The Guy Next Door

Chapter 10

10

ZANE

I can feel him dripping down my chin.

It felt so good to have my lips against his cock, my fingers deep in him as I teased his nipple with my other hand, feeling his body vibrating with pleasure as he shot.

And tasting him… I almost feel guilty that, of all the meals he’s made me, this one was the best.

I started off in his chair, feeling so in control, but now I’m hunched over, like a monster devouring his cum; although, he doesn’t seem to mind. He watches me as I thumb my chin and slide it into my mouth, savoring the last drop.

“No. You kept insisting I was straight.”

I’ve never been so happy to be so fucking wrong.

My mind’s spinning, my cock stiff as a brick.

“Did you want to get off?” he asks.

Of course he would ask. So fucking considerate. So fucking kind. So fucking Leif.

“I’m glad I didn’t bust my nut while I was doing that.” Because I was getting close. “You don’t mind?” I ask.

He’s the one who suggested it, so why am I asking for permission?

Maybe I’m waiting for him to realize we made a horrible mistake and tell me to get the fuck out of his house.

“Do I look like I mind?” he asks with a chuckle.

I rise back up, unfastening my belt, when I realize I’m still wearing my jacket. That’s probably why I’m sweating like a motherfucker. I unzip it and tear it off, discarding it on the chair before dropping my pants and my underwear.

He sits up, his eyes fixed on my cock.

“And here I thought you were asking selflessly,” I say, “but you only wanted to see my dick.”

“Can’t I want both?” he asks with an adorable laugh, before adding, “That’s very big.”

“You surprised that a guy who’s five-four can have a cock like this?”

He chuckles again, his face turning red.

“Really? I just had three fingers in you and that’s what makes you blush?”

But, fuck, I love that I made him blush.

For once, I’m not the most awkward guy in the room.

I lean over to the nightstand and snatch the lube. I’m about to squirt some for my cock, but I hesitate. “Unless you wanted to try something else new? See what it feels like between those beautiful lips?”

There’s a flash of something I haven’t seen when we started messing around: worry.

“Forget I said that.”

“No, maybe.”

“Nope.” And I already have lube on my cock, stroking. “If you want to do something with my dick, there’s not gonna be any hesitation. You gotta beg for it.”

“You get very bossy when you’re horny.”

“So I’ve been told.” He watches me jerk my cock. “God, that’s such a tight hole. Thank you for letting me have it.”

“You’re welcome.”

Thinking about sticking my dick in there is enough to make my hips rock, and a jolt of energy rushes through my pelvis.

“Do you want to come on me?” he asks, his expression full of curiosity.

“What did I say?”

“Please come on me, Zane,” he says quickly, like he thinks I’ll take the offer off the table as fast as when he was too uneasy to tell me he wanted my cock in his mouth.

I snicker. “That’s much better. Where do you want me?”

“Where do you want it?”

“On that pretty face.”

And now he’s wearing a big grin. I feel like we want the same thing.

“Close your eyes. I don’t want to get any in them.”

He relaxes on his side, propping himself up on his elbow and closing his eyes.

I walk, my jeans still locked around my ankles as my knees hit the side of his mattress.

Seeing him so eager to have me on him sends another ripple of energy shooting through me, and I growl as my cum bursts out in ropes across his cheek, a little shooting onto his nose.

“Yes, just like that. Just like that,” I say as my hips rock and I release the last bit of cum on him.

“Fuck yes,” he whispers, and as I come down, sensations bursting through me in waves, he opens his eyes, gazing at me with a satisfied expression.

“Thank you,” I tell him.

“Thank you .”

“Now that was hot, but let’s get that off your face,” I say.

I walk with my jeans still around my ankles to the bathroom for a towel. After we clean up, Leif slides back into his jeans. Doesn’t even go for his shirt, which suits me fine.

“I think you definitely gave Kyra something new to look at,” I tease.

He glances at her cage. “Oh fuck. I could have at least covered her.” He plops down at the foot of his bed.

“Why are you sitting down? I came over here under the impression I was getting fed.”

“And I fed you.” Oh, the way he’s smiling, he fucking loves how clever that was, and I’m living for it.

He must be able to tell that now that I’m coming down from my climax, I’m ten times hungrier than when I arrived because he hops up and heads for the door. We go downstairs and he preps plates for us, still shirtless as he serves me a bowl with salad.

“Once we’re done with this, I’ve got spaghetti with meatballs, fresh parmesan, and garlic bread.”

“If you tell me there’s dessert, I’m gonna have to marry you.” I regret the words as soon as they escape my dumb mouth. “Sorry. I didn’t… That’s a weird joke.”

“I’m starting to get that that’s kind of your thing,” he says as he finally settles in the seat on the other side of the table. “I’ll try to keep from picking out rings prematurely.”

This is another thing I like about being around this guy. Makes me feel like my brand of weird is a nonissue.

“But yes,” he goes on, “of course there’s dessert.”

Yes. Of fucking course there would be.

I start on the salad, struggling to recall the last time I had a meal with courses in it.

“So…I’m an asshole for assuming you’re straight. Cis white gay male privilege, I suppose.”

“If you’d asked me a few weeks ago, that’s what I would have told you.” He digs his fork into his bowl and takes a bite of salad.

I enjoy a bite too, realizing quickly there’s no way this guy got this dressing from a bottle.

After a few bites, I notice he’s smirking and watching me again. It reminds me of the way he looked at me after I lapped his cum off his abs.

“What? Do I have dressing on my face?”

“No. I was just thinking how you’re all awkward regularly, and then we get to messing around, and suddenly you’re all bossy and telling me I have to beg for it.”

“Oh…that. Yeah. I get caught up in the moment.”

“I can tell. I like it.”

