Date: Tue, 09 Mar 2021 14:35:52 +0000
From: Tex Colorado <texcolorado@protonmail.com>
Subject: The Other Side of the Wall

The attached story is a one-off (well, a two-part one-off anyway). If you
have read my other series
(https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/a-more-perfect-union/), you
may have noticed that it has stalled out. I have gotten stuck in Delaware
(you'll have to read the story if that doesn't make sense), so to get over
the writer's block, I wrote what you see here.

Plot warning: If I can't be a participant, my second favorite sexual
activity is to watch, or in the case of this story; listen. That is the
theme of this first part. While there is sex happening, it isn't happening
to the protagonist. If this isn't tolerable, I understand. I hope that
you'll still give it a chance.


If you enjoy this new story, or want to talk about it or anything else,
please let me know at texcolorado@protonmail.com. I wrote it to get my
creative juices flowing, I'd love to hear if it gets any juices flowing for
you.

Disclaimer: The story that you are about to enjoy contains descriptions of
sexual relationships between adults and minors. If reading this is not
allowed for you for any reason, please stop now.

Please consider donating to Nifty at donate.nifty.org.

Thanks to everyone who has been so encouraging in my writing, I've loved
interacting with you and hope that you like this new story,

Tex


The Other Side of the Wall
by Tex Colorado
(M/b (10) oral, anal (audio only))

1

It was happening again. The sound was unmistakable, the rhythmic slapping,
the grunts and cries singing above the insistent drum track of the
headboard hitting the thin wall. It was striking just behind his head as he
lay in his own bed trying to sleep. He had work the next day, of course,
but that wasn't the part that disturbed him. No, the problem was this; he
knew that the vocal duo separated from him by a mere couple of inches of
cheap drywall were his ten-year-old neighbor and his caretaker.

It hadn't taken a lot of detective work, they made zero effort to hide the
activity from their new neighbor, whether they knew how clearly that they
were heard or not, he didn't know. But the reality was, they fucked like
rabbits and loved announcing it through shouts, squeals, groans and cries
of pleasure and pain.

Of course he couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe their lack of concern,
their lack of effort to conceal their lust and couldn't believe their
insatiably and stamina. He'd lay there night after night, the child
pleading for more, for harder, for doing it again, please. And every night
he'd be hard instantly, listening, caressing his own organ, dreaming,
wishing, sometimes even putting it into words that he whispered quietly to
himself, "Why not me?"

He'd lived a life of lies. Married for years but closeted and active with
other men, his true desire was for the younger boys. He first became aware
of these feelings for his peers when he was twelve, but they had really
been there much earlier if he could only remember that far back. At that
time it was his friends, the ones that he peeked at as they changed in gym
class or, even better, when they confidently stripped and displayed their
glorious young bodies to him, casually maintaining conversation as they
showed off their bare genitals, lingering before pulling their underwear
up, excited but not knowing why.

But not Curt. He knew. He knew why he felt this way, why his heart beat
faster and he got butterflies in his stomach. Maybe he didn't know it on
the most basic level, but he knew that it was boys that made him feel this
way, and never girls. And he knew this made him different. So he had
already accepted his status as someone on the outside when he realized the
fact that would move him farther away from normal, the fact that made him
keep a darker secret; as he grew, the boys that he desired did not. When he
was thirteen they were still twelve, by fourteen the boys could be as young
as eleven. Then, at fifteen, he started lingering in the locker room at the
pool during the summer, hoping to catch an uninhibited ten-year-old,
happily gallivanting around naked as the day he was born, blissfully
unaware of Curt's roaming eyes.

But he failed to pursue any of these boys, or anyone in possession of a
penis for that matter. In an attempt to appear normal, or not even trying,
just sleepwalking through life, he did the usual; dating girls and
eventually married. He loved his wife, and was as attracted to her as he
was to any other woman, which unfortunately could be summed up as: not
very. Despite his best efforts, he knew that he'd ruined her life. She
could be happy with any of a million straight guys, but she was stuck with
a closeted pedophile, one who was struck with fear every time that she
seemed that she wanted to get laid.

