Date: Wed, 8 May 2019 18:52:40 +0000 (UTC)
From: fmhar1969@aol.com
Subject: Neighborhood Slut, Chapter One

Nifty Archive  "Neighborhood Slut"  {Rob}  Authoritarian (MM oral)

Some of you may have been reading my other two stories: "The Fireman's Son"
and "Born to Serve."  A week or so ago my ancient computer "gave up the
ghost" and I'm trying to learn how to use this devilish, unforgiving new
one. I'm hoping the computer geeks can save something from my old hard
drive, otherwise I may be totally lost with respect to those two
stories. TFS is in its 53rd chapter and BTS, which I've just started on is
in the 3rd.  I hope that I will be able to continue them, but right now my
brain/memory is at a total blank. I don't even know how to restart the
chapters I was working on.

While I've been sitting around moaning and drinking old Scotch my "dirty
mind", as one of my readers called it, started thinking about a new
scenario. At the moment, I don't have any idea how it might play out or
anything about its future, but I'm going to play with it, and maybe I'll
submit it to Nifty.

I'm going to write this story in the first person, BUT THERE IS NO TRUTH TO
IT!  The entire story and all the characters are figments of my dirty
imagination.

The story is copyrighted to me 2019

Please donate to Nifty. Without financial support from all readers Nifty
can't continue providing the exciting stories to us.

Neighborhood Slut Prologue

I'm a seventy-year-old gay man who has kept myself in reasonably good
physical shape. I had a successful professional career, which allowed me to
retire at a fairly early age. In my mid-twenties, after I finished college
and post-graduate studies, I became very active in the bar-one-night-stand
milieu in the large city where I grew up and studied.  I was up for just
about anything. During these years I sometimes played the role of a
demanding top to satisfy the desires of some extreme subs. One time, at the
request of one of my bottoms, I fisted him.

When I was about 28, I got fucked for the first time. It was not good. One
night I was fairly drunk and went with a good-looking, aggressive black man
about my same age. I had met him before in connection with my work. I can't
accuse him of rape because I went with him willingly knowing what he
wanted, but the encounter was definitely "bam, bam, thank you, ma'am"
without the "thank you".  A few days later I was in the office of a surgeon
recommended to me by a close gay friend. After I was healed from the
surgery, the good doctor, to whom I am forever grateful, showed me with his
very large dick during several post-operative office visits that anal sex
could be very pleasurable. After that I was about equal bottom-top.

At age thirty, I moved to Washington, D.C., where I was involved in the
Federal Government for a number of years. While there, I had many
interesting experiences and learned to love being a bottom, but I never
experimented with dominance-subservience.

After a number of years and a couple of changes of administration, I moved
back to my home town.  In my forties I was pretty active.  I began seeking
out more aggressive tops and paying muscular, masculine dancing boys to
fuck me. At one point, for several months I had a hot sexy Latino stud with
a big cock who would show up at my townhouse at one or two in the morning
wanting to fuck me for money. I had actually chased him down the alley
until I could approach him! The fucking was usually done with me spreading
my legs and bending over to touch the floor while he stood behind me and
roughly fucked my ass. After a few years of this wildness, I calmed back
down.

I retired, and live in the inherited house where I grew up. I have a few
close gay friends, some going back to pre-Washington days, but most of the
people I know are straight. I'm an "old bachelor" who uses his age and
health to shield him from most straight male-female social contacts! My
neighborhood is an up-scale area where many of the houses have been torn
down and larger ones built. Young families have moved in. I am surrounded
by babies and kids, some now teenaged, whose daddies, ages late thirties to
early fifties, are, for the most part, very attractive.

