Date: Sun, 25 Jun 2023 02:52:26 +0000
From: Vincent X <bonebrotherman@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Recluse Next Door (Gay: Adult/Youth, Rural, Beginnings)

This story is for Rick, thanks for all your support.

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This story is fictional and contains depictions of sexual acts between a
minor boy and an adult man. If this is not for you or not allowed for you
to consume, please do not continue reading and leave this site.

---

"This is completely unacceptable" my mother hissed, almost frothing at
the mouth, as she looked over the fence in our back yard. What had
earlier been a relatively well-kept lawn with a few trees and flowers,
was rapidly turning into an overgrown, yellowing field of tall grasses,
small trees and weeds.

My mother kept our garden very tidy; she had a large plot for growing
vegetables, a small potato patch, in addition to a very impressive
selection of flowers and shrubs, all surrounded by well-kept lawn. The
stone paths made the whole setup look like it could be on the cover of
one of her many gardening magazines. We lived on the end of a long road
in a very small town, with only one other house visible from our house:
Our neighbor, my mom's new enemy.

Our house and our neighbor's house were originally part of one of the
farms in town, and in the forties two of the younger sons in the family
on that farm, who would not inherit the land, were given these two plots
where they built identical houses after returning from the war. None of
them ever married, so they lived up here next to each other for the rest
of their lives. Rumor among us kids in town was that the brothers were
gay, with each other, a story always told with the accompanying gleeful
"eew!", etcetera. I found that rumor very enticing, though. I could sort
of feel it in the walls of our house, that these men lived up here all by
themselves for decades, and could do whatever they wanted.

They both died in the early eighties, and my mom bought our house just
before I was born in the spring of 1984.

The other house was not sold, but used as a guest house of the nephew of
the two brothers, who was the current owner of the farm they came from.
He kept the plot tidy and nice, and there was usually no one there except
around the holidays and for a few weeks in the summer. This was perfect
for my mother, who liked two things: Peace and quiet. Oh, and gardening,
of course.

In early 1997, the house was put up for sale, which we learned from the
ad in all the local papers. The word on the street (litterally, one
street in our town) was that the farmer who owned it was strapped for
cash and needed to capitalize some of his assets. A few weeks later, a
red Volvo was parked in the garage next door. The door was left open, a
bad omen for my mom, who considered any open door into a messy space an
affront to her personally. Now we could see the car, some tires, a barrel
of oil and a messy tool bench every time we went up to our house.

No sign of any new neighbor, though. The curtains were closed, and lights
were off, for the most part. We could see some movement inside, but that
day in early spring when he moved in, just before my 13th birthday, our
new neighbor was a mystery to us.

My mother of course immediately assumed that this neighbor was a messy
slob, not being able to close his garage door. And she also did not like
the fact that someone was clearly in there but did not come over to
introduce themselves.

"Seems suspicious to me" she frowned, "probably running a drug business
or something!"

She huffed and puffed all day that day, and kept looking out the windows
to see if she could get a glimpse of anybody, or if some of the curtains
were pulled back so she could look inside. I looked too, because I was
curious. I thought this was so exciting.

Now almost two months had passed. Still, all curtains were closed, and
our new neighbor had not introduced himself. He had gone out to the car a
few times, so we had caught a brief glimpse of a relatively small man who
looked to be around 30, with dark hair and a mustache. His mailbox was
marked with a name in white paint, written in very neat and tidy letters:
HAINES GREGORY. He never shopped for groceries in town, and the newspaper
on his front doorstep was taken inside stealthily without us ever
noticing. His car was sometimes gone for a day or three, before suddenly
returning, always during the night. And as you can imagine, he did not
mow the lawn or tend to his trees and flowers. So here we were, my
mother's joy and pride ruined by the wilderness just across the picket
fence.

I did however not share my mother's anger or frustration. Our neighbor
had sort of become my new obsession these last few weeks, because there
was something I found completely enthralling about him, and his
mysterious ways.