Five years in he finally broke down. He was on a business trip, and he met
a much younger man at the hotel bar. One thing led to another, and at a
much older age than would seem reasonable, Curt lost his homosexual
virginity. Then the floodgates opened. Free from his own mental
restrictions, he was utilizing Grindr, taking bigger and bigger risks, and
ignoring his wife more every day. This went on for five more years before
she finally left, or more precisely, kicked him out. That is how he ended
up in the shitty apartment in another city trying to pick up the pieces of
his life, but completely preoccupied by the rutting child whose appearance
he patiently awaited each night.

When the sounds appeared each day, the closing of doors, movement of items
on the nightstand and quiet conversation coming through the wall announced
the arrival of the lovers to him. At the start, Curt would press his ear to
the wall, wondering if that was a kiss that he heard? Was that moan
triggered by a tongue entering a mouth or was a penis being fellated by one
of the participants? As groans and moans grew louder, pressing his ear to
the wall became unnecessary, although he swore that he could actually still
hear the wet sounds of lips and tongues enveloping the other person's body
in some way.

And it always, ALWAYS, every single night, culminated in a quick, loud,
passionate anal consumption, the youngster calling the man's name, "Chris,"
over and over as he begged for more. It was close enough to "Curt" that the
man could image that the child was calling his name, and it was his cock
that was breaching the boy's tight anus, sweating and grunting as he laid
into the youngster, who only encouraged him. How would it feel? He could
imagine the tight sphincter like a smooth band around his cock, his insides
warm, yielding, "Yes, Chris, faster like that!" the child commanded, "Keep
going, cum inside me, do it, yes," he would sputter, until finally, their
coupling rose in a crescendo, the cries, grunts and moans finally peaking,
the man finally joining in on the verbalizations.

"Fuck, take it baby, oh my god, so good," he groaned, "you've made me cum,
here it comes!"

"Yes, do it, cum inside me, Chris!" the boy responded, but that's not what
was heard on the other side of the wall, there the cry was interpreted as,
"cum inside me, Curt!" and as the man vocally began to unload inside the
willing child, Curt was taken over too, his cock lurching as his semen shot
again and again, painting his belly with his own cum. His chest was
heaving, mixing with the audible breathing from next door, smacking lips
accompanied by giggles and groans as the lovers calmed until the one time,
every night the same, that the man said the sweet child's name. In the
wonderful afterglow, he whispered, "Stuart, that was wonderful."

In Curt's room, he allowed himself the one whisper that he uttered every
night, "Oh, Stuart," he whispered, careful not to be heard before drifting
off to sleep, dreaming of a warm companion in his bed, the same one who now
settled in to sleep only inches away, but a world apart.

2

He wasn't his father. He wasn't his guardian either, that meant lawyers,
Chris had explained. When they met the new neighbor, Stuart had come up
with the word "caretaker." The reaction was one of confusion, but they
didn't know what else to say. The truth was messy and simple at the same
time. Chris dated Stuart's mom briefly. When she disappeared three weeks
ago after promising that she wouldn't be gone too long, they knew what had
happened. She wouldn't abandon Stuart, she did love him, but the small part
of self-discipline that she retained was to disappear when she was on a
bender. It wasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last. Stuart hated the
drugs, hated that they took her away, and knew that he would be different.

So who was Chris to him now? He called him "Chris," not, "daddy," or any
other term of endearment. He loved him but wasn't in love with him, but he
knew, this kind man was the best thing in his life. Was Chris bad because
of the things that they did in bed at night? Not to Stuart. He had been the
one who couldn't get close enough to the handsome man. He was the one who
would touch him, rub his back, caress his face and feel the stubble of his
beard. "I like when you smile," he would say when Chris gave him a warm
look from some gentle touch that the boy had bestowed upon him.

For Stuart, all of it was encompassed in one word: fun. The sex wasn't
about love or a reward for taking care of him. It was about the young boy
having fun, seeking the pleasurable feelings that only increased with each
new activity. That's how it progressed; pressing tight to Chris while they
watched tv, touching him carefully, exploring the more innocent parts of
the man, until he asked to join him in his bed because he was scared. Not
knowing why, Stuart slowly pressed himself against Chris's leg, sliding
himself back and forth, eventually closing his eyes as his tiny stiffy sent
new sensations throughout his body.

