originally published in Honcho Magazine - November, 1992 issue

 

 

 

The Helpful Neighbor
 

Story by Jared Jackson and Illustration by Michael Kirwan

 


How to tame a sexual brute.
_____

Marvin lived in the apartment above mine for over a year before we ever spoke. He was in his late twenties, early thirties, worked a factory job, and always seemed to need a haircut. He made a lot of noise upstairs and paraded one-night women past my front door two or three times a week.

He walked with the swagger of the self-consciously macho, wearing jeans revealingly tight. His appeal to all those women couldn't have been high romance, candlelight and conversation. But when you're built like he was, I guess you can get by without conversation. Whatever he did at the factory packed on the muscle.

I had watched him through the window many times, while he worked on his truck in the parking lot, or horsed around with his buddies. I'd watch him through the front door peephole, tight buns heading out, full basket corning in. Usually some chick in tow.

Marvin was fun to look at, but I never found I wanted to deal with the personality behind the image. So I never really said more than hello to him in the hallway. But I signed for a package of his while he was out one day--"Penthouse Video" it said--and it fell to me to knock on his door.

He answered the door stripped to the waist. He had sparse body hair, but there was nothing sparse about the rest of him. Solid as bedrock, he looked like a powerhouse on two legs. Thick arms, thick chest, and not a molecule of fat. Shaggy black hair, raven black and sexy.

"Uh, this came for you today," I said, handing him the parcel.

"Thanks. You want a beer?" he asked, turning back into the apartment.

"Sure," I said, following him into his messy living room.

Marv got me a beer and opened his package. He held up a video titled "Cookies," with a blonde bimbo on the cover. "Wanna watch it with me?"

Watching a straight man get off on a chick flick spelled nothing but frustration, so I said, "No, thanks."

"I figured you wouldn't be interested," he said, looking me over.

I shrugged, not caring what he thought.

"I know your kind," he went on. "Don't think I haven't noticed how you watch me all the time, looking out the window and all, slobbering all over your fucking self."

My impulse was to walk out, slam his door. But his attitude pissed me off, and no way would I slink away in shame. Then he rubbed his crotch. Despite myself, my eyes went to is basket.

"You into cock, man?" he asked flatly. Subtle conversation was not his strong suit. "You've had your eye on it all this time. You want a sample?"

He squeezed the bulge in his jeans. I started to tell him to fuck off, call him an arrogant bastard. But I didn't think he was really serious.

"Yeah, man; I thought so," he said. "If you weren't interested you'd have walked out right away."

"Arrogant bastard," I said, looking him in the eye.

"Yeah, maybe so. Maybe so. But you want it or you wouldn't stay. Am I right?"

I didn't answer him. Didn't know what to answer. His body was really hot and I'd fantasized about it for months.

"Am I right? Yes or no?" he pressured. His steely eyes bored into me. "Yes or no?"

A liar I am not. "Yes," I answered. What the hell.

He got another beer and leaned back against the sofa, palms flat across the sofa top, crotch thrust forward.

"Come and get it," he said.

When I walked up to him, he turned his face away from me, drawing on his beer. I unbuckled his belt. The fine hair at his navel was damp with sweat. I unsnapped his jeans and pulled the zipper down, taking my time, feeling the fleshy manhood under the denim. No underwear. I pushed the jeans to his ankles, and his cock bounced free, partly hard, swinging toward me. His scent indicated he had just gotten home from a day's work.

I took his meat in hand and squeezed. It had a heaviness about it, almost as if it were made of muscle. Something strong and masculine. He let out a long, slow breath.

"Get down and suck it." He certainly had a delicate way with words.

I knelt, eye to eye with his swelling uncut flesh. The hood pulled back as his tool engorged to full size, healthy and big. I massaged his balls. He moaned.

"Go on. Eat me."

I took his shaft into my mouth, savoring it like prime cut--make that prime uncut. He leaned further back as I tongued him, licking him like a hot ice cream cone.

"That's right. Go at it, man," he grunted.

I went at it, still moving slowly, sucking and stroking. His cock tasted rich and manly.

"Go for it, cock-sucker."

I took my time. Marvin's heavy organ pulsed in my mouth. I slid up and down his wet shaft.

"Suck me," he said, "all the way down."

I took him deep, right down to the base. He groaned, while I ministered to him. I found myself feeling more satisfied than I'd have expected with this redneck factory laborer, comfortable with my rude neighbor. The encounter felt very man-to-man, and I liked being up close to his masculinity, even if it was crude and without polish. For all his macho posturing, there was something honest and up-front to this man who simply said what he thought and asked directly for what he wanted.

"That's what I like. A nice slow suck."

That's what I gave him, nice and slow. Marvin did not thrust his hips, leaning against the table and letting me do the work. Even though he did not pump, he did not seem passive or inert. His meaty cock was alive in my mouth, pulsating and hot, content to receive without working for it. And I found myself content to give, an equal partner in this transaction.

"That's the way, cock-sucker. Keep eating."