Chapter One

The house across the side street from mine sold recently and the new owners
are a youngish couple, mid-thirties, with a small child. The man, Roger, is
very attractive - handsome face, 5'10 or 11", dark hair, nice build. I
talked to one or the other of them briefly several times when they were
moving things into their new house before the actual movers arrived.  An
older man, in his mid-fifties, was with Roger a couple of times. He was
introduced to me as Frank, Roger's father. He was an older version of his
son, a little taller. Whereas Roger was usually dressed in shorts and polo-
or T-shirts that clearly showed off his muscular chest, flat stomach and
strong hairy legs, Frank was usually in khaki slacks and sport shirts that
still gave a pretty good indication of a well-maintained body underneath.
Both father and son showed interesting bulges at their crotches. A couple
of times, Roger had on shorts that suggested he was "commando" with a nice
elongated bulge dressed to the right.

We have block parties a couple of times a year, and I usually go. I don't
have a lot in common with my neighbors, but everybody is friendly. I am
usually introduced to new people as the "oldest resident," which gets the
conversation going as I explain that I may be the "oldest" but I am
definitely the person who has lived on the block the longest, having grown
up in the neighborhood.  I enjoy getting to talk to and, especially, look
at my male neighbors. I have watched them and their children grow over the
years – a little thinning of the hair - attractive salt and pepper –
a little thickening around the waist, but almost all of them were still
attractive active men; soccer players, runners, golfers, tennis players,
etc., and there are several little boys who have grown up to be hot high
school and college jocks. All in all, it is an interesting group of men to
fantasize about.

At the last party, Roger and his wife came up and spoke to me. They
introduced themselves, and I said of course I remembered them from when
they were moving things in. I asked about Roger's father and we talked a
little. Shirley drifted off to talk with the women, but Roger stayed with
me. I pointed out to him that there were three different beers available on
tap and said I was going to try another one. He didn't have a glass, but
said he had already had a couple and was ready for more. We went over to
the "bar" and I refilled my glass and he filled a fresh one.

We stood together enjoying our beers and comparing the two we had. He said
he had already drunk a glass of the one I was drinking and we talked about
its character and flavor. When we finished them off, he suggested we try
the third together. I was thrilled to continue talking and drinking with my
hunky new neighbor and was beginning to feel the effects of my third glass
of beer. I was also enjoying looking, discretely I hoped, at the prominent
bulge in his crotch. He wasn't going commando, but there was no missing the
size of what was packed in his snug shorts. As we talked and drank,
deciding we needed to retry the first one, I noticed his hand going from
time to time to his crotch and seeming to be rearranging what was in
there. Of course, I looked and hoped he didn't notice.

His wife came over and said she was going to run some errands and would be
back home in a couple of hours. She said she might drop in on one of her
girlfriends while she was out. She told Roger not to drink too much and
left. After gathering their little girl from the group she was playing
with, they walked to the car parked in front of their house and drove off.

"She won't be home `til supper time. When she and Alicia get together, it's
an all afternoon gab fest," Roger said with a laugh.

We continued to talk and drink. Several men came up to us from time to time
and joined in the conversation. I introduced Roger to any he had not
already met. He seemed to know most of them. Ahmed, a tall good-looking
Muslim I had often thought about while jacking off, imagining the thick,
long Arab cock, that of course I had never seen, hanging down from his
forest of dark hair that ran up to his navel and on to his furry chest as
it hardened and stood out from his lean body, came up with his tall
dark-haired sons, one a senior in high school and the other in college. I
remembered them as cute boys playing around the neighborhood. Wow! two more
Arab studs I could fantasize about standing before me with their father
ready to plunder my mouth and ass with their big, dark cocks!

Another one who came over was Martin. He was an avid soccer player who
played in a serious league.  I often saw him coming in tired and sweaty
from a long run – "Gotta keep in shape if I'm gonna keep on playing." He
was an attractive blond who was going a little thin on the top, but had
plenty of blond fuzz on his broad chest and rippling stomach. He had a
great personality and was friends with everybody.