It wasn't long before they shared a bath, on Stuart's request of
course. This led to the obvious, "yours is bigger," "can I touch it?" From
there his education accelerated. His vocabulary was stretched with all
kinds of new words, each one more exciting than the previous; dick, cock,
butthole, balls, boner, jerk-off, cum, blowjob, 69 and finally, fuck. It
hurt, it definitely hurt. But it was also the single greatest thing that he
had ever experienced, and he wanted to do it over and over again. Not for
any other reason than that it was so much fun. The fullness and, the hurt
than still felt good, it was the best as far as the child was concerned.

Chris told him that he couldn't tell, which wasn't a problem. With a drug
addicted mom, you quickly learned how to keep secrets. At first they had to
be quiet. They played in the family room and in Stuart's bedroom. Then
Chris had made the suggestion, use his room. It was in the corner of the
building so no one would hear them this far from the hallway. This change
of procedures was a godsend. Their enjoyment increased tenfold as any last
inhibition was gone, announcing to the empty room their joy, their
pleasure, their passion.

Of course, Chris was wrong. Well, he was right for two of the walls, but
overlooked an important design feature; his headboard butted up against the
neighbor's bedroom. Since the apartment had been empty before Curt moved
in, Chris had never heard any sound from the other side. Curt's minimal
furnishings hadn't made enough noise when he moved in, and he never had
reason to be loud in there. So while Chris thrust away with unworried
abandon into the small boy, Curt was listening to every incredible sound.

They had met once, the boy and his friend exiting their apartment as Curt
was entering his. He already knew at this point what went on in the privacy
of their own home. This knowledge made it hard to meet the man's eyes. Curt
didn't object to their activities, they were more than obviously
consensual, but how do you pretend not to know that the people in front of
you engaged in a nightly activity that could send the man to prison? Of
course, the man and boy had no way of knowing this, so cheerily greeted
Curt and welcomed him to the building.

It was the boy that used the word, "Caretaker," to describe the man. He
searched for it briefly, because, uniquely, it was the assertive boy who
did the introductions, "I'm Stuart, this is my...uh...my caretaker, Chris,"
he had said, then looked at Chris with a questioning look, sensing that he
may have misspoken.

The man just smiled kindly and said, "Nice to meet you."

The boy's voice was so familiar to Curt, only he was used to it being a
couple of registers higher as it yelled out words that were incongruous
with it's sweet, innocent sound. The number of times that he had heard that
sweet tone yell the word, "Fuck," were beyond counting. Seeing them was
like seeing a radio personality for the first time, although much less
disappointing. Chris was handsome and young, too young to be the boy's
father. Although in this neighborhood, teen pregnancies made that not
necessarily true. He was probably in his mid to late twenties, fit, about
six feet tall with dark features and a kind face.

The boy was much smaller than Curt had imagined, something that made acting
natural all the more difficult. As he stood momentarily staring at the tiny
child, imagining this large man being with, well let's not go for
euphemisms, the large man fucking him, he was stunned into silence,
resetting his image of what was going on in the unseen bedroom. Stuart was
probably less than four and a half feet tall, he was cute, not in the
stunning, beautiful way that some boys were to Curt, but sweet, with
glimmering brown eyes that sparkled with excitement and energy, brown hair
that had been allowed to go a little too long without a haircut, and a
slender build, although still with a bit of baby fat just perceptible under
his clothes. It wasn't a surprise, but Curt was instantly smitten.

"Hi, I'm Curt," he had finally squeaked out, shaking Chris's hand, then
turning toward Stuart as the boy offered the same. Taking his hand in his
own, he couldn't stop the dirty thoughts; this hand has been wrapped around
this man's cock, probably lightly touched his chest as they copulated, "Hi,
Stuart," he said with as much confidence as possible, "it's nice to meet
you."

