Neighbour Lad

[Monorchid]

This will be a 'slow burn'... Stick with me here...

 

“Hey, Mr. Smith!”

I turned from loading my van to see Dan, the neighbour lad from 2 doors down. He’d evidently been working out in their garage and was now shirtless in the garden, showing off his defined torso. Dan is recently turned 18, and although I know his parents well enough their strongly religious lifestyle inevitably led to a cordial distance between us. I’d noticed over the past year or so, and especially since his birthday party earlier this month, Dan increasingly showing off his developing body. Last summer he’d exercised in the garden wearing only shorts, and now it was spring he was doing his warm-up and cool-down outside similarly dressed. It was impossible not to notice – the fences are low and my home office has a view of all the close-by gardens. I have to admit, I’d watched a few times last summer, even though he was definitely Forbidden Fruit. He’s about 5’9” and rapidly losing his puppy-fat to muscle. His short, curly strawberry-blond hair and ice-blue eyes gave away his parent’s Nordic origins.

“Hi, Dan! You’ve been working out again, I see.”

“Yeah, gotta keep it up if I’m going to get on the gym team at college.”

“Well, looks like you’re doing well.” As much as I wanted to leap the fences and ravish this innocent beauty, I needed to get on before the dump closed. “Good luck with getting on the team.”

I turned back to my task at hand, but a few moments later Dan appeared at the back gate, “Do you need a hand with that?” Thankfully, he’d put a t-shirt on.

“Erm… Won’t your parents be worried?” It was a gambit – he and his younger brother and sister were cosseted by their parents, especially the mother, and I genuinely worried about their reaction to him talking to me like this. Across two garden fences is one thing, but face to face…?

“They’ve taken Tom and Sarah to our grandparents’.” He picked up a box and loaded in into the van where I was stood. I stowed it, and we finished the job in double time.

Dan was looking a bit edgy on the way back from the dump. The atmosphere in the cab, filled with sweat and musk, was a getting tensely electric. “Erm… Mr Smith…”

“I think you can call me ‘John’ now. Or do you want me to call you ‘Mr. Olsen’?” I looked at him and raised my brows.

“OK… John… Can I ask you something?”

“Anything… But I might not answer.” I winked at him and he smiled.

“Your tattoos… Didn’t they hurt?”

Maybe I should explain – I’m heavily inked. In fact, the only part of me not tattooed is my face. “Not really. And anyway, it only lasts a few hours at a time.”

“Oh… How many do you have?”

“Well,” we’d got back at my garden and I hopped out to open the gates, “that depends how you count them, I suppose. I’d say one, but it wasn’t all done at the same time.” He took a while to think that through while I parked up in the garden.

“Can I have a closer look?”

“Well, I suppose so. Do you want to come in for a drink? To say ‘thanks’ for your help.”

We headed in and I grabbed some cans of coke before leading him to the den. “There’s just one thing…” I regretted saying that immediately, “but I suppose we can overlook that… Make yourself at home.”

He flopped onto the large, leather covered bean bag and hauled his t-shirt off. I say across from him on the low sofa and started hauling my boots off. “What thing?” he asked.

“Well, usually this is a naked house.” He looked at me quizzically, so I elaborated, “Most of the time, I don’t wear any clothes at home.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” He proceeded to kick off his running shoes and strip the tight shorts off. I hesitated, but stripped myself – after all, he wanted to see ALL my tattoos. I couldn’t help but notice when his semi-hard cock bobbed out of his shorts. He had a well proportioned, uncut piece – it would probably rival my own uncut, fat 8-1/2”-er. After a few moments, we were sat again facing each other, only a few feet apart. He was trying (without much success) to hide his manhood.

I pulled a joint out of a box on the side table, then thought, “You don’t mind?” I wiggled to spliff.

“It’s your house, Mr. Smith.”

“So it it, Mr. Olsen.” I gave him a pouty smile and lit the smoke.

“Sorry… John. Er… So how long did all those take?” He was staring, wide eyed, but having difficulty avoiding my cock which was, unsurprisingly, slowly waking up.

“From the start? Twenty years. But since I decided to get fully covered… I’ve been going every few weeks for the last year and a half. There’s some details left to fill in but I’m almost finished.”

“Wow… Can… Can I feel one?”

“Of course.” He was clearly conflicted, but the twitch in his cock when he asked, and again when I agreed gave him away. When he didn’t move, I moved forward and knelt in front of him, taking his hand (the one not trying to cover his growing erection) and moving it to my chest. He pulled away briefly when he made contact, then raised his hand again and traced over some the lines.

“I thought they’d be like… I dunno… Scars…?” he stroked more of my chest until his hand was flat against my skin.

