The Guy Next Door

Chapter 9

9

LEIF

A fter I close my blinds, I strip down and get into the shower.

Enjoy the view.

Why am I hoping he did enjoy it?

Is it cruel to taunt him when I know he’s attracted to me? Maybe, but it was such a thrill thinking about the way he looks at me. That he doesn’t even look like he could hide his attraction if he wanted to.

I’ve never messed around with a guy before, but while I’m showering off, I notice I’m spending extra time scrubbing between my ass cheeks, even though I’ve already washed there. This isn’t about washing, though.

It’s curiosity.

He likes my ass. What would he want to do with it?

Obviously, I know the answer.

I’ve never been interested in anal before, but all of a sudden I’m thinking about gay sex and what it’d be like to have a guy in me.

I’ve heard great things about the prostate. It would supposedly feel good.

I run my middle finger around the rim, pushing the tip in, but my ass is pretty tight. How do guys get a fucking dick up there? I push a little farther, but it weirds me out.

Stop it! What the fuck are you doing?

This is all Zane’s fault. He has my brain doing wild things.

I finish washing up, but I can’t let go of my curiosity.

With my towel around my waist, I sit at my desk, performing a quick online search for anal toys. I’ve heard of butt plugs, but some of these are way too big. I check out a few that seem reasonable sizes, and as I’m looking, think about Mom and Dad getting home and finding one of these in my room.

But they won’t be home for another week or two, so now would be the time to experiment…

*

“We should be home Monday,” Mom says.

“That’s great. I’m glad Grandma’s letting you claw your way from her clutches.” Keeping the phone to my ear, I open the front door and lean down, picking up a package off the porch.

“We’ll see,” Mom continues as I head back inside. “She’s able to get around, and I think Cathy can handle this better on her own.” Cathy is Mom’s sister, a.k.a. another of Linda’s favorite victims. “And if we need to come back, it’s an easy flight. I can’t imagine if we’d tried to do this before the pandemic, but your dad and I’ve had a pretty easy time working virtually.”

While we chat, I set my box on the kitchen table.

“So what have you been up to?” she asks.

“Um…not much.”

Kind of true. It’s been a few days since I made pizza for Zane, and since then, I’ve mostly been watching TV or making meals for my neighbor/stalker. Whenever I take them over, he acts so appreciative and tells me how much he’s enjoyed whatever I last made him, and it’s enough to encourage me to keep doing it. It also feels like the least I can do for him since he’s dedicating so much of his time to watching me.

After the break-in, it’s comforting knowing someone’s keeping an eye on things because since that night, I’ve been nervous, fearing that intruder might return to finish what he started.

But it’s quiet. Maybe this is the calm before the storm?

Or is it an indication that this is all in Zane’s mind and that really was a burglar whose timing lined up with Zane’s paranoia?

Whatever’s going on, I enjoy having Zane watching me, and not exclusively for my safety. I must admit that since the pizza, I’ve become more apt to walk around my room without a shirt on, playing with the blinds so he can see me, even if only for a minute. It’s made me more than a little curious about some things about myself that I hadn’t previously considered.

I chat with Dad too, and by the time I hang up, I’m in my room with the package that arrived earlier. I was following the tracking, so I’m not surprised when I open it and see a postcard with a graphic of my product along with a variety of others this adult store offers. I set the card and paper packaging beside the box, then retrieve the funky, black, S-shaped toy that was one of the less intimidating shapes and sizes on the site. Still, the thought of putting this thing in my ass makes me cringe. But if that’s such a strange thing to me, why am I considering it?

I never considered things like this before I met Zane. And it’s not like he’s mentioned anything other than finding me attractive and that little bit about my ass, so why would that get me thinking about sticking things up it?

Okay…maybe I get that one.

I tuck the little fella into my nightstand and toss out the packaging and product info in the trash bin by my desk before sliding my phone out of my back pocket and texting Zane:

ME: My parents are coming back next Monday.

I’ll feel safer once they’re home. If someone is trying to abduct me, that’ll be much more difficult with them around. And make Zane’s work a lot easier. But that’s not the only reason I’m texting him.

ME: So…since I know you’re not doing anything on Friday, how about you swing by and I’ll make you something?

I’d like to see him again. Not only stop by his place to drop off chicken tikka masala, but to chat with him.