The boy just smiled, something about the new man appealing to him, before
they walked down the hall and Curt entered his apartment. "We'll have to
have you over for a `welcome to the neighborhood' beer," Chris said as they
walked away.

"Sounds great," Curt responded eagerly, "anytime." Knowing what he did
about Chris, he wondered if he liked adults too, or was this just a taken
opportunity. He wasn't sure, but he felt like there may have been something
unspoken as they sized each other up.


3

The scenarios that ended with one or both of them in his bed began to grow
in Curt's mind after that meeting. But it was at least two weeks of pining
to be included as he listened again and again to the two of them before he
saw them a second time.

It was a Sunday morning, and Curt was settling in to watch some football
when he heard a knock on the door. Expecting no one, when he saw the
hallway empty through the peephole, he decided that it must have been
someone leaving a flyer or going to the wrong door. Halfway back to the
couch he heard it again. Seeing the same, he slowly opened the door to
investigate, and revealed a sixty-five pound bundle of energy shifting from
foot to foot as he stood outside the door, just out of sight of his
peephole.

"Hi, Stuart," he said cheerfully, "what can I do for you?"

"You remembered my name!" the boy responded in surprise. If he only knew
that the name had been on his lips through many orgasms.

"I guess that you're memorable," Curt offered weakly, but the child bought
it and smiled at the apparent compliment.

"Chris wanted me to ask if you wanted to come have a beer and watch the
game?" Stuart told him.

About to do the same alone, Curt jumped at the opportunity, and followed
the boy next door after his offer to bring anything was shot down, "No,
Chris said that he's got enough to eat and drink in case you asked."

When they entered, Curt was immediately surprised by how much nicer and
better maintained the apartment was than his own. Not knowing anything
about these two, his imagination had led him to believe that it would be a
dingy, child-molestor's lair. In reality it was bright and cheery and made
Curt feel uneasily, like his own sparsely furnished place probably looked
like a pedophile's hiding place. Chris was sitting on the couch in front of
the tv and welcomed Curt in. "It's Stu's mom's place," he replied when Curt
complimented him on the apartment, "she deserves the credit." That may have
been true, but there was no sign of her and he knew that these two had
lived there alone since he moved in, so Chris was at least keeping it up.

"Come on, I'll show you my room," Stuart blurted out, grabbing Curt by the
hand and pulling him along with him, Chris laughing at the boy's
eagerness. When they opened the door, it was a very well-kept, little boy's
room; racing themed, toys neatly lined up, clothes hung nicely in the
closet and a small twin bed with a racing car bedspread. The bed was made
immaculately, tucked in so tightly it would be appropriate in a military
barracks.

Knowing that the bed had not been slept in for at least three weeks, Curt
focused on the neat appearance just to watch the boy squirm. "You must have
known that someone was coming over to have made your bed so well this
morning."

Stuart's face went blank, then he piped up with a story that he had
apparently been trained to repeat in case someone asked about sleeping
arrangements, "A lot of times I get scared and sleep in Chris's room," he
told Curt, not offering that he slept in Chris's bed, which the man guessed
was intentional, "that's where I slept last night, so I didn't have to make
the bed this morning."

Pressing it only slightly further, Curt said, "It's nice to share someone's
bed, that's something that I miss about being married," then added the
kicker, "Chris must be really happy that he has you to keep him company in
there," not letting the implication that the boy didn't share the actual
bed to fly. Stuart let it go, but smiled again at the idea that he was
doing something nice for Chris.

"Let me show you Chris's room!" he commanded, then pulled Curt along, never
having let go of the man's hand. As they passed the main room, the two
bedrooms being on opposite sides of the apartment, Chris chuckled at the
excited boy before they disappeared into the man's room. Here Curt stopped
and stared; this was the bed. It was made in a more hurried manner, the
comforter drawn up loosely over the pillows, the throw pillows in a pile in
the corner. This was a slept-in bed, and Curt was now able to picture them
together, he would now be able to see the scene in his head as his
neighbors carried on in the room next to him. He looked toward the child
who held onto him and the boy just smiled warmly. He felt like the child
was reading his mind as he pictured the couple writhing on the bed.

