Lending a Hand to the Neighbor

Written by: JackRain2020

Sometimes you just get lucky. But luck isn’t all of it, sometimes there are benefits to noticing the little things in our daily lives. This is a story about how noticing my neighbor led to a dream come true for me.

I’m sorry, I should at least introduce myself a little. I’m Jack, a regular guy-next-door kind of guy. I’ve been called a DILF by a few folks, but all I’ll say about that is that I have a dad-bod. I’m in my early 40s, live a decent life and try to live life with kindness and an openness to new things. Those two traits have led to some interesting adventures, and along the way I have discovered that I have some bisexual tendencies.

I think mostly I’m just a very (very!) oral guy, and recently I discovered that extended to oral sex on a guy. I love going down on a woman, exploring her every wrinkle, fold, and scent. I love the feeling of a woman orgasming with my tongue on her clit and my fingers in her pussy, as she clamps down on my hand and floods my face with happy juice. It’s a good thing. On my kinky days I even like going down a little lower and licking her rosebud. Get enough tequila in me and I’ll bury my tongue deep in her ass and fuck her with it. But aside from a little college exploration that never really went anywhere, I haven’t had many encounters with guys.

Its not that I’m opposed, not at all. And I love dicks (especially my own!). All of us do, I’d wager. Anyone who watches porn is admiring the dick and how it is wielding its power. No matter how beautiful the woman or kinky the scene, the cock remains a central player in most of the porn I watch. So while I like to consider myself open to anything, I wouldn’t have called myself bisexual. But that changed recently when I started hanging out with my neighbor, John.

I live in a pretty typical neighborhood in the southeast. Middle-class folks, a little too homogenous for our own good, but safe and quiet. The houses are typical suburban homes, four bedrooms, three baths and a nice big garage. Most of my neighbors are like me, early-middle aged, kids growing up, wives and husbands that are busy shepherding kids through soccer practice and math tutors. It’s a good life, but not the most exciting. Like most of my neighbors (I suspect), my wife and I settled into a tired routine long ago that was too focused on the kids, not focused enough on ourselves or “us”. And so I found myself not being able to enjoy oral sex, or any sex for that matter, as often as I used to. Life just got in the way, and I suppose we were lazy enough to let it.

But one Saturday morning I woke up with a raging hard-on and a realization that I couldn’t remember the last time I didn’t take care of it myself. That made me think about the last time I was buried between the knees of a beautiful woman, enjoying her pussy, and I couldn’t remember that either. It was a frustrating realization, to say the least.

My wife was already out driving the kids to soccer, so I threw on some shorts and a t-shirt, laced up my shoes and took the dog for a walk. Walking helps. If you haven’t figured that one out yet, consider it your free tip of the day. It was on that walk that I encountered John. John lives in my neighborhood, a few blocks away in a home not unlike my own. He’s about my age, owns his own business and loves to work on cars. That means he spends a lot of time in his garage. He was in his garage that morning, getting in a workout. It was spring, so his garage door was open to enjoy the cool breeze. I noticed him in there, setting up his bench press and he waved when he saw me. So I strolled up with the dog and had what I thought was a normal friendly chat.

John’s in pretty good shape. He is about 6′ tall (a couple inches taller than me), weighs in around 175, and has just a little of that dad-bod-gut that most of us sport. I’m a little heavier but not much, and know my way around a gym too. It looked like he was pretty ambitious about the weight he was about to press, so I offered to tie up the dog and spot John as he did his reps. He readily agreed.

So I got in position behind the bench while he lied down on his back, and he got to it. At first I was totally focused on the weight. You know, I had a job to do, and I’m kind of a boy scout. But as he started pressing the free weights up and down for some reason my eyes caught some movement in his shorts. He was wearing some re jogging shorts, and now that I looked it was clear that he wasn’t wearing any underwear. What caught my attention was his cock sliding across his leg, flopping on his right. I could actually see the head of his dick moving, and I remember thinking to myself that he has a pretty decent package. The head especially looked “right” to me. Funny how that stands out now, in hindsight.

Suddenly I was feeling a little flush. And I became aware of the fact that my own cock was pretty close to his head. And now that I think of it, I could feel his breath sliding up my own shorts and almost reaching my cock (regrettably I *was* wearing underwear!). My own cock started growing, and not just a little. John finished his reps, and we chatted, and he did a few more sets. By the end of it he was sweating, his cock was all I could think about, and I was sporting some noticeable wood.

