My Neighbors' Bodyguard

It's one thing to play erotic exhibitionist games and do some mutual masturbation. But it's quite another thing for a man to admit that he wants to be penetrated by another man.

Feelings don't lie, though, and deep inside I knew that I wanted the bodyguard to fuck me.

I was planning to go over for a visit when a phone call came. It was Justine. She said, "Steven, we want you to come over and service our bodyguard, but I must tell you, we are both upset with your last performance."

I knew this was a put-on; she was in her game voice. I assumed my playful tone and said, "Oh, I try very hard to please you and your bodyguard, Mrs. Petrie." I like to call them Mr. and Mrs. Petrie in game mode, Justine and Patrick when we just talk and visit.

"You're not trying hard enough. It has been weeks, and you still haven't properly serviced him."

Weeks, yes, and I knew what I had been hoping for, and now it was clear we were on the same wavelength.

She continued, "We think you are holding back, trying to avoid the obvious. Are you trying to preserve some of your dignity? You know very well what I am referring to, don't you, Steven?"

I did. "You want me to let him to fuck me."

"Correct, Steven."

"And let him come inside me?"

"That is exactly right, my boy. That is the service we expect from a male bitch. That is what you are, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mrs. Petrie." I liked when they said the word, but it was still hard for me to say it out loud.

"Well, you're not a good bitch if he can't fuck you in the ass and shoot his sperm way up inside your anus where it belongs."

Her dirty talk was so crude. My cock was hardening as we spoke and my imagination was becoming inflamed.

I had a sudden image of being on all fours and Donovan's powerful body behind me, his cock thrusting into me fast, doggie-style.

"Also," she continued, breaking my reverie, "I'm tired of cleaning up the messes you make, Steven. If you were a good bitch, you'd think ahead and bring something along to plug your asshole so you could carry the sperm home with you."

Her vulgar banter excited me. What a perversely delicious idea.

I pleaded, "Mrs. Petrie, I'm so sorry I've been inconsiderate. Please don't abandon me. I will do better. I will let him fuck me any time he needs. And I'll find something big to plug myself with after. I won't spill a drop, I promise."

"That's much better. All right. We will expect you within the hour. When you arrive at our front door, take off your clothes and leave them on the doorstep. Do you understand?"

I swallowed, but said, "Yes, I understand. I'll be there soon."

* *

I hurriedly showered, then rummaged around the house for a suitable plug. What the hell would work?

We didn't even have any sex toys in the house. How ridiculous was that? Again no doubt my strict upbringing keeping doors closed.

Then I remembered that we had a bag of carrots in the fridge. I settled on the largest carrot we had, recalling how thick Donovan's penis was. I carefully peeled the carrot and then near one end shaped it so it had a smooth notch around its circumference.

I took it up to the bedroom and tried it out. It was difficult to insert. I thought about using a body cream, but wasn't sure how long that would last. Maybe vegetable oil?

I returned from the kitchen with a bottle of a thick cooking oil, massaging a liberal amount into the area. Then on impulse I worked some into my hole while lying on my back with my ass up in the air. What a sensation. I hoped Donovan would like the sensation too. When I stood, what leaked out I rubbed into my legs.

With my ass well-oiled, I tried re-inserting the carrot plug. After some effort it slide in, and once my anal muscle closed over the notch near the end, it remained firmly in place.

I walked around with the plug inside, liking the feeling of being stretched out and filled up. Why hadn't I tried this before?

I patted my ass and said, "Get used to this thing. After you get fucked, it isn't coming out for a long time." A smile crossed my face as I pictured myself eventually pulling the plug out.

I decided to wear the plug over to Justine and Patrick's house, thinking to make an impression. I modeled my nude form before a full-length mirror, liking the sight of a couple of inches of carrot sticking out from behind me. And I loved the way it shifted from side to side with each step.

I slipped on a light robe and my flip flops and stepped out my back door.

* *

What if someone saw me outside? Only few houses had a view of some part of my crossing through the back yard. Several more had a view of the front of Patrick and Justine's home, so that would be where the biggest risk would be.