In between breaks in our conversation, I told Roger I had watched their
house being built, and that the first owners, a young couple, had added the
swimming pool. He said it was a nice pool, but the previous owners had let
the back yard go and they were going to be doing some replanting and other
things to make it more of a place for entertaining. They were going to
enlarge the deck area around the pool and have a covered cooking area
built. As we drank another beer, I said that sounded nice, that I would
love to see it when they finished.

Roger told me he owned an investment company and needed to do a lot of
entertaining of his clients.  "Anything to keep them happy," he said with a
grin as he groped himself a little longer than he had done before, glancing
around to see that no one else noticed. We were standing over to the side
and his back was mostly turned toward the rest of the crowd.  "You want to
come over and I'll show you what we're planning on doing? Like I said, the
wife won't be home for hours."

I said, "Sure! I'd love to see it!" What I meant was I'd love to see the
cock that he had been continuously groping, and I was pretty sure he
intended to show it to me. I guess I hadn't been as discrete as I thought!

We said goodbye to the sort-of host and hostess - the party was centered in
their front yard. – and others as we walked to the corner. He said, "The
house is a mess. The wife would kill me if she knew I let you see it. Go
around to the alley and I'll let you in the gate."

`Mysteriouser and mysteriouser' I thought hopefully as I walked to the
alley. Just as I got there and started to turn in John, Roger's neighbor
across the alley, came out of his driveway and said hello. John is a tall
good-looking man who has been very nice to me in a neighborly way. He has
two boys who have been growing up in the five or so years since they moved
in. They were just little kids. The older one is now playing, I guess,
little league baseball. I've only seen him leaving with his dad in his
uniform, the front showing a nice little bulge caused, I assume, by the cup
he is wearing in his jockstrap and his round buns emphasized by his tight
pants, carrying his backpack with a bat sticking out. (I wonder if he's
learned what his "bat" is for? But not for me to find out.) I'm also always
hearing basketball noises from behind the eight-foot fence that surrounds
their back yard. I said, "Hello" but kept walking. Roger was standing at
the open gate when I got there, and we went in.

"Who was that," Roger asked.

"Your neighbor John across the alley. He's a nice guy.  I'm sure you'll get
to know him."

We walked up toward the house and Roger started pointing out the things
they planned to do: pulling out out-of-control shrubbery, breaking up and
expanding the deck area where the plantings would be taken out, cutting
down two trees on the side of the house where the cooking area would be
built. He suddenly stopped explaining the changes. "These shorts are really
tight! They're choking my cock and balls!" he said as he began to unbutton
the front and pushed them down to fall on the ground revealing white cotton
briefs barely containing the big lump of cock and balls the shorts had been
holding in. "Whew! That feels good! You don't mind, do you?" he asked as he
gave the now freed lump a long grope with his big hands.

I had plopped down in one of the chairs that were on the deck when Roger
started opening his shorts. "Uh...No...No problem."

"I didn't think so," he said with a sneering grin. "I'm sure you won't mind
if I peel out of this shirt too," as he pulled his polo over his head and
dropped it on the deck beside the shorts.

"Fuck!" I exclaimed as I sat gaping at the sight in front of me. My new
neighbor standing in only a pair of tiny white bikini briefs riding so low
on his hips that I could plainly see the top of his dark pubic bush as it
spread out from the treasure trail that ran down the flat surface of his
lower belly from the indented navel that was surrounded with a halo of dark
hair before it ran up his six-pack abs to fan across his well-defined
chest. I just stared at the luscious sight with my mouth hanging open.

"That might be a possibility some other time, but now, you want a feel?" he
said as he moved toward me. "Go on! Feel it! You've been drooling for it
all afternoon. In fact, you've been wanting' it ever since you saw me and
my dad moving things in. We both noticed it! He said to me, `Son, I think
you've got a hungry queer across the street,' and he was right, wasn't he?"

All I could do was nod and reach for the alluring bulge that I could see
was getting bigger and bigger as we talked.