My bedroom was in a dormer on the third floor, and had a large window
facing my neighbor's house. My mother's bedroom was on the other side of
the house, facing the fields, and the house next door was identical, but
mirrored, so that the dormer on his third floor was directly facing my
bedroom. I had noticed that even though all of his curtains were always
closed, there was an unmistakeable activity in the room corresponding to
my bedroom, and a blue-ish light reminiscent of a TV sometimes escaped
the closed, dark curtains. This made me assume that he either had his
bedroom there with a TV, or an office with a computer that he worked on
late at night.

I had just turned 13, and as I am sure you know, boys that age are often
obsessed with their dicks. And I was, probably even more than most other
boys. I took every opportunity to beat my meat, several times a day, and
sometimes even several times in an hour, if I had the chance. I also
loved showing off, I had an OK body for my age, taller than most other
boys and relatively fit, and my dark hair and olive skin made my mother's
Italian heritage apparent. I tanned very easily, and in the summer I
never wore a shirt unless my mother threatened to slap me if I didn't
make myself presentable for company.

Although I now sported a thick black patch of hair under each of my
armpits, and started to get a visible black trail on my stomach, I loved
playing the role of young kid being clueless about the body, especially
if we had company. We had no family nearby, but my mom had a friend group
consisting of herself and two married couples. I called them aunt Bridget
and Uncle Ray, and Aunt Kirsten and Uncle Larry. Bridget and Ray had a
daughter that was five years older than me, and Bridget and Larry had no
kids. When they were visiting, I loved just accidentally and cluelessly
showing off to my mom's friends, just as if I was still six. I would
change right in front of them, say good night wearing only a pair of too
small briefs, that kind of stuff. Then I would go to bed, beating off
furiously, thinking about the expressions on my "uncles"' faces as they
could not help but stare at my nice body. I was positive that Larry had
to adjust himself as I showed off like that on more than one occasion,
and that was a big turn-on for me.

But it was weeks and months between each time my mom hosted a
get-together, so now I was glad that I had another way of showing off: I
had decided to start exposing myself to our mysterious neighbor. As I
went up to my room every night, I checked if I could spot any activity in
the room opposite mine. Most nights the flickering, pale screen light
could be seen around the edges of the curtain, and some movement betrayed
the fact that someone was in there. If that was the case, I would keep
the lights on in my room, stand up right in the middle of the window,
undress completely and masturbate. The first few times I was a little
nervous and so turned on by the riskiness of it all that I came within
seconds. But as the weeks went, I started being very elaborate, making
sort of a show out of it, and as my thick load erupted, I tried catching
most of it in my hand, eating the sweet tasting load hungrily.

I didn't really know if he had ever noticed me doing this, but this
Friday night, as my uncut teen dick, who had not been washed properly for
a few days, squirted out a particularly musky load, I was sure I could
see the curtains move in a way that could only mean someone was peeping
out of them. The cum stunk from being mixed with my dick cheese, so
instead of eating it, this time I gently rubbed it on my torso, making my
fine, black hairs stick to my skin by the fishy adhesive. I took a few
extra moments in front of the window, as my throbbing dick diminished and
dripped. I just stood there, making sure that if he was looking, that he
would get a good show. I was about to end the scene by lifting my arms
and smelling my armpits, a sweet, sweaty smell that most boys in
mid-puberty know and are freaked out by, but I just loved the scent of my
growing body and the fact that I was sure that a man was sneaking a peek
at me so much that I got hard again and shot another load in a matter of
a minute or two. This time I almost collapsed, and my dick ached and
pounded with every heartbeat. I raised my hand as if to say "see you
tomorrow" through the window, and went to bed.

The next morning my mom woke me up early.

"Jesus Christ, Vincent, crack a god damn window, it smells like a public
toilet in here" she yelled, as she herself opened the window completely,
letting a fresh stream of early summer air into my room.