I’m relieved he doesn’t leave me waiting. Although, based on what he’s said about watching me, I guess this shouldn’t be a huge surprise.

ZANE: That’d be good. I finished off that last bit of the tikka masala, so it’ll be nice to eat again. :)

The corners of my lips tug into a smile, and now he’s got me thinking about what I should make for his visit.

When Zane arrives on Friday, he’s looking healthier than when we first met. It was a couple of weeks ago, and maybe it’s just in my head, but his cheeks look fuller, and the bags under his eyes aren’t as severe. I take credit for some small part in that.

I invite him in, and he starts for the kitchen, but I say, “Actually, before we eat, I wanted to show you something.”

His forehead wrinkles up. “What is it?”

“You’ll see. Come on.”

As we head upstairs, he tails behind me. I glance back at him. He looks adorable in his jacket and jeans, his stoic expression frozen as he glances at the photos along the wall. When we reach my bedroom, we exchange a quick glance. It’s electric. It’s…surprising.

Stronger than the last time I saw him.

But he quickly turns away.

“This is my buddy Kyra,” I say, guiding him to her cage. She’s pecking at seeds in her feeder, but as I approach, she glances between us.

“I’ve seen her when you have her out.”

“Yeah. I don’t love keeping her cooped up in a cage, but I don’t want her to hurt herself. And once she’s better, I’m gonna let her go. Back to the wild, where she belongs.”

“How did you get her?”

“I was jogging and happened to be coming back when the neighbors’ cat had a go at her. Nipped her wing, but I managed to chase the cat off. Kyra was dinged up pretty bad. I’ve been nursing her back to health. But look how good she’s doing. Her wings still aren’t quite there, but I’m hoping in the next few weeks.”

Zane is eyeing me strangely.

“What?” I ask.

“That was very kind of you. I doubt I would have interfered with a cat. Let alone taken her in.”

“I figure you don’t really know until you’re in that situation. It’s not like I had plans to do that.”

“Did you buy the cage?”

“There’s a thrift store over in the outlet with the grocery store. They had one for fifteen bucks, so I snatched it up. But she eats a lot, so I’m almost out of the bag of food I got her.”

“You do like feeding things, don’t you?”

I grin. “I guess so.”

Our gazes meet again, and we stare at each other for a moment. Again, I’m having some very anal-centric thoughts I can’t explain. It’s clearly tied to him, though. He finally breaks our stare-down, saying, “You wanted to show me this?”

“Yeah. I don’t know why. I don’t get to show her to many people. And I think she could use some fresh company. I’m sure she’s tired of seeing my face all day long.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” he says, not a trace of humor in his voice as he studies my expression.

The thrill of hearing him say that, and the way he’s looking at me, makes my dick twitch.

Jesus, when did I become such a horny fuck?

“My parents haven’t met her yet, but they’re used to this. I used to do this as a kid. Take in an injured turtle or lizard or mouse.”

He raises his finger to the cage and strokes between two of the bars. “Hey, Kyra. It’s nice meeting you. I think you’re in good hands.”

I’m pleased he likes my little surprise, even if I don’t entirely understand why I wanted to share that with him. Maybe because I enjoyed the chat we had, sharing those other parts of myself I wouldn’t want to share with someone else. Someone who wouldn’t understand.

“Anyway, I’m sure you’re hungry. Let’s get you fed.”

“That works for me,” he says, starting for the door, and I follow. But he stops abruptly and I knock into him, would have probably knocked him down if I hadn’t caught myself.

What the hell…?

I follow his gaze to the trash bin by my desk. Now I see what he sees.

Fuck, it’s that postcard for that fucking anal stimulator. I didn’t think I needed to shove it to the bottom of the trash.

“What is that ?”

“Nothing,” I lie, which is senseless since he approaches the trash and snatches the postcard, assessing it before turning to me. “Is this a sex toy?”

“It’s something I got online. I was…I don’t even know.”

“Sorry, I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that a straight guy would be into this. I know some guys are into pegging. Still, this was not what I was expecting to see.”

God, my face must be red right now.

As he places the postcard back in the trash, I say, “It’s something I’ve been thinking about. I’ve never done anything back there before, and I was playing with my fingers, and…it seems too tight to really do much of anything. I mean, I know you can get something in there and have heard things about the prostate feeling amazing, so just thought I might try to get something to warm me up.”