Returning to the main room, they settled in, Stuart sitting close to Curt
and pressing against him. "Careful, he's a snuggler," Chris joked, and
Stuart played the part by digging his head into the crook of the man's
arm. It was wonderful and stressful at the same time, this cute, cuddly boy
who he knew enjoyed having sex with a man was rubbing up against him, but
he had to pretend like he was oblivious, and, most importantly, he had to
stay soft! He replied, "I like cuddly boys," then immediately regretted the
strange statement. All three of them sat briefly in awkward silence.

Then Chris lightened the mood, "Then you'll really love this guy," he said
cheerily, "he'll never leave your side." Curt only laughed lightly in
return but was afraid to say anything, worried about stumbling again by
saying something incriminating.

With Stuart glued to his side as advertised, the two men got to know each
other. Curt got the backstory on Stuart's mom, Chris alluding that it had
been a quick thing that was already over when she disappeared. His love for
the boy made him stay. He hadn't taken any legal steps because she had
asked him to stay with Stuart, and according to the boy, this was never
permanent. But he was starting to worry, and knew that the time would come
that he'd have to figure out the correct thing to do. Finding out the
situation made sense to Curt, because he felt like he probably had ten
years on Chris, so it didn't make sense that he would be in charge of a
ten-year old.

It also turned out that Chris was intelligent and had a decent job. The
relationship with Stuart's mom made zero sense, but he wasn't going into
that can of worms. Not only was it a strange fit personally, but Curt
sensed a bit of an attraction between the two of them. Knowing what went on
in the apartment, Chris being gay, and not just an opportunist or an
exclusive pedofile wasn't really a leap. It was all a little strange, but
so was listening to them every night, and he really liked both of them.

They had a great time, Curt being from a different city actually hated
their team, who he considered a rival, but he had little love for their
opponent, so cheering along wasn't too difficult. They chatted, drank,
laughed and really enjoyed themselves. The whole time Stuart allowed
himself to become more and more familiar with the new man. Curt was a
handsome guy, and Stuart seemed pleased to trace his finger along the man's
forearm, touch his face, commenting on his rough stubble, and continually
scramble onto his lap, causing Curt to have small heart attacks and think
of old women in order to stay soft.

Several times he thought about admitting what he knew, and really, why not?
But he just couldn't do it, maybe feeling too silly about being a complete
voyeur. Or maybe having this opportunity finally fall into his lap,
literally, he had stage fright and couldn't make the leap.

After several hours and a victory by the good guys, Curt excused himself to
head home, thanking his hosts, and taking one long, lingering look at both
of them before heading back to his apartment.


4

Shortly after returning home, finally able to let himself sport an
erection, Curt decided to go into his bedroom and work on relieving his
overworked libido. No sooner had he plopped down on the bed and freed
himself of all clothing when he heard the unmistakable sound of his
neighbors voices.

"Come on, let's do it," came the pleading voice of the young boy
loudly. Curt was surprised that they'd be doing this in the early evening,
he'd never heard them start at this time of day. He quietly sat up and put
his ear to the wall.

"Somebody got a little excited having company," came Chris's voice in a
sing-song, fake making-fun-of way, "I think that maybe you wish that he was
here with you instead of me." With his head against the wall Curt was able
to hear the boy giggle in response, "I knew it!" Chris joked
triumphantly. "Plus, you know that he `likes cuddly boys'!" Curt cringed at
the thought that his weird comment was remembered, but heard Stuart chuckle
good naturedly.

"You liked him too!" Stuart accused right back.

"I wouldn't kick him out of bed," Chris responded causing Curt to gasp and
wonder if his ears were deceiving him. Did he just hear both of them say
that they liked him "that way."?

"See!" Stuart announced, catching him in the same situation, "Now, come
here and play, I'm horny!" he ordered, the sound of that word sounding
comical in the little boy's high voice. How could someone so young even
understand the concept?

"How about we pretend that I'm Curt?" he heard Chris propose, followed by
more giggling from the boy.

"Ok, then come here and kiss me," Stuart ordered.