Cock-sucker--in any other context I would have felt demeaned. In this case it came across quite simply as a statement of fact. I was sucking cock on my knees before this insolent man, because it was what I wanted to do. A conscious, adult decision.

As Marvin got close to cumming, his stomach pumped in and out with his heavy breathing. His dialog deteriorated into raspy grunts. Then he became silent as his cock shot its hot load into my throat. I kept my lips wrapped around his rod 'til I brought myself off. Then I sat back as his slick, swollen cock swung free.

He pulled his jeans back up. "You like that, huh?"

I gathered my senses and rose to my feet. He took another gulp from his beer.

"Well?" He waited for an answer, looking at me with a grin.

"Yes. I liked it. Did you?"

"Sure," he said as he re-zipped his fly. That was all. I said good night and went back to my apartment.

Two days later I got a phone call from Marv. "Come upstairs and help me out."

I went up. He had just gotten out of the shower, with his hair wet and wearing only a towel around his waist. He looked broody, flexing his tight arms. He pulled the towel off right away and flopped back in an easy chair.

"Suck me off. I've got a date tonight."

"Why would you want to cum before you go on a date?" I asked. "So I'll last longer when I fuck my girl."

How romantic, I thought. Marvin's cock was stiff before I could get to it. Fresh from the shower, the musky scent was gone, but it made him no less masculine. I went down on him as he lay back in the chair, his muscular body waiting for my assistance. His firm man-shaft stood at the ready, the head bulging. I wetted his meat down with my tongue.

"Yeah, this blowjob is just an appetizer," he moaned, draping his arms over the sides of the chair. I planted my hands on his solid thighs and ate my neighbor's hungry cock-meat, leaning over him while he lounged back and let me work.

"Eat dick, man. Get me ready for my girl."

This cock seemed alive, throbbing and swollen in my mouth. Again I felt that odd comfort in serving this man who dispensed with polite pretense and spoke his mind.

Yeah, he spoke his mind, even if the mind was shallow.

"Do it, cock-sucker. You're buyin' me more time to screw my chick." Even if he was thinking about his woman of the hour, this was still man-to-man, no matter what he called it. Two men, one giving his cock to the other.

"Suck it, man." His moans were a mixture of tension and relief. His thick cock bulged. I could tell as it stiffened that it was near the point of no return.

"Oh, shit," he rasped. And then silence. He pumped quietly, filling my mouth in a series of short jerks. Then he became still.

"Good one," he whispered.

I stood up and looked at the self-centered hunk I had just sucked off. He stretched his limbs and rose from the chair.

"Gotta run." He grabbed his towel and headed for the bathroom.

Marvin drove in from work at his usual time, the loud muffler announcing his arrival. Getting out of his truck, he looked up and saw me watching out the window. Even from a distance, the man's crotch was enough to take your breath. On his way in, he knocked at my door.

I opened the door and he strolled in, looking the place over. He walked back to the bedroom.

"Strip down for me," he directed. The statement caught me a little off-guard. I undressed while he watched me, feeling a bit self-conscious, and more than a bit aroused.

I stood completely naked in front of him. The fact that he still had on his work clothes made me feel all the more naked and vulnerable, excited and submissive. My own cock stiffened before me, and I felt completely exposed and on display. At this stage, modesty was pointless, so I just waited for him to make the next move.

He took his time, looking me over. Then he asked, "You got any lube?" I handed him ajar from the night stand and he nodded toward the bed. "Face down," he directed.

Marvin shucked off his clothes and climbed onto the bed. No romance. He greased himself and then mounted me. His body felt strong and reassuring against mine, like warm stone. The muscles of his chest and stomach pressed against my back. Even though his conversation and manner betrayed no intimacy, his flesh upon mine could not deny intimacy. There were only the two of us in that room, both of naked, both of us hard.

He centered his greased rod between my buns. I braced myself for him to ram into me without moderation. But he surprised me by pressing firmly but gently until I opened, and he eased his meat in slowly. Once in, he waited. I relaxed.

"Nothing like a good tight ass," he said. "Unless it's a good tight mouth." He began a steady pumping, never pounding, no sudden moves. I felt the fullness of his heavy dong inside me, as he slid in and out, groaning and muttering.

"Yeah, swallow up my hot cock." I could feel his breath against the back of my neck. He pushed his tool deeper into me.

"I'm gonna really fuck you," he moaned. His hands gripped my shoulders like vises and his rod probed me with a quiet urgency.

"You like it?" he asked.

"Yeah. Fuck me, Marvin."

His cock throbbed inside me, massaging me, exploring me. His rhythm did not increase, but each thrust seemed to penetrate deeper into my guts, each thrust reaching out for something indefinable in me. In us.

"Take my hard cock." He breathed heavily in my ear. "Give it to me, Marvin. Fuck me, man."

"Yeah," he panted. "Fuck you good." I could feel his hard body sweating against mine, his skin slick and damp, the muscles flexing in rhythm with his thrusts.