"Yeah, Dad can always spot a queer. He taught me how when I was in junior
high school. It sure made it easy for me to get my rocks off whenever I
needed some relief. No need to mess around trying to get a girl to put
out. Just had to pick a hungry queer, schoolmates, older high school
studs. They all wanted to swing on my big dick. I had eight inches when I
was fourteen. Spot a queer, wag my cock at him and he was chowing down
before his knees hit the ground.

During this little bit of Roger's personal story, I was groping his big
bulge with both hands. It took them both to get hold of it all! I slid off
the chair and fell to my knees.  I could feel the hard bone as it tried to
expand in the tight confines of the big pouch. He must have had the briefs
specially made to fit around his slim hips and the pouch be big enough to
hold all his meat. I hooked my fingers under the edge of the waist and
pulled down. The briefs fell to the concrete deck and the huge half-hard
cock fell into my gaping mouth. I took it like a hungry baby bird taking a
fat, juicy worm.

He jerked his hardon from my mouth and pushed me back against the edge of
the seat of the chair. "What the fuck! I didn't tell you to suck my cock. I
told you to feel my package!"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." I looked up at him. His face was stern. His
upper lip was turned up in a sneer. "I'm sorry..." He continued to glare
down at me. He had spread his legs slightly apart. His hard cock was
standing straight out from his muscular body and his big balls were swaying
in their hairy sack between his hard, muscular thighs. His hands were
balled into fists resting on his hips. "I'm really sorry...sir! I didn't
mean to presume. I thought..."

"You don't think! You do as you're told and nothing more. Do you
understand, queer?"

"Yes sir."

"Good! That's a good queer. When you're alone with me or with me and my
dad, you call us sir. Is that clear?" he ordered as his right hand moved to
grasp the thick pole that was beginning to leak an ooze of clear liquid
from its tip

"Yes sir. Will I be with your dad...sir?"

"Yes. He wants to try out your mouth. If we had known the wife was going
out, he would have been here waiting for you."

"Are you going to use my mouth sir?"

"You want me to use your mouth, your dirty old queer?"

"Yes sir."

"What do you want me to do with your mouth, fag?"

"Fuck it, sir. Put your big, hard cock in my dirty queer mouth and fuck it,
sir."  I didn't know where this language was coming from. It was like
something in me was responding to this hot stud's unspoken commands.

"How much of my cock do you want in your dirty mouth?"

"All of it sir. I want you to please fuck all of your hard, thick man's
cock in my mouth, down my throat."

"You think you can take all my big cock in your fag mouth, down your dirty
queer throat. You think you can deep-throat my big nine inches down your
fag throat- pussy?"

"Yes sir. I want it. It's been a long time, but I can take it. I've taken
more. I want that big nine-inch cock of yours fucking my pussy, sir."

Roger stepped closer; his big hand still wrapped around his thick member. I
could see the huge mushroom-shaped glans was shiny, covered with the
cock-slime that was pumping out if the thick-lipped meatus. "Lick it,
faggot! Lick that snot-covered head and then take it in your mouth! Wrap
your lips around that big knob and make love to it! Show me you really want
it!"

I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out as far as I could and lapped
around the big glans and down below the ridge at its base, tasting the
remnants of sweat, piss and cum(?) and slurping up the delicious pre-cum
that filled my mouth. Roger pulled his cock away from my mouth and began
wiping the pre-cum-, spit-covered monster over my face, covering my eyes,
nose, cheeks, chin, my hair with his cock-slime. I could smell the
intoxicating aroma of his masculine musk emanating from his thick bush, his
hairy ball-sac and his sweaty crotch. Every time he paused under my nose I
inhaled deeply savoring his man-smell. Every time it crossed my lips, I
tried to suck it into my mouth, but he wouldn't allow it. Finally, he
stopped on my lips. "Open up, queer! Suck it! Wrap your lips around it!
Make me know you love my big dick!"