There was a pause, then finally, "Who do you want to kiss you? Me or
someone else?" he egged the young boy on.

"Come give me a kiss...Curt!" Stuart finally answered and the sound of bed
springs creaking as the man must have jumped at the boy once the correct
request was offered. Curt could hear their smacking lips, heavy breaths and
groans as they made out. This was short-lived when Stuart said, "Suck my
dickie, please."

There was a pause again, then finally, "I'm sorry, I'm not sure who you're
talking to?" From Chris.

"Oh man!" the boy cried in frustration, "suck my dickie, Curt!" he
screamed, finally caught up on the game. "Oh, yeah," he could hear the boy
moan, "that's it Curt, lick the tip, that's what I like."

In his bedroom, Curt was almost hugging the wall, savoring each sound as
the neighbors role played using him as ammo. Cupping his hands around his
ear against the wall, he was able to make out the slurping of Chris's lips
on the boy's cock. Curt was mesmerized, imagining the scene, imagining the
boy's incredibly hard cock and how it would feel gliding across his own
lips, the fantasy all the more clear after spending the afternoon with
them.

"Lick my balls, Curt," a calmer Stuart ordered in a huskier voice, "Chris
doesn't lick my balls enough, I bet you're better at it than he is," he
teased.

Chris's chuckle was audible before he answered, "Oh yeah? I'll show you
some ball licking," followed by a wet slurping sound immediately followed
by a gasp from the boy.

"Oh, yeah, Curt, take `em all in," Stuart said, no longer joking as he
enjoyed his scrotum being worshipped, "that's the way I like it, keep
going." This was followed by a conversational pause as the boy groaned
through the ball-sucking amid the popping sounds of the boy's mini testes
being alternately washed with the man's tongue. "You really are good,
Curt," Stuart continued, "but you know what Chris really doesn't do
enough?"

A loud slurp was followed by a laugh as the man freed the boysack from its
warm home and asked, "No, what doesn't he do enough?"

"He doesn't lick my bottomhole enough," the boy replied, "I like to be
licked down there."

"Well, Chris told me that as soon as he starts, you start begging him to
put his cock in you," the man narrated.

"Maybe he needs to do a better job," Stuart joked.

"It sounds like he does too good of a job," the man answered, "but I'm
happy to give it a try. I bet your ass is delicious." There was a brief
pause, then Chris observed, "I can tell that someone has been here before,
your hole is puffy." Curt had to cover his mouth to keep from responding,
knowing that the man was parting the child's cheeks and staring at his
secret star.

This was followed by a sound of ecstasy that was completely out of place
from the high pitched voice that uttered it, "Ooooh, yeah," he groaned then
drew his breath between his teeth with a hiss, "that feels awesome, yeah
dig inside, that's better than Chris, he never tries to get inside," the
boy egged the man on. Curt could hear a deep chuckle from the other room,
but no other response from Chris, who was obviously happy to follow
directions. This left Curt to imagine; what would it feel like to press his
tongue into the center of the boy? How would it feel to have the wrinkled
rubber-band of his anus clamp around him as he opened the child up,
preparing him to be penetrated? Savoring that hairless little hole, eager
to stretch to accommodate the man.

"You like that?" Chris asked, giving his tongue a break, "You opened right
up, baby," he said, "it must make it easy for Chris to fuck you."

"It is," Stuart said cheerily, "and it's time to put it inside, "I'm
ready."

"You are," the man answered, confirming the dilated status of the boy, "but
first you need to get me nice and wet." Then Curt heard two slaps against
the wall right by his head and realized that Chris had his hands there,
above the boy's head, inches from his own ear, as he fed the boy his cock.

"It's so much bigger than Chris's," the boy said with a giggle before
making an audible "mmmm" sound as his little mouth was filled with his
lover's penis.

"Oh, man kid," Chris moaned, "you're an amazing cocksucker. Chris sure is
lucky to have you."

This was followed by a muffled, "Mm, hmm," stated around the man's cock.

"Here," the man told him, "lube up your pussy for Mr. Curt," and he heard
the sound of a plastic bottle top flipping open.