Is it just me, or did his eyes sparkle under the room light? That had to have been in my head.

“That is a very big dick, though. I was anxious enough about fingers, and then I see that… It makes a guy nervous.”

“I don’t think nervous is what any of the guys I’ve been with would say.”

He chuckles, but I can see that same curiosity in his expression, like he had before I was standing by his desk, stunned by the image of the sex toy in his trash bin.

“But enough about my cock. I want to hear about your hole,” I say before taking a bite.

“It’s very happy,” he reports. “I’m pleased to say I didn’t have any reason to be worried about trying to get something in there, and also, when you touched my prostate, I was like, oh my fucking God, I can’t believe I never tried this before. Reminds me of the first time I ever jerked off, like, how hot my face got and the way it activated every nerve in my body.”

“That would be why people are into it.”

“Definitely not gonna have a problem trying that toy out now.”

Or you could try my fucking dick next.

No, I’m not saying that. Just be cool…so the total opposite of everything you know.

“I’m glad you let me play with it first. Think you need to know the difference between a toy and the human touch.”

“Clearly, you know what you’re doing. I assume you’ve messed around with a lot of guys.”

“I guess that’s subjective. But there were some periods of time before I was on meds where I’d have manic episodes and didn’t know what was happening, and my sex drive felt out of my control. I had this compulsion, and I’d get on apps. Don’t really regret any of it, but just felt like I was on autopilot, doing what my body needed me to do. So I put in my hours, if you know what I mean.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you share something that personal.”

“I wouldn’t have shared it if I didn’t want to.” I like sharing things with him.

He takes another bite of salad, then asks, “Have you been with girls?”

“No. Never. I pretty much knew when I was younger that I liked guys. But I’m guessing that’s not true for you.”

“First crush I had in school was a girl, and it was like, painful. Didn’t know what to do with my feelings, they were so intense. Really, it’s a very new thing for me.”

Why do I love that as much as hearing that I got to be the first to play with his virgin hole?

“So I’m basically responsible for making you bi-curious?”

That catches his attention. “You like knowing that?”

“Yeah. Strokes my ego,” I say before taking another bite.

“Well, maybe when my parents come home, we can try something like that again, but at your place because we won’t be able to get away with that here.”

I’m staring at him again, and he notices. “That’d be nice,” I say. “I have plenty of other things I’d be happy to show your hole.”

He’s practically glowing as he chews some of his salad, and given we came not ten minutes ago, I’m shocked at how hard I am again.

“Also makes my job watching you that much easier.” I figure I might as well put it out there, since he must be thinking it.

“You are a strange one, Zane.” The way he says it, with that smile across his face, I can tell he fucking loves it.

After we finish our salads, I offer to get my own plate, but he insists, so I let him serve me again. His meatballs are as good as everything else he’s made me so far, and I practically lap up the meal like I did his cum. And when we’re finished with dinner, he pulls out a tiramisu from the fridge. Not even that hungry after everything we’ve eaten, but I don’t want him to think for a second that I don’t appreciate this, so I don’t leave a trace of it on my plate.

“That was all…incredible,” I tell him, licking my spoon.

“Thank you. Was the tiramisu over the top? I considered something simple, like cookies.”

“You already know I love your cookies, but this tiramisu was pretty spectacular.”

“I love a compliment, so thank you.”

“Is that a way of fishing for more compliments about your glorious hole?”

“I mean, it wasn’t, but I’ll accept that too.”

I laugh. “This has been nice.”

“To get a break from watching me for a change?”

“Maybe finding a new way to watch you.”

But there’s something else on my mind, a burning question I can’t shake. “Speaking of watching you, you haven’t posted on social media in a while. Used to put a lot up about the culinary program you were in, and on Insta you’d have the dishes up. You were clearly very proud.”

“Yeah…”

“Did that stop after things started going downhill?”

He nods.

For the first time since we messed around, his expression turns serious. And just like that, I sucked all the fun out of the room. It wasn’t my intention, but I want to know him…really know him, the good and the bad.

“Yeah. That was before…” He hesitates. “The psych unit.”

“But you still love cooking. Obviously.”

“Yeah. Even when I was at Georgia State, I was making stuff. I’d get through with classes and then I’d hit the gym, then the grocery store, and head back to the dorms to get to work. I shared a dorm apartment with three guys, and they had plenty of friends. They’d chip in to cover the food, and it kept me busy, but I was happy doing that. Then…it got rough, and before I knew it, I was struggling to get out of bed. Nothing felt exciting anymore, especially not that. Really hard to know that the one thing I could always count on just…felt empty.”

It reminds me of our conversation about our mental health, about those moments when our minds turned on themselves. Knowing what a struggle it was, I hate that anyone else had to go through shit like that too.

“I’m glad to see it’s not that way anymore.”

“Me too. I used to be a lot more active, and not only with that either. I’d go out to parties with friends. I was in a few clubs. Then I came home after the mental-health facility, and I was in such a fog. I remember going to the library and looking at book covers just to do something…anything.”

There’s a rush of adrenaline, my body alerting me I need to probe. “Which library?”

“Chelsby Hill, over near Hamlet Mill.”

“Really?” It’s the first connection I’ve made to Mike since Leif and I started chatting.

Could be nothing. It’s a small city. There were likely plenty of places Mike and Leif could have frequented, and I wouldn’t know it. No need to make a big deal.

But now that he’d said it, my gut instinct can’t disregard it, even if the connection was only in my head. I don’t bring it up to Leif, though. No need to freak him out over what’s probably nothing.

I quiet that voice inside me, fearing it’s the same one that wanted me to hound Mike’s poor teacher.

Although, a creeping fear tells me it isn’t.

And that I have work to do.