"I have a client meeting up in Leighton today, I'll bring back dinner
around six, or maybe more like seven, because I have to stop by the
office when I get back" she said in her usual, slightly annoyed tone.

"Please do NOT leave a mess around the whole house, and do not start
cooking on the stove, please. There is plenty of bread, and some yoghurt
in the fridge. The ice cream in the freezer is for company, do NOT eat
it, because I think Bridget is stopping by tonight and I want to have
something to put on the table if she does."

She picked up some of my scattered laundry as she spoke, and was out the
door just as fast as she had entered, in a cloud of irritation, stress
and general Italian stereotype. I heard her shouting as she descended the
stairs:

"Love you, honey, don't make a mess please! You know, the weather is
lovely, you could go for a bike ride or something", her voice growing
ever fainter as she walked away.

Seconds later I heard her entering the car and leaving. I stretched and
yawned, annoyed that she had woken me up at what I now realized was 7:45
on a fucking Saturday morning. But I could feel the slight ache from my
double nut last night in my groin and lower abdomen, and I really, REALLY
had to take a piss, so going back to sleep was out of the question. I got
up, still completely naked from the night before, and went over to the
open window. It was a big, square window, the kind that had hinges on the
side and opened outwards like a door, and it went from just above my
knees to a little over my head. As I stretched and blinked the sleep grog
out of my eyes, I was surprised to see the unmistakable slight movement
in the curtains of my neighbor's house again, the one from last night. I
immediately woke up completely. Was he really watching me? Maybe he had
heard my mother being very mother-y through the open window?

An idea hit me, and I just went with it. I had ten or eleven hours by
myself today, so I just decided to do whatever I felt like, as long as my
mom could not prove anything. So, I went all the way over to the open
window, and let the painful dam of piss in my bladder burst onto the red
shingles on the roof below the dormer. It was a great feeling of relief
as my stream of smelly morning piss hit the warm roof, and trickled down
into the gutter below. I looked over to the other house to check for any
more evidence of someone watching, but since it was now daylight it was
much harder to tell. I did not see any more movement, but I still decided
to again raise my hand in a sort of "see-you-later" way as I left the
window.

As I went to look for something to put on, I decided to just fuck the
running shorts all together today, and I put on a pair of underwear that
I hadn't worn for a while. It was a gray pair of boxer briefs with a
pattern of colorful cartoon cars. They were not too small per say, as I
could comfortably fit them around my small waist, but these were clearly
kids' briefs where the pouch was not sewn to fit a cock and balls able to
produce sperm, so my junk could barely fit inside. A few of my pubes
showed where the elastic in the front were pulled down by my no longer
childish dick. And on the sides of my crotch the fabric barely touched my
skin, because it was stretched out by a member that had grown
significantly since I got this pair at probably nine or ten.

If my new neighbor had indeed been watching me, I decided that I needed
to increase my exposure as much as possible. So, I made myself a plate of
sandwiches and went outside to the patio to eat them, still wearing
nothing but my briefs. The patio was on the ground right below my window,
and the morning sun hit it from the east, making it a perfect spot for
eating breakfast. I didn't sit at the table, but positioned myself in one
of the sun chairs, making my whole body visible from the other house. I
ate a whole plate, trying all the while to see if there was any sign of
life behind the dark curtains, but nothing. I went inside to put my plate
in the dishwasher, brought back a can of Pepsi and positioned myself
again in the sun chair. Was that a small flicker in the fabric of the
first-floor curtain?

I almost fell out of my chair as two loud clanks resonated between our
houses: It was the mailman closing our mailboxes with a loud metallic
sound. I was completely caught off-guard, but as I looked over like a
deer in the headlights, the mailman just smiled and raised his hand in a
friendly wave as he hurried off on his bicycle. He probably just thought
I was sunbathing in my swim trunks.