I didn't see anyone, so I crossed through our back yards, around the side of their house and went to the front door. Justine had said to remove my clothes before going in, and I debated waiting to drop the robe until the door opened. A movement at the window to the side of their door suggested they were observing me. I had my instructions. Plus they had a security camera trained on their front-door area.

So I took a moment to listen for cars, then shrugged out of my robe and kicked off my flip flops before ringing the door bell.

Excitement welled in me knowing that was naked outdoors with a large carrot inside my anus. My aroused penis was also on full display. I prayed for the door to quickly open.

It did not. I waited anxiously for two minutes before giving another ring. They were playing a new game with me. I enjoyed my predicament--though an undercurrent of nervousness was there too. What if somebody did see me? If anyone recognized me, how would I explain being naked outside, cock swaying in the breeze, with a carrot sticking out of a very private place? Perhaps through some gossip grapevine Marissa would find out.

For five long minutes, I paced around their front area without the door opening or a car passing. I rang again, growing impatient.

The sound of an approaching car stood my hairs on end, and I rang the bell yet again. I pounded the door as the car drew near, then stood motionless as it passed by the Petrie house. I looked over my shoulder and saw that the couple driving by never even looked my way. A flood of relief coursed through me.

The door opened. I smiled at the couple who stood looking at my naked body.

"Welcome, Steven," he said. "You look lovely as always," she said.

She added, "Did you come prepared?"

I turned around and opened my stance, thrust out my ass for them to inspect. "Will this do?"

Before they responded, I decided to get vulgar, knowing the type of lewd banter they loved. I added, "Will this plug keep all of your bodyguard's hot semen inside me where it belongs after he fucks me?"

My words brought smiles. She said, "I don't know, Steven. I've never known a bitch to use a carrot as a plug. What do you think, Patrick?"

Patrick said, "Bend over further, Steven. Let's just see how tight a fit we have here. I wouldn't want any accidents to occur. Donovan shoots a lot of sperm, and it is hard to get out of a carpet."

I was still standing in the open, on the front porch, but did as requested, spreading my feet wide and bending low to grasp my ankles. While bent almost double, Justine stepped up and grabbed the carrot, turning it, twisting it, then removing it with a sucking pop, saying, "I'll be damned, an anal carrot."

I groaned as she re-inserted it.

Then she told me to stand and turn around. Patrick said, "Okay, now do a few jumping jacks." I smiled inwardly, then did a dozen. Each jump made the carrot feel like it was twice as big. "Do a few deep squats." I did a dozen squats.

On the final squat, I remained squatting, with my hands braced on my knees, keeping my legs widespread. The exposed tip of the carrot almost touched the concrete as I held my pose.

I said, "See, I am well-plugged. After Donovan fuck me he shoots inside me, I'll plug my hole. No sperm will leak out to spoil your carpet, I promise."

They pretended to stall, "I don't know."

"Look, I want to make up for being a bad ... bitch. He is entitled to proper sexual service, and I am sorry to have denied him access."

"Well," Patrick said, "how do we know you have learned your lesson?"

Justine added, "What will you do afterward to demonstrate your changed attitude?"

I sensed what they wanted me to say, so I said it. "His sperm belongs inside me, and I should have to keep it there as a lesson. I promise to keep this plug in even after I get home. You can stop by unannounced and check on me. I'll wear it in place until the next morning."

This monologue pleased them, and saying those words out loud felt like a confessional to me. They looked happy, and I was hopeful.

She said to Patrick, "Honey, I think he has learned his lesson. He deserves another chance, don't you think?"

"Well, it is hard to find a guy willing to grovel naked on our doorstep in broad daylight," he pointed out. "Especially where anyone can see him, just for the opportunity to mate with our bodyguard."

"That's true," she said.

"And he even came with a carrot stuffed up his anus so he can carry Donovan's sperm back to his home."

"That says a lot," she agreed.

* *

Five minutes later, we were into our usual game, but this time I sat on the edge of the sofa between them and spread my legs wider. I was being as overt as possible, clearly offering Donovan my ass to penetrate. Yet the bodyguard was so into his favorite activity of masturbating onto me that he seemed unaware of my silent request.

Patrick and Justine could see what I was trying to do, and they knew what I wanted, but they offered no assistance. They simply watched me expose myself more desperately, squirming like a bitch in heat while their bodyguard stroked himself above me.