There was wet smack of lips and Stuart asked angrily, "Do you want to fuck
a boy or do you want to fuck a girl?"

"I wanna fuck this sweet boy," Chris replied.

"Then I don't have a `pussy'," Stuart informed him, "I've got a penis and a
butthole, if you want a pussy, get someone else!"

Chris laughed, "Sorry, sexy man, will you help me by lubing up your
beautiful little butthole?" he corrected sweetly.

"Better," Stuart determined, before the sound of the man re-entering the
boy's mouth were obvious. They carried on in silence, only groans and wet
sucking noises accompanied by the occasional grunt from the boy. Curt
imagined that those grunts were self-inflicted as the child did as he was
told and fingered his own asshole to slick it up to be fucked. Finally he
spoke again, and clearly ordered, "Enough," breathing heavily, "I'm ready,
put it in Curt, please!" he begged.

"How do you want it?" Chris asked, "how does Chris usually fuck you? On
your back or on your hands and knees?"

"Both," Stuart replied with a naughty giggle, "but I want to be on my back
so that you can kiss me," he requested.

"Ooh, because you loooove me?" Chris joked as Curt could hear motion on the
bed, the springs groaning as they moved into position.

"Maybe," Stuart answered, "you're very cute and very nice." Curt wasn't
sure if he was talking about him or Chris.

Chris must have had the same thought, "Are you talking about Curt?"

"Mmm, hmm," Stuart answered then cried out, "Ah!" as the man must have
breached the most private of openings, "oh, jeez, it's big, Curt, man,
mmph," he was cut off by the sound of lips meeting and muffled
moans. Normally Curt would be laying in bed stroking at this point, the
neighbor's lovemaking so loud that he didn't need to work so hard to hear
them, but today he kept himself pressed to the wall, hearing every
syllable, slap, grunt, squelch and squeak as the boy pretended that it was
Curt that was sliding into his rectum. He could hear the grunt and
expulsion of air as the man slid his full length inside the boy. There was
silence, except for the sound of their lips. They must be pausing to let
the boy grow accustomed to the intrusion, Curt imagined Chris rocking his
hips, pressing into the boy who lay on his back, legs spread, maybe holding
the man's butt to pull him in as they kissed the whole time. Or was he
holding the inside of his own thighs, helping to keep his legs wide apart
to give the man room?

Finally the first knock of the bed into the wall and a second, "Ah!" from
Stuart as Chris withdrew then entered him fully again. "Oh, Curt," the boy
said with a cry in his voice, "do it, oh," was all that he could utter when
another thump hit the wall and the boy cried out again.

"You like me fucking you?" Chris asked in a demanding voice, "You like
Curt's big cock in your hole?" he added.

"Yes! Oh please!" the boy cried in response, "I like it so much," he
groaned, the sound of his sweet voice contrasting with the mature
concepts. The beat against the wall quickened as Chris sped up his thrusts,
the pair grunting and moaning through their efforts. Curt tried to imagine
how it would feel to be inside of Stuart, pleasing the boy while taking the
ultimate pleasure for himself. Their volume was such that he finally felt
comfortable that he wouldn't miss anything if laid on the bed and got
comfortable as he jerked himself off.

"Do you really want him to fuck you?" Chris asked out of breath, dropping
the role play for a moment.

Stuart was grunting as the man's cock repeatedly plowed into him, his balls
loudly slapping against the boy's ass, but finally shouted out, "Yes, I
want it!"

"When?" Cris asked, "For real." The rhythm slowed as he waited for his
answer, Curt stopped his own activity to listen.

"Don't stop," the boy demanded, "tomorrow," he blurted, "he'll fuck me
tomorrow after school!"

The thumping increased slightly, but didn't have the pace as before, "And
if you fall in love with Curt, will you still let me fuck you?" Chris
asked, and all of the sound stopped.

In a much softer, calmer and more mature sounding voice, the boy answered,
"I'll always want to do this with you," then begged, "now please start
again!" There was a loud bang against the wall accompanied by a guttural
sound from the boy. Then the pounding against the wall resumed at a rapid
pace, the child squealing with delight at the resumed activity.