I got up to get the mail as I was surprised again: I heard the front door
next door open up. I stopped instinctively, almost like I didn't want to
scare a wild animal, as the modest figure of our new neighbor emerged to
get his mail.

He was not super short, but about my height, and while I was sort of tall
for 13, it was on the shorter side for a grown man. He had a messy head
of brown hair, and a dark, well-groomed Dallas mustache. He wore a tartan
flannel robe that he closed with a knot as he left his house. Underneath
it looked like he wore a tank top, but he was barefoot and pant-less, as
his dark-haired calves were clearly visible under his knee-length robe.

I considered for a second what to do, I was completely taken aback by his
sudden appearance. Then, after a few seconds, I concluded that this was
connected to the fact that he had been watching me and knew that my mom
was away. I decided to just play it cool and continue over towards our
mailbox, as if I, too, was simply getting the mail like nobody's
business.

He stopped before he got all the way up to the mailbox and turned towards
me. He reached his right hand over the picket fence towards me to shake
my hand, a cautious smile on his face. I walked up to him and shook his
hand. His grip was a bit on the weak side, his hands were smaller than
mine and a bit clammy.

"Hello Vincent", he said in a melodic, dark and quiet voice, "or maybe
you prefer Vince? My name is Haines."

"Vince is fine" I answered, trying to hide my confusion that our
mysterious neighbor suddenly was talking to me. "Nice to meet you! I
reckoned Haines was your last name", I gestured towards the mailbox.

"Oh, yeah, I see how you would think that" he laughed nervously. "But my
last name is Gregory. People have confused that many times before." He
smiled, but looked a little uncomfortable

"Haines is a cool name, never heard it as a first name before" I said,
trying to make a bit of ordinary conversation.

"I am sorry that I haven't introduced myself before", Haines said, almost
interrupting me. "I really have to get back inside, but I was wondering
if you could do me a favor? I need help with a few things that I can't do
myself, and I'll pay you, of course"

He opened his mailbox, got a couple of envelopes from it and closed it,
looking a bit stressed.

"Sure, I'll help if you need me to" I tried to look calm and comforting
facing a man who was clearly very uncomfortable.

"Would you come inside, we can talk a bit there?" he asked, looking
around like he was being watched.

Had he been a bigger or more imposing figure I might have been a bit more
cautious, but my 13-year-old brain did not at all register the immediate
danger I potentially could be putting myself into, following an adult
stranger to a second location. But I was so excited to meet and talk to
my recent obsession that I immediately agreed to come with him.

As he let me in the front door, it was as if a burden was lifted off his
shoulders immediately, and he seemed much more relaxed.

"Thank you for coming inside, Vince, that was very nice of you" he
smiled, as he closed and locked the front door behind us.

"I am locking the door now, but please do not feel like you are not
allowed to unlock it and leave at any time." he assured me, looking like
he was figuring out how to explain something.

"OK, that's OK" I said, puzzled but curious.

"I have a condition of sorts, I get very anxious in open spaces, anywhere
I can't see a ceiling or walls around me, it makes me freak out" he said
with a sadness in his voice.

"I also really hate talking to people, especially more than one person at
a time" he explained.

"Oh..." I was trying to process this information. I had never heard of
such a thing, only mentions of shut-ins and hoarders, and they were
usually old and super crazy, but Haines here seemed calm, pleasant and
not crazy at all.

"Yeah, I know... Weirdo, right?" he said disarmingly, with a soft smile

"Um, no, you seem nice enough to me" I swallowed. Suddenly I was very
aware of the fact that I was wearing a small pair of children's underwear
and nothing else.

"Well, inside the house I think I'm pretty OK, where I can think clearly"
he said, continuing through to the living room. It was strange, the house
was identical to ours, but mirrored. It was also completely differently
"decorated", if that term could apply.