I was frustrated now, and I hungered to have that big penis inside me, thrusting to fill that needy place. I reached up and firmly gripped Donovan's thickness, pulling it and him down on top of me.

In my fantasies I had imagined the first time would be classic doggie-style, but events had taken their own course, and now Donovan had clearly gotten my message. He was lying on top of me, his heavy weight squashing me into the sofa, his hard cock and balls mashed against my crotch.

He quickly adjusted himself, sliding back onto his knees so his cock was freed and pointing at my anus. The missionary position also gave Justine and Patrick a better view. Each of them was holding one of my legs open high and wide to give Donovan better access to me.

Some kind of nature took over--or a perversion of it did--and Donovan thrust into me, the oil enabling him to penetrate me smoothly. Still, it felt like an invasion, and all of my consciousness was taken over by the sensations of being opened wide and filled with hardness.

The couple both leaned in to observe my penetration from each side. Donovan's humping loins quickly drove home his substantial cock, bringing forth a swoon from me. I felt him deep inside me, as though his cock was denting the back of my ass and pressing all the way to my stomach. I cried out, "Oh, god help me, I love this. Oh, fuck me, Donovan! Fuck me hard!"

The bodyguard humped hard and fast for ten minutes, his hands gripping my hips and his eyes taking in my nakedness underneath him. His breathing reached a crescendo and then stopped--and he began pumping a copious load of semen up my ass. I could feel the hot jets and I announced, "I can feel you shooting inside me!"

The couple made encouraging sounds as Donovan continued his orgasm until completion and then as he remained inside while his cock eased back and the swelling receded. When he emerged, he slumped back on his haunches, his breathing slowing.

I relaxed in a slump with a satisfied look on my face, and the couple eased my legs down but stayed beside me, surveying the aftermath.

I soon felt that some of the bodyguard's semen was about to leak out, but Justine was ready with the plug and quickly inserted it, saying, "There, now take that home with you."

A few minutes later I was walking from their back yard to mine, carrot firmly inserted. Thoughts of being seen evaporated. I no longer cared. The joy of walking naked outside with my new neighbors watching gave me satisfaction. I took my time. I even stopped at my garden hose and rinsed myself off in the cold spray. At my back door, I waved.

* *

Our next encounter was classic doggie-style and deeply pleasurable. It's hard to put in words what it means to feel fulfilled from being on your hands and knees while a strong man fucks you from behind.

But in the immediate aftermath the couple communicated a mood change and said we needed to have a serious talk.

Patrick said, "Steven, what about your wife?"

I looked carefully at their faces, reading their expressions. This was, in some hidden way, still part of the game for them. I said, "That part turns you on, doesn't it?"

"It does. It turns us both on."

"I'm glad. Tell me, what do you really want?"

"She doesn't know anything, right?"

"No, nothing."

"We want her to know."

I said slowly, "That is kinky. I like it." Though I'd been avoiding thinking too much about what this meant for my relationship with Marissa. "And it's proper that she should know anyway, especially now that things have gone so far."

Justine spoke up, "We'll leave that aside for now. There's something else to cover first."

"Like what?"

"Like a special something Patrick and I purchased for you, which we want you to wear for our special games."

"That's wonderful." I was as happy as a kid on his birthday. They'd gotten me a present!

Justine smiled and said, "Wait here."

She returned a minute later with a medium-size velvet bag, which she handed to Patrick who in turn presented it to me.

Curious, I opened it and pulled out a leather strip with a buckle at one end.

"Bitches wear collars," she said. "And it's a glossy brown, which matches your hair," he pointed out.

I was shocked at the symbolism of the thing, and a tremor of pleasure went through me too. I was shocked further when the bodyguard came closer, took the collar out of my hands and fastened it himself around my neck.

All three of them inspected me approvingly, and didn't know what to say about what this implied for us going forward.

"Should I be thanking you for this gift? It feels like an honor to wear it, knowing that that you want to play these games with me and let me service your bodyguard sexually."

Patrick said sharply, "'Honor' is hardly the right word for a man who lets us say and do the things to him that we do."

"Nor is it the right word," Justine added, "for a man who willingly spreads his legs for another man to fuck him."

