Boy Next Door Trouble

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In a way, it was all my fault, but I’m not sure how I could have known that at the time. I had just signed the lease on a brand new apartment, the first that I’d had to myself since I moved to New York five years before. It was a modest one bedroom in an up-and-coming part of Brooklyn. Nothing too special but it felt like a luxury.

After a few years working my up the advertising ladder I’d finally landed a big job at a similarly up-and-coming PR agency. My boyfriend of one year, Cole, had just been promoted to lead the engineering team at his tech startup. We weren’t quite ready to move in together, but we were definitely moving up in the world and it felt good. We’d met at a tech industry launch party and we’d been a complimentary fit right a way.

He was an engineer for a promising tech startup, I was working for an agency that did publicity and branding for startups. We both had big ambitions and we made a good team. Cole was tall and blonde, he’d grown up in the midwest, on a farm if you can believe that. But he wanted out so he taught himself coding, moved to Chicago and then New York. A real self-made success story. I was always impressed by his determination. I was a boarding school brat, my parents lived abroad during most of my childhood but they’d paid to send me to top schools.

I studied journalism and then slipped into PR when that industry started falling apart. I like to think I worked hard, but I know I’d had an easier road. We’d found each other at the right time, both coming up in our respective careers, both with a wide set of friends. The city, and dating, in particular, had been a struggle for us those first few years, but suddenly it all started to add up. We weren’t exactly a power-couple status, but that’s where we saw ourselves heading. If we sound like assholes…well that’s fair. But it seemed like everything was falling into place.

We agreed early on that monogamy was our thing. We’d both seen too many relationships fall apart due to cheating and jealousy. I had just finished paying the movers and had started to shift my furniture around the open living room. Unfortunately, Cole was out of town making a presentation in Chicago, so I was on my own for the heavy lifting. Still, it would be nice to surprise him with my fully furnished new place when he got home.

We had decided that it was too soon to live together, and his lease had another six months to go when mine ran out, but I figured he’d be spending plenty of time here. Besides, I wanted him to start thinking about the place we could get together. Glancing out the window it occurred to me that the place had one drawback. To get more space and no roommates, I’d traded in our old neighborhood and all of our old friends. My new spot was up and coming, but I didn’t have any local friends.

It would be great to have some people to socialize with and to show us the best bars and restaurants in the area. Of course, there was one way to find friends quickly, but I’m not sure Cole would approve. Opening up the app store I quickly downloaded one of the popular location-based dating apps that so many urban gay dudes used to find hookups. Most of these hookups never went anywhere, but a failed Grindr date could be a new friend. As long as I kept it clean, who could fault me for using the app to scout for some new friends.

I threw together a quick profile, scanned through the sea of headless torsos and hopeful faces, and left the app open on my desk. It was several minutes before I heard the ping that indicates a new message. I had almost forgotten about my little experiment already. When I clicked open the app the message that greeted me wasn’t one that you’d expect to change your life.

“Hey” was all that my mysterious correspondent had written. His profile revealed no information and no picture, but it was the distance that caught my eye.

Whoever my new friend was, he was less than 40 feet away.

“Sup?” I replied, remembering that standard app etiquette didn’t call for much in the way of conversational skills.

“You horny?” replied the mystery man. I realized suddenly that I hadn’t flagged my profile as looking for friends so no doubt my new potential neighbor thought I was looking for a hookup.

“Haha, no man. Just new in the neighborhood trying to meet people :-)” I replied, hoping to diffuse the situation quickly.

I was happy to make some new friends but I had no intention of cheating that day or any other. “No. You horny.” came the reply.

The assertiveness did pique my interest, odd given that I’m usually the dominant one in my relationships, but I chalked it up to a few days without seeing Cole. Before I could formulate a reply I felt the vibration of another message.

“You want me to come over?”

“Haha, not right now man. I don’t think my boyfriend would approve lol.”

“He there?” “Haha no.” I typed, not realizing at first that the laughs just made me seem nervous.” “You want it,” he said matter of factly, followed by a close up picture of his unzipped pants, bright green underwear bulging.

“You wanna taste it. You need it.” Something about his bluntness, the coarseness of his messages, I felt my dick start to harden in my pants.

There was no way I was giving in but the exchange was making so horny that I slipped my hands into my pants and gave my own seven-inch cock a squeeze, I was contemplating whipping it out to relieve myself when the next message made me freeze.

“I’m outside” Without thinking I jumped to the door, thankful it was still locked.