"Are you going to dream about him doing this to you tonight?" Chris asked
haltingly, the effort of his plunges translating into his voice.

"Mmm, yes...all night," the boy answered sensually between thrusts. Curt
almost had a heart attack picturing this boy asleep, his small penis hard
as a rock as he dreamed about being with the man next door.

"Will you think about him when you're in school?"

"Ooh, yeah!" Stuart answered excitedly, "I'll have a boner all day," he
added sensually.

"Fuck...yeah you will," Chris said almost to himself as he pounded into the
child, "Will he cum in your ass or in your mouth?" he panted.

"He'll cum in my bottom, you cum on my face," he commanded.

"Will I be there too?" he asked.

"Now, tonight, I want you to shoot all over me," he ordered assuredly, Curt
groaned as he imagined painting the little boy's face and chest with his
hot semen. He could picture the button nose, the cheeky smile as his cum
rained down onto the child.

For his part, Chris just groaned at this request, and the rhythm got faster
and faster. The man was grunting as he seemed to be slapping into Stuart
with ever increasing force, the boy reduced to a series of moans before
finally panting, "I'm getting the good feeling."

Chris urged him on, "Keep stroking sweetie, cum for me, oh god, you're so
fucking hot," he told him, the pace never slowing, "You're gonna make me
cum!" he shouted as his peak approached. Curt was stroking furiously,
himself reaching the edge as the lovers went to another level with their
incredibly passionate fucking. Right as he was about to lose control, Chris
announced, "Oh god! Oh I'm cumming!" and a flurry of movement could be
heard, Chris most likely pulling out of the stroking boy and jerking
himself over the prone child.

"Yeah, cum on me!" the boy urged, his voice cracking with effort, "it feels
good," he told Chris, apparently referring to his own approaching
climax. His words were followed by a bellow and groan from the man, then an
"Ahk!" from Stuart as the first shots hit him, Curt imagined it going right
across the boy's nose and that image did it, his body lurched and he felt
his climax hit.

As Chris gasped with each eruption, no doubt covering the boy, Curt was
busy covering his own stomach with cum as he shot the first blast up to his
chest, stifling a cry. Then as the second and third contractions hit him,
he heard a sound that only comes through the wall once or twice a week;
Stuart "getting there". "Oh!" the familiar plaintive cry as his baby orgasm
hit his little cum-covered body, "Hoh...oh, uhng," he grunted as he flew
over the peak and his animal brain took control of his senses and he jerked
and twitched through his dry cum, Chris finished unloading, his breathing
audible as he gulped for air, recovering from his climax.

Curt was finishing, matching the spasms of his ejaculation to the tiny
boy's, the most exciting thing that he'd ever heard. When he finally calmed
down and regained his senses, he listened carefully, and was rewarded with
the sweet sound of soft kisses as his neighbors sighed, giggled and moaned
through their after glow. Curt lay right where he finished, unable to move,
thinking that this was one of the best sexual experiences of his life, and
he hadn't even participated!

Finally aware of some muffled talk, Curt pulled himself up slightly to get
closer to the wall. "Are you sure?" he heard Chris say, "because I know
that he'll want to do it."

"Yes, make it happen," the boy replied. It was then that he heard his
phone, laying on the nightstand, vibrate. Curious, he picked it up and read
the message:

"Hey, it was great having you over today, Stuart really liked you!

So, I'm sorry to take advantage of you right away, but I have a meeting
tomorrow right when Stuart gets home from school. Is there any chance that
you could watch him from 3:30-5:30?"

Curt stared at the message. Even though he knew that it was coming, even
though he had heard the plan, it didn't seem real until right now. He
started typing:

"I'd be happy to", he answered, resisting the exclamation point that would
have really expressed how he felt.

He heard rustling and muffled words, then the boy saying, "Yes!" like he
just scored a goal.

Then the text came:

"Great! He'll come right to your place after school. I just told him, he's
really excited to spend time with you!"

Barely able to breath, Curt typed his reply:

"Let him know that I'm looking forward to it too...

I'll see him tomorrow."