests standing by the walls. Only one of them was open and I could clearly notice toys inside. Not kid toys for sure. There was also that X shaped thing they use in porns sometimes, stuffed between a bunch of mattresses. I gulped, blushing like mad, and jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Is it too much?" chuckled Miller. I turned around to face him but couldn't bring myself to lift my red face and look him in the eyes.

"I'm, uh, surprised. That's all."

"That's all, huh?"

There was a weird undertone in Miller's voice, that made me look up. He was still standing in the door, blocking them for me, making my thoughts rush again. I was in a damn sex dungeon with this man glaring down on me, with a shit eating grin, blocking the only escape route I could have in this situation. I shuddered, looking at his eyes, seeing that glimpse from before in them.

"I'll just make it clear," he said and I felt cold shiver wandering on my back. Out of sudden I felt defenceless. "You're a pretty, little boy, totally in my type. I wanna fuck you on that wall," he pointed over to one of the walls and my head snapped towards it, "on that mattress," another point out, I looked as well, "and maybe on the floor too."

He stopped and I waited for him to continue. For him to ask what I think or if I want to, but he didn't. He only kept staring at my surprised, flushed expression, still blocking the door.

I opened and closed my lips few times, feeling my heart thumping hard in my chest. I really couldn't believe it was happening. Screw the fact that it was ripped straight from the stories I read and videos I watched. I just couldn't wrap my mind around the idea of this happening to me. The shy, virgin twink that was still too deep in the closet to openly look at other guys.

I swear my mind stopped working. Because the next thing I said was: "I'm a virgin."

Miller chuckled and stepped closer, probably taking that as consent. I heard him closing the door behind himself and felt the smell of his parfum. It all, along with the sheer idea of what's going to happen, made me dizzy.

"That's just perfect," he hummed. "I'll show you everything. Anyway, it's better to have your first time with someone experienced."

I didn't move back when his body bumped into mine. I was too frozen, too bewildered with what was happening to even think about moving back. Miller is so tall, I remember I fit with his body perfectly, with his chin over my forehead, able to smell the perfume and the shower gel off of the skin on his neck. His hips were against my underbelly and my breath hitched.

I could feel his penis through his dress pants. I could feel its outline pressing into my body.

That pushed me to move a little. I had to get out of this situation. It was just too much. I always thought my first will be someone I fallen in love with, in my bed, after a romantic date, not the older neighbor fucking me in the basement. If the circumstances were different, if it wasn't supposed to be my first time, I would be all over him. He was handsome, smelled nice, probably knew what is he doing. I knew he would give me a great time. There was still that little voice in the back of my head that was telling me I'll be a bad person if I'll allow this to happen right now.

Before I could make a whole step back I felt hand on the small of my back, rolling my shirt a little up and pressing into my skin. I jerked lightly, involuntarily brushing against his dick. I could feel it hardening so well through the thin material of his pants, with my shirt rolled above my navel. His hand was warm, so big, but surprisingly soft. It actually felt nice.

His other hand fell on my chin and tilted my head up. I looked him into his eyes, hungry, happy, brown eyes of a man who was already fucking me in his head. I looked away in a desperate attempt to cut off the connection, to stop the image of me leaning onto the wall with his hips snapping against my ass.

"Wait-" I said weakly and was cut off by his lips.

I did kiss before. Be it truth or dare, bottle game or just drunk fooling around with my friends, my lips met other person's lips. But not like that. It was never in a romantic way, not even mentioning the sexual aspect of this kiss.

His lips were soft, which was again a surprise, just like his hand. I whined, shutting down my eyes tightly and feeling his tongue pressing onto my own lips. Before I knew my body was reacting on its own, I released the pressure in my jaw and let him kiss me deeper. When his tongue slipped into my mouth I felt his hand, still resting on my back, slid down and grope my ass. I jumped again, pressing harder into his lips, which he met with a soft chuckle.

I started relaxing into the kiss after a moment, but every time he squeezed my asscheeks I was reminded what's really going on. It was terrible, I couldn't decide if I should at least try pushing him away or lean more onto him.

When he finished the kiss he stepped back with a smile. "Taste good," he said. "You have a nice ass, too. Wish to see more."

It wasn't a question, again. It was a nudge. I was supposed to strip on my own. But I still wasn't sure if I wanted to go through with it. From one side my body was all over the idea, if the rising tent in my shorts could be any indicator. From the other my mind was yelling at me to get out of there, go back to my apartment and take a long shower.