And…I think he noticed.

If he did, he didn’t give me any shit about it. As he sat back up and it was clear that my job was over, he thanked me and I mumbled a few things about how I was happy to help (which I was). I grabbed the dog’s leash and started to say goodbye when John asked me a question. “Hey Jack,” he said, “this evening I have to move a heavy part out of my truck and into the garage. Do you think you could lend me a hand? It’s just a little too big for one person.”

For some reason I said yes way faster than I should have, because I was more than happy to come back. I said I’d pop by after dinner, around 9pm, and he said that would be perfect. So off I went, and for some reason I found that at the end of my walk I was still disturbingly horny. Even a thorough self- examination in the shower didn’t seem to help. In fact, when the ropes of cum came shooting out of my cock in that shower, I was surprised to realize I had an image of John’s cock head in my mind.

I shook it off, and went back to my day. As the afternoon came and went I found myself eagerly looking forward to heading back to John’s garage. It was a warm night, so I was in shorts and a t-shirt again. This time, however, for some reason I decided to free-ball it when I left the house to head over to John’s. Sadly, my wife didn’t even notice. She was heading up to bed as I headed out, and told me to have fun. “Maybe I will!” I thought.

John was in his garage when I got there, similarly dressed. I couldn’t tell right away because it was dark, but I found myself sneaking peeks at his crotch to see if he was freeballing it again. We exchanged pleasantries, he thanked me for coming over, and we went to his truck to grab the part. He was right about it being too heavy for one person, but for the two of us it was pretty easy, and all too quickly we had the part in the garage on his workbench.

I could feel the disappointment welling within me, but I had no idea why. But as luck would have it, John offered me a beer and asked if I wanted to hang out in the garage for a bit. “This is my man- cave, I guess,” he said, as he opened the garage fridge and pulled out two bottles of beer. We sat on two stools near his weight bench, and he closed the big garage door to keep the bugs out. I wondered if he could tell that I wasn’t wearing underwear, and that my cock was throbbing a little as it seemed to want to poke out of the shorts. I had determined that he still wasn’t wearing underwear, and found myself admiring that rather large cock head of his while we drank our beers.

All too quickly our beers were finished, and again I felt disappointment building only to be pleasantly surprised when he offered me a second beer. I readily agreed, and gave myself a tour of his garage as he went to the fridge. It was then that I noticed the magazine on his workbench, and I surprisingly said, “Whoa! What do we have here?!?” The magazine title was Amateur Cum Shots, and on the cover was a regular-looking woman with a big cock pointing at her and cum all over her face and tits. “Oh shit!” he said, “you weren’t supposed to see that!”

“Not to worry, John,” I said. “We all enjoy a little of this stuff now and then, don’t we?” I was pretty excited by this discovery, and I actually picked up the magazine and flipped through it. I noticed too things. First, John likes cumshots. Second, these pages had been cum on. Just touching them made me horny.

“Really?” he said? “My wife isn’t into it at all. In fact, to tell the truth she isn’t really into sex at all anymore. Its pretty frustrating. That’s part of why I spend a lot of time out here. She got tired of me always bugging her for sex.”

This was one of those moments when you realize that you’re not alone, and I visibly relaxed. “I know how you feel, John,” I replied. “We’re kind of in the same rut, and I don’t see a way out of it.” He brought me the second beer, we shared a chuckle over the magazine, and I put it back down. I went and sat on the weight bench, and he sat down on the stool nearby. As such, he was sitting a little higher than me, and I could see that his cock had grown a bit like mine had. This was the first moment I realized he might be excited about this situation too, and it sent my mind into overdrive.

We talked about sports, cars, work, all the normal stuff. On our fourth beer, I was getting some liquid courage. I decided to turn the conversation back to sex. I didn’t know what my goal was, only that I needed to talk about this and I was thrilled to find someone in the same situation. It made me feel less alone. “Hey John,” I asked, “what is it about sex that you miss the most? If you could just get part of it back, what would it be?”

He smiled at the question, took a big swig of his beer, and said, “The blowjobs, definitely! My wife used to suck my dick like she loved it, and would even swallow every drop. It was like she couldn’t get enough. Then when the kids came along we got distracted and now she’s just not interested. She’s up in bed, probably sound asleep or watching TV, and it is always so frustrating to crawl into bed with a big hard-on and nothing to do but jack off.”