He pumped and I accepted, losing ourselves in the heat of the present. I tried to pull him into me deeper yet.

"Fuck me, Marvin. Cum in me."

"Oh, yeah," he groaned. His rhythm did not change. Then he lapsed into the silence I had learned meant his juices were pumping down his shaft. He clenched my arms in his strong hands. With my ass muscles, I clenched his cock-meat. Soon he pumped his load into me.

He climbed out of the bed and got a towel from the bathroom to wipe himself off. My cock stood rigid and horny, but he made no gesture to reciprocate. I sat up against the headboard and watched him get dressed.

Damn, he was beautiful. I pumped my meat by hand.

"You know, I been thinking," he said, looking at me coolly while I gave myself a hand-job. "This cock of mine needs regular maintenance, and I don't always have time to go out and find pussy for it."

I greased my shaft and went on fisting myself, turned on that he was watching.

"You like this big cock of mine, don't you?" he said.

I nodded.

"Sure you do. Turns you on, don't it, cock-sucker?"

I nodded again, stroking my meat under his gaze.

"Well, I need somebody to give it regular service." He groped his crotch while he talked. My erection strained in my hand.

"Well, you're gonna be my maintenance man," he said. It was a statement, not a question. "You're gonna keep my dick in good shape. You got that?"

"Yes," I moaned, my excitement growing. Holy Jesus, I was hot.

"Every day, man," he said. "You're gonna service me every day. You're gonna take care of my dick for me. Understood?"

I slid my hand up and down my hungry cock. "Whatever you want, Marvin."

"That's right, whatever I want. Basic service. No strings attached."

My balls boiled and my meat throbbed in my hand. What a turn-on to jack off in front of him. My cock shot its wad into my hand, onto my belly and chest.

We both kept up our ends of the bargain, every day when he got off work. He still brought his women home a couple of times a week. They'd spend the night with him, and usually he'd never bring them back. But women or no women, Marvin kept bringing his cock to me for servicing. Sometimes I'd go to his place, sometimes he'd knock at mine on his way up from work. Never much of a conversationalist, he had little to say, beyond cock talk. His ego was as big as his cock, but we got along. The summer passed this way.

Late one Saturday night, Marvin knocked on my door. I'd already given him head that afternoon.

"Couldn't find anybody at the bars tonight," he said. "I'm horny as hell." I asked him in.

He plopped down on the couch. "Not one bitch worth having," he complained. So he ended up at my place.

"Marvin," I said, "I think you ought to face the truth."

"What's that?"

"We're lovers."

"Bullshit."

"We're lovers, and you know it. Look who you came home to."

"A blow-job is a blow-job. Don't matter who."

"Maybe not," I said, "but you like doing it with men."

"Bullshit. You know I'm straight."

"Yeah, bullshit you're straight."

I remembered the day he and I met, how he said he knew I was interested or I wouldn't have stayed in the room when he started pressuring me. Well, now Marvin could have stormed out of my apartment when I confronted him, but this time he was the one who stayed.

"You go out with women, screw around with them," I said, "but you keep asking a man to suck your cock. Every day you come and knock on my door. You want a man to suck your cock."

There was nothing he could say to argue this point. All he could do was walk out, tell me to fuck off. But he didn't walk.

"And you trust me," I said. "If you didn't trust me to keep your secret, you wouldn't keep coming back. You're comfortable here. You know you're safe here."

"Fuck you."

"You have fucked me. Many times. That's exactly my point."

"I'd get along fine without you, man," he shouted.

"Probably. But you need another man. You have sex with a man every day, Marvin. Who are you trying to kid? You and I are lovers."

He made no move to jump up from the couch, no gesture toward leaving. "I don't need a lover," he said. "I don't want any mushy romance with nobody. You got that?"

"I'm not talking about mush and romance, Marvin. You know I accept you exactly as you are."

"Well what the fuck do you want me to do?" he yelled. "Ask you to move in with me? Take you home to meet Mom and Dad?"

"No, just stop lying to yourself. I've always respected your honesty. I am your lover. And I like you exactly the way you are."

Marvin sat quietly for a moment before he spoke. "You got a beer?"

I brought him a beer.

"You're the first Goddamn person ever to say you liked me just the way I am," he said.

"And it's true. Can't you see that?"

"But I do like women," he said.

"I know that. And you like men."

"I'm into women," he whispered, as if trying to convince himself. He leaned back heavily and closed his eyes. A long moment passed before he spoke again. "But I guess I'm into men, too. You let me be me."

He let me hug him. Even let me kiss him. "Spend the night with me, Marvin," I said. "You don't have to sleep by yourself tonight."

I slid my hand down into his blue jeans. "Now what were you saying about being horny as hell?"

 

 

THE    END

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Any images, writings or other content on this website may be copied for personal viewing only.
They may not be: redistributed; sold; altered; enhanced; modified by artificial, digital or computer imaging;
used on another website or blog; posted to any internet or computer newsgroup, forum or media sharing site;
nor used for any other purpose without the express written permission of the artist or KirwanArts.com.