“Well, I’ve got a couple like that, but it’s a different technique. They cut the design into your skin and rub the pigment in. That DOES hurt. But mostly it’s needles which don’t really hurt at all.” I turned to show him the two welted designs on my shoulder blades, and he ran his fingers over them. Both hands, this time. When I turned back to him, he carried on feeling my chest and arms with both hands and I could clearly see his almost fully hard cock standing proud. There was a glistening pool of precum in the well made by his foreskin. For my part, I was losing the fight with my own hard-on as his hands traced the tattoos down my belly.

“Shit! You’ve got tattoos on your willy… And what’s that…?” he was staring at the metal ball visible where my foreskin opened. I was wearing my PA-keeper – a short curved bar with a ball just on the slit and one still hidden by my foreskin where the piercing came out next to my frenum.

“It’s a piercing called a Prince Albert.” You can touch it, if you want. He stared for a while before slowly reaching with an index finger. My cock twitched when he finally touched the metal and he flinched away, sitting back hard on the beanbag. I thought for a moment, then said, “Can I touch you?” He looked at me askance so I continued, “You’ve been feeling my chest… Do you mind if I feel yours? You’ve been working so hard on your muscle definition.” That definitely seemed to shift his thoughts and he relaxed, smiling and nodding at me. I reached out with one hand and stroked his developing pectorals and abdominals, ignoring the fact his cock brushed on the back of my hand. “Keep your routine up and you’re going to have a great body.” I withdrew and sat back, but still on the floor in front of him.

I reached behind and relit the joint from the ashtray, taking a deep draw and idly letting the exhaled smoke drift in his direction. “Mum would go through the roof if she knew I was here.”

“Well, I’m not going to tell her. Look, anything you say or do here is just between us. I don’t judge, or tell people how to act. Be yourself, or who you want to be, I don’t care.” I drained my coke and dropped the spliff in the ashtray before heading to the kitchen. When I returned with two cans of beer, Dan was gingerly puffing on the smoke, coughing a little but not too much and as soon as he saw me, he threw it in the ashtray. I offered him the beer saying with a smile, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

We sat in silence while I finished the spliff and he sipped slowly at his beer. He’d either forgotten about his erection, or simply given up trying to hide. I never make an effort to hide mine, and he could hardly keep his eyes off it. “What is the tattoo on your willy?” I couldn’t help laughing, and he coloured almost beetroot.

“Sorry… I haven’t heard it called a willy since I was a kid.”

“Wha… What should I call it?”

“Whatever you like. I say ‘cock’ or ‘dick’, or any number of other names. But why don’t you take a closer look and see what the design is for yourself…” The pool of precum overflowed his foreskin as he leant forward. The little bit of spliff and beer had clearly softened his inhibitions as he reached out and ran a finger along my shaft. “Are they tadpoles?” I grinned at that – there’s a stream of tattooed sperm flowing over my scrotum and up the length of my cock.

“Well, not really. They’re sperm, but they look similar in a tattoo.” He had his fingers around my shaft so I figured I could touch him and reached down to scoop up the leaking precum. He didn’t seem to notice, he was fixated on my cock and its tattoos.

He suddenly looked up at me, pinning my gaze with those eyes of his, “I… Errmm… I never touched another man’s willy… Uh... Cock… Before… I only touch mine to wee… But sometimes I wake up all wet…” He looked seriously worried and embarrassed and it seemed like he was crying when he dropped his head. I lifted his head and drew him close into a hug. He threw his arms around me and held tight, shaking as he sobbed into my shoulder. I just held him – he was having some kind of revelation, and I reckon I knew exactly what it was.

[BigVers]

please keep going...

[Tanbbottom]

Great start!

[mjkuhl]

Anxious for more

[evilqueerpig]

How soon will it turn to shag thy neighbour?

[RobDog]

Great start

[NSABB]

Awesome start

[drew4fun]

Awesome story my friend, I do so look forward to you developing it!  Thanks.

Drew

[bottombehr]

Looking forward to next chapters 😈

[nolatallguy]

Great start - looking forward to the continuation. 

[Diesel]

Will enjoy seeing how this develops, the lad already displays interest and the beer and smoke can only lower his inhibitions. Hopefully he will embrace the opportunities provided 😈

Great start & greatly looking forward to further instalments. Please don’t keep us waiting too long!

[noladude]

this has me excited for the slow burn. thanks for a sexy start

[RawSubDad]

Love it. Keep the story going please. 

[seattlebbbtm]

Well written and sexy 

[Monorchid]

Thanks for the support, guys - I'm at my partner's for a few days but there'll be an update soon, I promise...