I’ve said too much, but even more, it’s clear by the way it came spilling out that it’s something I wanted to share.

With him.

“Anyway, as I said, something I’ve been thinking about recently.”

“How recently?”

Fuck.

Don’t answer that. Don’t fucking answer that.

“Just a weird thought, and I’m in my early twenties; I’m supposed to be experimenting with that kind of stuff, right?”

I expect a chuckle or something, but he’s staring at me with that determined expression. God, it’s fucking sexy.

Silence stretches between us. We’re good at awkward silences.

I don’t even know what to do now, but he finally shakes his head and says, “I feel like saying something cheesy about how you don’t need one of these when you have a guy who’s perfectly willing to help you.” He doesn’t make eye contact when he says it.

“Yeah, that would be cheesy.”

“Yeah…” He looks away.

But I could tell, even as he made the comment, it wasn’t a joke. And I wouldn’t have wanted it to be a joke.

“So, Zane…why don’t you just tell me what you really want to do?” My words come out like I can’t hold them in, like they’re telling on some secret desire that lingers within me that I haven’t quite come to terms with. Judging by the way his eyes widen, they clearly surprise him too.

“Wh—what?”

“Why make a joke out of it like that when you obviously want something?”

Maybe I want it too.

What the fuck am I thinking?

Although, I don’t know that thinking has much to do with any of this.

This is primal.

I didn’t consider this when I brought him to my bedroom, but now that he’s here, something curious within me wants to get to the bottom of what I’ve been thinking about since our chat.

Get to the bottom. Fucking apt.

“What do you actually want?” I ask, like I’m demanding a confession.

He flinches, then studies me for a moment, as if he’s considering the consequences of what he wants to say.

“Stop thinking about it, Zane. Just say it.”

We’ve already seen so much of each other—when we shared that shit about our mental health. That was a hell of a lot harder to share than what I want now.

His jaw tenses. I’m convinced he’d tell me this is a shit idea, but his gaze is right on mine as he says, “I’m thinking I don’t want you having some half-ass experience the first time. You don’t know what you’re doing back there. That I’d be better at showing you what it feels like than your fingers or some fucking toy.” He sounds like he has a personal grudge against it. “And that I want to watch your expressions for your first time, see how much it gets to you…how out of control it makes you as your body bows to my touch.”

My face is hot again, but it’s not from embarrassment.

He approaches me slowly. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” I spit out. Once again, it’s like I don’t have control over my own fucking mouth. It’s fucking telling on me, but I don’t want it to stop. Not when he’s looking at me like that.

“Take off your clothes,” he says, and a jolt of excitement races through me.

I like Zane bossing me around. Saying what he really wants rather than keeping it bottled up.

He moves toward me. It’s wild to think how terrified I was of him those first few times we met, especially considering how hard my dick’s getting in my pants right now, and he clearly notices. A smile slips across his face as he looks at me. “Take off your clothes, and get on the bed,” he says, much softer this time.

I hesitate for a moment, but then fearing I might overthink it and talk myself out of it, I toss my beanie on the bed. Then I remove my shirt before tucking my thumbs in the waistband on either side of my jeans, pulling them down with my boxers, revealing how hard I am at the mere thought of doing this with him. I step out of them and stand before him. His gaze trails up and down me, drinking me in…and God, if that doesn’t make my stiff dick twitch even more.

He winces. “I thought you said you were straight.”

“No. You kept insisting I was straight.”

Not that I’d ever considered myself anything else, but my interest in him? That sure as hell isn’t straight.

He smirks, God, like he’s enjoying knowing how hard he’s made me.

I pull back my comforter and slide into bed.

I’m so out of my element. Here’s a guy who knows what he’s doing. Who wants to show me what he knows, and I’m fucking clueless, and nervous as fuck.

Without a word, Zane spins around and heads toward my desk.

I wonder where the hell he’s going when he grabs my swivel chair and pulls it over beside the bed.

“Lube?” he asks without looking at me.

“In the nightstand.”

He digs through it, and I can hardly judge him, considering how I rifled through the drawers in his kitchen when we first met. When he finds the bottle, he sits in the chair, then looks me over. “Lie back, relax.”

“The relaxing part’s more difficult.”