The large living room and kitchen area faced the same way as ours, but
the windows were covered by dark curtains. The living room was completely
empty save for two plastic lawn chairs and a mattress, and the kitchen
table was completely occupied by a huge computer with a big monitor, a
salad of cables cascading down to the floor and into several separate
outlets. Dirty plates were scattered around the floor and counters, and
there were only a few small table lamps, so the whole area was very dimly
lit, it took a few seconds getting used to, coming from the bright
sunlight.

"You seem like a helpful guy" Haines continued, "so I was wondering if
you would take on a job for me as a personal shopper of sorts. You see,
it's a huge hassle for me to go grocery shopping and errands, so I was
thinking maybe I could make a list and you could bike into town for me
like once a week or so?"

"Sure, no problem" I assured him. I was trying to adjust my eyes and nose
to the dark and stuffy environment. The house had a distinct body smell,
not really stinky, but very stuffy and musky.

"As I said I'll pay you, of course, because this would help me out in a
big way. I was thinking maybe 75 dollars a week? And double that if I
need something more than twice?"

I almost choked, that seemed like a fortune to me at that time

"Umm, yeah, I can definitely do that" I said again.

"Money is no issue, so maybe we'll just call it an even 100." He smiled,
probably noticing my dumb 13-year-old face getting astonished by the
prospect of earning 100 dollars a week.

I noticed that the knot on his robe had slipped as we entered the house,
and it was now open.

"I work on something called web development, want to see? I earn a good
living, never having to leave the house".

I had heard about the internet, but it was more of a distant rumor still,
especially in our remote town.

I was curious, and nodded.

"Come upstairs to my office", he gestured for me to follow him. I noticed
that he was wearing a tank top with a huge stain on the upper chest. He
seemed to have a bit of chest hair that poked out over the top. It was
not very easy to make out in the dim light, but he seemed to be wearing a
very loose pair of briefs, like the old fashioned kind. I could not make
out anything of his bulge, but my cock certainly stirred, being alone
inside this house with this mysterious man.

We entered the room that was the equivalent to my bedroom. In here he had
a big desk with three monitors on top, an expensive-looking office chair
and many empty bottles of soda, wine, liquor, plus a huge number of used
paper cups, some with a little coffee still left in them. Clothing items
and trash were scattered around the whole room. By the window, that was
of course covered completely by thick curtains, I was surprised to see a
monocular mounted on a tripod, so that the end just peeked through the
edge of the window covering.

My host sat down by the computer and pressed some buttons. A series of
sounds reminding me of some deranged birdsong followed, and then he
swiveled around.

"So, I am working on this news site, I think in a few years we will see
that most people go on the web to get their news" he smiled, leaning back
in his chair. He casually put his left hand under his waistband and
scratched himself, making that stubbly sound that scratching your pubes
will inevitably produce.

I couldn't help but look for a second. A small stripe of his abdomen was
visible because he had to pull his shirt up to get to his waistband. He
had a soft belly, even if he was definitely slim, he was not fit. But his
hairy stomach turned me on in a way I coulnd't explain. In the sharp
light from his three monitors the state of disrepair of his briefs was
much more apparent. They were nasty, clearly piss stained, and most of
the left side had come loose from the waistband, making a two-inch hole
along the hip.

"And this is my office, I spend most of my time in here" he smiled, and
gestured around the room. He was clearly making sure that I had noticed
the monocular.

"It's nice" I said, even though that was maybe the wrong word. But I did
really like how honestly unkempt it was, and that he clearly made no
effort to hide that he was a messy pig.

"Do you work all the time, then?" I asked.

"Well, I work a lot at all hours of the day, but i make sure to take some
time off, too" he said with a loaded tone.

"From around ten to twelve every night, that's my time off" he smiled and
winked.

"I usually go to bed around ten or ten thirty" I smiled back

"Well, I've noticed you coming up to your room sometimes" he said,
scratching again, pulling my eyes down to his crotch once more. He was
clearly packing, the bulge was not small, especially compared to his
relatively short and slender frame. He was also clearly not a trimmer,
there were thick, black hairs sticking out everywhere around his crotch.