It was one thing to sext a neighbor on the apps and entirely another to have him show up when I’d specifically said no. I could only assume that whoever he was he’d seen me moving in and thought that showing up at my door would force my hand.

Fortunately, I had no intention of opening the door or even responding. Eventually, he’d just go away. But curiosity got the better of me. Without thinking I slid open the peephole and looking out into the hall. Sure enough, there was a young man standing quietly outside my door.

He was younger than I’d thought, barely 18 if that. He was slim, dressed in baggy jeans and a denim jacket. His thick hair was streaked with red, the remnants of a rebellious dye job. His skin was deeply tan. His face was handsome, with full lips and wide expressive eyes. Even though he couldn’t see me I felt like I was staring directly into those eyes.

“I’m here. Open.” He messaged again. His tone was so demanding, at odds with the young seemingly docile boy outside my door. It also occurred to me that having a strange young man, one who looked barely out of high school, loitering around my door might not be the best way to make an impression on my new neighbors.

What if he made a scene? Reluctantly, I opened the door, determined to defuse the situation. “Hey man,” I said smiling nervously. “Sorry about that. I didn’t expect you to just come over. Come on in.”

I waved him inside eager to get this whole thing out of public view. He stepped inside silently, seemingly taking stock of the place. “Look, man, sorry for the confusion. I’m new here, just looking to make some friends in the neighborhood.” I said, trying to sound assertive. “But it’s nice to meet you” I added awkwardly.

The kid’s quiet was weirding me out. “When’s your boyfriend back?” he asked, finally breaking the silence. I noted a bit of an accent, but couldn’t place it. Maybe Brazillian based on his looks and the neighborhood. I found myself pondering this for a moment before finally focusing in to answer his question. “Uhh, sometime next week. He’s away on business.” I said.

Even to me, my voice sounded vaguely dazed. For some reason, the kid was really throwing me off. Without even acknowledging my answer he reached down, unzipped his pants and pulled his green briefs down ever so slightly allowing his semi-hard cock to flop out.

It was nearly nine inches and clearly still only half hard. For a second a moved forward as if to stop him, but it was too late. I stared at him. This oddly confident kid, barely old enough to drive, standing in my half furnished living room, with his massive uncut cock bouncing.

“Taste it” he said simply. Suddenly, as I was moving in slow motion, I felt myself move toward him. Even as I was trying to form words and sentences. To tell him to put it away, get dressed, leave my apartment, I could feel my mouth opening. But no words came out. Instead in one smooth motion, I dropped to my knees and took his cock in my mouth as if I’d done it a hundred times before.

He tasted good, salty and a little musky from sweat. I swallowed as much as I could. His nine inches slowly expanded in my mouth, slamming into the back of my throat. I ran my tongue around the head, sliding my lips up and down the shaft. I hadn’t sucked a cock since college. Cole preferred to stroke himself. This was a totally different experience. I was rock hard, my cock straining against my jeans.

Without pulling my mouth away I fumbled with my zipper. Roughly pulling my cock free and stroking it furiously as a tried to swallow more and more of the kid’s massive dick. I felt his hands on the back of my head. His fingers alternately entwined with my hair and yanking my head back and forth as I struggled to swallow all of him. I heard him moan and knew that it was close. In my life, I had never once swallowed a load.

It felt not just too submissive but too messy. Seconds later all that changed as he slammed his hips forward jamming my nose into his untrimmed pubes and firing a volley of jizz into my waiting throat. A second load landed on my tongue as he pulled away. The taste was incredible, both salty and sweet. It left me with a fuzzy feeling, the same one that had come over me when I pounced on the kid’s cock.

It was so overpowering that I barely noticed I had shot my own huge load all over my hands. The kid looked down for a second, smiling. He caught my attention again with his eyes of his before slipping his phone into his pocket. Had he been recording that? Without a word shoved his still slick dick into his underwear and zipped up before picking up his backpack as if to leave. Still in a daze, it took me a moment to realize that he was headed not for the door, but for the window.

“Keep this open,” he said calmly before lifting the window and hopping out onto the fire escape. Before I could ask a single question he was gone, climbing upward it dawned on me to his own apartment window. My phone buzzed with a message from Cole. I could see it out of the corner of my eye. “Miss you. Chicago sucks. Can’t wait to see the new place!”

As I sat there, pants at my ankles, cum dripping from my mouth and fingers, in my barely furnished apartment I realized one thing for certain. I was in trouble.

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