He smiles. “It’s okay. We won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. And you say the word, and we stop.”

His words help me settle in as he squirts a few pumps of lube onto his fingers. Setting the lube back on the nightstand, he reaches his left hand over my leg, watching my face as his fingers slide between my cheeks. “I’m only gonna play around it. Not going to go in yet.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“You’re shaking.” He rests his other hand on my torso, his warmth soothing me some more, but making my dick firm too.

“This wasn’t how I was expecting to spend this evening.”

“Well, me neither, but here we are. And don’t worry. It’ll be good. Think of it as me helping you jerk off.”

As clinical as he makes it seem, even by sitting in the chair beside the bed, it’s hot as fuck.

While I’m nervous, he’s at ease. Like a man who knows what he’s doing.

His fingers run up and down my hole, then in a circle as he strokes my side with his other hand.

“I’m glad I cut my fingernails before I came over,” he says, and I laugh.

“You ready for a finger?”

I nod, and he slides his index finger—just the tip—in. This is much more exciting than when I was trying to do it to myself.

I close my eyes, relaxing into the sensation as he massages back and forth, subtle movements, lulling me into the experience.

I take deep breaths. It’s not a terrible feeling, but it’s not like the best feeling in the world either.

“I think I can do another,” I say.

Zane presses what I assume is his middle finger against the edge, making room.

I was expecting discomfort or uneasiness, but Zane is cautious, taking his time for my hole to make space for him. He’s able to get farther back, when a ripple of sensation shoots through me, a wave of heat and nerves radiating outward. “Whoa,” I say.

“There it is,” he whispers, watching my expression as he massages what I definitely know is my prostate, each stroke sending bursts of energy through me. Now I’m shaking, but not from nerves.

I close my eyes, rolling my head back against my pillow, letting Zane have his way with my hole as I get lost in the sensations rushing through me, Zane in total control of this experience.

“Another,” I beg. I just want more.

I hear him snicker. He must love how hungry I am for this, and fuck, he should enjoy it.

There’s the pressure of a third finger, and as he slips back to that spot, I find myself enjoying the combination of the pressure and those sensations as he teases my prostate.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I put my hand to my nipple, massaging like I sometimes do when I’m on my own.

“Do you like your nipples played with?” he asks.

“What? Oh, yeah.”

As I open my eyes, he says, “Here, let me.”

He licks the fingers on his free hand and then pinches them gently around my nipple, stimulating it and my prostate at the same time, working my body like he’s playing an instrument.

My dick is so hard, it’s fucking throbbing, and a bead of precum leaks onto my belly.

As another series of sensations takes me higher, I lock eyes with him as he tortures my body with his touch, driving my nerves wild as they spark all around. I grab my cock and stroke.

“Hey, no, no,” he says, almost as if panicking, which makes me stop. “Do you mind if I play with it for a bit?”

“You’re not gonna stop what you’re doing?” Now I’m the one panicking, not wanting him to stop his work that’s got my hips shifting with his movements as my fingertips buzz with sensation.

“I don’t have to,” he says with a smile. “Scoot closer to the edge.”

I obey, and he leans forward until his head’s at my crotch. His tongue runs up and down my cock.

“Holy fuck,” I say as he offers a steady, rhythmic series of strokes inside me.

I figure he might try to blow me, but he just keeps on like that as he applies more pressure to my prostate and nipple.

My body twitches and jerks in his hold, and he presses his lips against the base of my shaft, sucking along the edge, applying pressure with it between my belly and his mouth.

I can feel a familiar urgency pushing through me…

Right on the edge…

Every nerve in my body fucking activated…

“I’m gonna come, Zane.” He speeds up his mouth against my shaft and gives my prostate the extra caress it needs to send me over the edge, shooting across my stomach as I’m lost in a sea of bursts and jolts, twisting and contorting as I lose control of my body until I finally regain some of my senses again.

I feel more warmth on my belly and realize Zane’s licking up the mess I made, sucking until it’s all cleaned up.

With his fingers still inside me, he looks up, a trail of cum dripping from his bottom lip back onto me. He beams, wearing a cocky smirk, surely because he knows everything that just happened was his doing.

And I’m suddenly aware of what this interest in my ass was all about.

And why I was right to let Zane be the man who showed me exactly how good it could feel.