I was forgetting their favorite word for me. But that word didn't capture everything that our escapades meant for me.

"Enough for now," she said. "Play time is over and you'll have to return home. I trust that carrot plugging you is working but let's not take any chances with our carpet. Honey," she said to Patrick, "get the door for our new bitch."

* *

Their front door closed and I was back outside, my clothes bundled in my hands, my carrot plug doing its job, my new collar feeling tight and heavy around my neck.

Before making a dash, I took a quick look up and down the street. Just as I started I heard a car coming and I took off like a rocket, getting around the corner of the house and out of sight just as it passed. It was a close call that got my heart pounding.

That pounding energy carried my feet quickly to my home. I arrived in record time, closing the back patio door behind me, safe now in the privacy of my own house.

Marissa had just gotten home--and I don't know which of us was more surprised to see the other.

She halted dead in her tracks and looked me over, almost dropping her briefcase. "Honey, what the fuck?"

I caught my breath, steeled my resolve, and walked closer to her.

Her eyes went to the collar around my neck, scanned downward along my bare torso to my nakedness, and then noticed the mess of liquid running down both legs.

"What's that?!?"

I turned around, knowing that she would see the end of the carrot inserted there.

"My god," was all she said.

I suddenly felt unclean and desperately wanted a shower, but I knew I most wanted to be fully honest with her.

"It's semen, Marissa," I said. "For three weeks I've been fucking the neighbor's bodyguard."

I brushed past her on my way to the shower. Marissa followed as I expected. I turned on the water and stepped into the stall.

Marissa said, "Would you please clarify that?"

"Yes, but can we talk while I'm in the shower?"

"Okay. Why a bodyguard?"

"Because he works for our new neighbors."

"Do the neighbors know?"

"They set it up. My new position is to service their bodyguard."

"What? Why?"

"Because ... it's hard to explain."

"I have time."

* *

I took a minute to shampoo my hair and soap my whole body, being extra careful in the sensitive area surrounding the still-inserted carrot. It seemed ridiculous to use a carrot that way, and now that my sexual fever was lessened I was tempted to remove it. But I'd made a promise to leave it inside me until later.

Marissa eyed the protruding carrot but mostly her eyes couldn't leave the collar around my neck.

"So why were you running around naked outside?"

I told her. I came out of the shower clean and wrapped a bathrobe around myself, and then I came clean about everything I'd done in the last three weeks.

There was a lot to tell, and she listened quietly as I told her how I'd first noticed the new neighbors, how I'd decided to go meet them, how immediately they'd gotten me under their spell, how I voluntarily went back repeatedly, and how our sexual games had gone from one thing to the next to the latest.

I could see that Marissa wasn't as upset as she could have been--especially given the bizarre way my secret had come to light.

And I started to feel a tiny bit more hopeful when she asked me to spell out in fuller detail how things were.

She asked me to go back to the first time I'd orgasmed, sprawled half naked on the Petries' couch. I tried to explain how it felt with them watching while the bodyguard stroked me.

She ask for more information about the "bitch" word, what I thought it meant to them when they called me that and why I accepted it.

She wanted to know who had come up with the carrot plug idea, and she wanted to know why I had carefully prepared it the way had.

And she especially wanted to know about the bodyguard--about how he looked and moved, but mostly about how I responded to him and the various things he did to me.

Her face betrayed nothing as I gave her a detailed description of the acts we'd done and their effects on me, both physically and emotionally.

* *

We were both silent for a few minutes.

"You know, Steven," she said thoughtfully. "I know you love me, and I know I'm away a lot, and I know that men will be men. But I've also sensed something about you, and I'm not surprised that it was a man when you took a lover."

I couldn't believe what she was saying. How could she sense something like that about me when I hadn't known myself?

"And let me guess," she continued. "He's a big man, yes?"

I nodded.

"And strong and good-looking?"

"He's quite strong," I said, "but I wouldn't exactly call him good-looking. It's more that he's very masculine and has this aura of power about him."

"That makes sense," she said. "And it excites you when he puts his hands on you and forces himself into you."

My face turned red, and my body flushed, but I nodded. "It excites me a lot."

"And what about this couple, the new neighbors? How do they fit into this?"