Miller for sure noticed my hesitation because he smiled sweetly and touched my cheek in somehow soothing way.

"Are you scared?" he asked. I swear I heard a tint of hidden satisfaction in his voice. I only nodded, because I didn't trust my voice to not crack if I spoke up. I still believed there's no way out of this for me. "Don't be. I won't hurt you. I'll be slow and gentle, believe me, I know what I'm doing." His thumb brushed my lips and I felt them tingle.

"I thought, I thought it'll be different," I finally managed to say, with hushed, trembling voice. I blushed more, realizing how delicate, pure I had to sound.

"What do you mean?"

"My, my first time." I looked a little up, to see his expression. Miller looked like he was thinking about something for a moment, before he obviously realized what did I mean.

"Oh, like it's not some tender time with your lover, isn't it?" he asked and he guessed so well I wondered briefly if he was in similar situation before. I nodded. "Think about that. Once you'll get a boyfriend you'll be able to show him what you learned today. Don't you think that's better than being a log in bed?"

Honestly I didn't understand what did he mean by that, but I got his point. He was right. I knew some stuff in theory but practice was something entirely different. For a moment there I made up my mind and quickly took my oversized shirt off. I held it in hands and looked around, wondering where can I put it, before looking at Miller.

He seemed a little surprised, seeing the top of my body. "I have to admit, I expected you to be a stick," he said, nodding a little, "but you seem to have some muscles. That's good. They're useful when you ride a cock."

I choked, wheezed and coughed a little, making Miller laugh. Who the hell says stuff like that? I glared at him but saw how his right hand strokes his dick through his pants and was left speechless again. Its outline was so obvious now. It wasn't even fully hard but it seemed big so far.

"Strip naked and leave your stuff over there," he pointed to a massage table, not stopping with his strokes. I gave a little node and moved over to it.

My insides were knotted and my breath was fast without even touching myself. I put my shirt on the table and looked back at Miller, again unsure. He was leaning on the door, his hand was now inside his dress pants, as if he tried to tell me there's no turning back. I knew it and it was still making my stomach clench.

First I wondered if I should take off my shoes and socks. Most of the cold, tile floor was covered by a dark carpet, so I decided to take them off. I did, feeling Miller's eyes on my bending back, knowing he's watching my ass with that same hunger in eyes I noticed before. Then I dropped my shorts and hesitated a little before touching the waist of my boxers.

"Stop!"

I jumped and jerked my hand away from the last piece of cloth I had on myself. A little spooked I looked back at Miller. He approached me so I turned around to face him, before realizing that way he could see the outline of my own dick very well. He did look, his eyes lingered, before he shook his head.

"No, turn around again. I want to be the one discovering that treasure for the first time." I bit my lip and did so. I immediately felt hands on my sides, making me shudder violently. No one ever touched me like that, with this intent. "You're an obedient one, aren't you?" He asked and I felt like it's an rhetorical question.

His hands slid across my sides, fingers pressing onto my abdomen, up. He stopped over my chest, touching around it, sliding across my nipples and making me shudder again. He pinched one of them, pulled on it even, making me gasp before letting it go and brushing it lightly again. Then his hands were back to exploring my skin. He slid them around my chest, my arms, over my belly before finally settling on my hips. He pushed the boxers down only a little bit, hooking them under my bubbly ass and leaving over my already hard cock, making my cheeks stick up even more.

I sighed, feeling his hands kneeding my asscheeks. He murmured "score" before taking his hands away. I felt a little uneasy, because I didn't know what is he planning, when I felt something firm and smooth right above my ass crack. I stiffened again with air pumped out of my lungs. I swear I even teared up a little out of the shock. His penis was touching my back. His hot, stiff dick was sliding over my asscheeks with little trusts. It was the first dick I ever touched in my life and it weren't even my hands that touched it.

Again I shut down my eyes but that only made the sensation stronger. I licked my lips, wondering if he'll make me suck him, imagining how did we looked like from behind right now, with his hands on my hips and his dick brushing against my ass.

After few moments he stopped and took his hands away from me. I couldn't really describe how I felt right then. For sure dirty, and not fun dirty, having the idea of someone else's cock sliding around my body. But I also wondered where did the warm go?