I could tell he felt like he said too much, but we were both too far into it to stop. “What about you?” he asked. “What do you miss?”

Now, I miss a lot of things about sex. That feeling of cumming in a juicy hot pussy, that first feeling of sliding into her, and definitely that feeling of her sliding her finger into my ass while I’m on top of her. Lots of things, definitely, but what I said was, “You know, this is going to sound crazy, but I miss giving oral sex. I’m a really oral person, and I love to go down on her. I even loved licking her ass when we were young and crazy. Don’t get me wrong, I miss all of it, but I truly miss the oral fun.”

You could hear a pin drop. The color in his cheeks went a little red, and I swear I could see his cock grow before my very eyes.

“Wow, man” he replied. “It sounds like you really love going down. And her ass too? I’ve never done that.”

We shared the awkward moment, and let it linger. Pulls on the beers, and then he strolled over to the fridge for another pair of bottles. At this point he didn’t even ask, he knew I’d take another one.

At this point I had a little buzz going, and so did he. And so, when he circled back a few minutes later to the conversation, he said, “Man, I sure do miss getting blown. That has to be the best feeling in the world when a nice hot mouth is wrapped around my dick until I’m pumping out my load.” He was leaning back a little, and his half-hard cock was beckoning.

I raised my bottle, and said, “Here’s to blowjobs!” and he laughed. He stood up and walked over to me, and clinked his bottle with mine. At this point he was standing next to me while I sat on the weight bench.

I decided to take a huge risk. I don’t know why. All I can say is, it just felt right.

“Can you keep a secret?” I asked. I asked it quietly.

“Yes, Jack, what is it?” John said. I think there was hope in his tone.

I set my beer down, and reached out and put my hand right on his shorts, on his cock. His eyes got big, but he didn’t move. Then I pulled his shorts down and got my first look at his cock. It was bigger than I expected, but I’m not sure I knew what I was expecting. Probably around seven inches, a nice cut cock with a large helmet at the end that looked enticing. A small clear drop of precum oozed from it.

I leaned in and licked the drop of precum off of his head, and then before I chickened out (or he did), I took his cock into my mouth. I could hear him let out a huge breath, and his body and especially his cock stiffened. As he got fully hard in my mouth, I heard him say, “Jesus Jack that is so fucking amazing. Are you sure buddy?”

“Mmm hmmm,” was all I replied, and then put my hand at the base of his cock and my other hand at his balls. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I knew what I liked. So in and out he went, and I rolled my tongue across his head and underneath his cock, and marveled at his throbbing dick as I thought to myself how much I was actually enjoying this.

He put his hands on my shoulders and began to rock back and forth. Small grunts and groans came from his mouth while slobs and smacks came from mine. All too quickly I could feel him get even bigger and his pace quickened. I wasn’t sure what I would do, to be honest. But then he put his hand on the back of my head and gently but firmly held me, and said in a rough whisper, “Can you swallow it Jack? I need that, buddy.”

I didn’t answer, but I didn’t pull off. And when I felt his cock head get even bigger, and his thighs tense up and his balls tighten in, I knew I would see it through. Suddenly his movements got bigger and wobbly, and he let out a huge breath as he unloaded into my mouth. This was the first time I’d tasted cum (well, that wasn’t my own, but that’s another story), and I was happy to discover that I loved it. Over and over he came, pushing his cock into my mouth and making me gag a little as I struggled to keep it all in my mouth.

And then he stopped, and I swallowed. I gently cleaned him up before he stepped away and pulled up his shorts.

Awkwardness dropped like a big heavy velvet curtain. “Uhh, I’ve probably got to get back,” I said, even as my own erection raged in my shorts.

“Yeah,” he said in a low whisper, “Thanks for helping me out. I mean, with the, uh, part. It was too heavy.”

“Anytime,” I replied. And I hoped he knew what I meant.

I walked back home in the cool night, and once home I quickly retreated to the bathroom to jack off. I don’t think I’ve ever cum so much, and I relived the moments of his cock in my mouth over and over. I was shaken by it, but also felt alive for the first time in a while. It was confusing.

I was also worried. Worried that he wouldn’t keep this secret. Worried that he wouldn’t want to hang out again, ever. And, worried that he wouldn’t want to do that again. I wanted to do that again.I barely slept that night. Morning took forever to peak into my bedroom window.

It wasn’t until lunchtime that my cell phone buzzed with a text message. It was John. “Hey Jack. I could use some help with another part tonight. You free to come over?”