"Oh, really? Well, I hope I don't bother you by keeping my window open" I
answered, my dick now pressing against my  too small briefs

"No, not at all" he said, now with a slight raspiness in his voice, "it's
nice to have a feeling of life and joy around, especially in my
situation. You have given me... a lot of joy these last weeks" he almost
whispered, licking his lips as he let his eyes fall down to my crotch.

"A lot of pleasure, too" he added. My dick tented the car-briefs to their
limit, and I felt compelled to walk over towards where he sat in his
chair. As I approached, he reached out both of his hands, and with a
swift motion he grabbed the waistband of my briefs and ripped them right
across first the one leg, then the other, making them fall to the ground.
My now freed cock sprung up as if to greet its new friend

"No one can see into this house, so I would very much like it if you
don't feel like you have to wear anything" he panted, before opening his
mouth and taking my whole cock into it, almost gagging as I hit the back
of his throat. The soft, warm sensation was so good that i had to pull
out after just a few seconds, as I wanted to keep this going a little
longer.

" Did I hurt you" he asked with a puzzled look on his face

"No, I just almost came already" I panted as I tried to calm my throbbing
dick down

"Oh, but you can cum if you want to, wherever you want" He smiled
devilishly.

"And I really want to taste your milk, boy, because it looks so delicious
when I see it through your window"

He got up, and led me towards the window, leading me to the monocular,
and I looked through it. My bedroom window was perfectly framed in the
monocular, and you could clearly see even the titles of the books in the
shelf by the door. Where I had pissed this morning had left a very faint
mark on the shingles.

As I looked, I could feel Haines pressing up against me, rubbing the
dirty fabric of his underwear up against my still un-showered ass. I
turned around and cupped his cock through the fabric, it was a little
bigger than mine and rock hard. He had produced a wet, slimy spot around
the tip of his cock.

"Do you wanna taste me, boy, my dirty weirdo cock?" he whispered
breathily into my ear, and I nodded. He dropped his robe on the floor,
pulled his tank top up to reveal his soft, extremely hairy torso, and I
dropped to my knees, pulling his briefs off very gently, to reveal a
thick and quite big uncut cock nestled in a messy patch of pubes, the
foreskin was very long and did not retract even in this rock hard state.
I put it in my mouth and caressed it with my tongue, licking around the
head and sticking my tongue inside the trunk of foreskin. A pissy, salty
taste filled my mouth, like the smell of unwashed cock.

"I want you to cum first" he said, pulling out after just a short while,
breathing very heavily.

" What about at the same time?" I suggested.

"No, you can go again before I can" he rasped. "Put your boy cock into my
dirty ass and give me your delicious slop, let your sicko neighbor help
you drain all of your boy seed" he rambled as I got up and he bent over
the desk, spitting on his fingers, lubing his hairy asshole.

I gently pressed against his hole, and with a plop it went inside and I
was surrounded by a warm, tight sensation that compelled me to thrust
further, which made him moan very loudly. After litterally five or six
thrusts in could feel the inevitable coming on, and I just stiffened as I
entered an orgasm so powerful I lost all sense of time and space.

"I can feel your cum filling me up" Haines moaned, as he reached for my
hand, pulling it towards his cock and placing it there just as sperm
started streaming from his adult, hairy cock, colleting in my palm.

"Don't pull out" he moaned, as his prostate orgasm violently milked my
boy cock completely dry. What seemed like half a cup of thick, white cum
had collected in my palms i caressed the tip of his throbbing cock
gently. I slurped the gooey stuff up and tasted man cum for the first
time. It tasted delicious.

We just stood there, my cock not really getting much softer inside his
ass, both of us panting.

"Glad you would like to help me out, boy" Haines said. "You'll get the
first week's pay today, and we'll talk about a raise soon, because I have
a feeling you'll be of great value to me".