I opened my lips and sucked in the slick knob, locking my lips around the
cock-shaft just below the ridge that flared out at the base of the
glans. Just the head nearly filled my mouth. With some difficulty, because
my mouth was so full, my tongue licked and I slurped the delicious juices
that continued to flow into my mouth and sucked them down into my
stomach. I was loving the warm, smooth round monster I was making love to
when I felt it begin to push further in!  Roger was beginning to fuck my
mouth-pussy! I felt it move toward the back of my mouth, the entrance to my
throat. I felt it pushing in! `Oh my god! It's been a long time! I know I
can do it! I've taken a foot-long cock before! Oh shit, am I going to gag?
Has my throat tightened up? Fuck! You can do it! You know you can! Just
relax your throat! Take it in! Relax! Swallow! Oh shit! Oh fuck! It's going
down! I can do it! I can do it! Oh Shit! He's fucking my throat! Oh god!
It's so good! It's been so long! A big, hard cock fucking and out of my
throat-pussy! I can still take it! Fuck yeah, pound that mouth pussy, stud!
Fuck me with that big eight-incher! I wonder how big his father is?'

As Roger fucked his monster cock in and out of my pussy throat, he kept up
a running commentary of his demands. "Good boy! That's a good faggot! Oh
yeah! Swallow it, queer! Oh shit! Feeeels sooo gooood! Good cocksucking
faggot! Take it down! Take it all the way and work it! That's the way,
faggot! Oh yeah, fucking your pussy good! My dad's gonna love this pussy,
faggot! I'm cumming, queer!  Drink it all down!  Drink down that big load
into your faggot belly, you fucking queer!" he yelled as he flooded my
throat and mouth with a huge load of hot, sweet, nutty cum tasting slightly
of the beer we had drunk.

His balls emptied, he pulled his softening cock out of my mouth and slapped
it from side to side across my face emptying the last dregs of his ball
juice. Satisfied his tube was empty, he rammed the soft mass back into my
mouth. "Clean that cock, fag! You always clean a man's cock after it's
fucked you!"

Satisfied with my cleaning, Roger stepped back and ran his hands over his
cock and balls. He held out the still very large piece of manmeat pointing
at me. "You love this big cock, don't you, queer. You love a real man
fucking your mouth with his big cock, filling your sorry mouth and throat
with his manhood, his precious seed, forcing himself down inside you and
using you."

I was still kneeling in front of him. I nodded and hung my head.

"I didn't hear that! I can't hear a nod!" he said in a commanding, angry
voice. "Say it!"

"Yes sir. I love your big cock. I love it fucking my mouth. I love having
your manhood in me, shooting your juices into my mouth, down into my
stomach. I love cleaning your cock with my mouth when you're finished with
me, sir."

"And what about my other juices, faggot. You want my other juices in your
stomach, on your face, down your throat," he demanded as he fondled his
cock in front of me. I watched as the limp sausage took on some firmness as
a result of his handling. The mushroom like head was filling out and the
lips of the meatus seemed to be opening into a pouty mouth.

"I don't understand, sir."

"Dumbass! You want my piss? My bladder's full of all that beer I drank. You
ready to drink my piss? You want me to piss all over you, soak you with my
stinking piss, you fucking sorry-assed queer?"

"Whatever you want to do, sir."

Immediately, the piss-slit opened and began spurting a heavy stream of hot,
yellow piss at my face. It hit right in the middle and then moved around to
drench my face and hair as he moved the fast-hardening cock around with the
big hand that was holding and aiming it. "Open your mouth, fag. Get a
mouthful of my piss. Taste this man's piss and drink it down!" I obeyed his
command, and my mouth filled with the hot, acrid tasting fluid. It wasn't
too strong, being the product of a mixture of the three different beers he
had consumed. I swallowed as fast as I could, but still a quantity spilled
out and ran down my chin onto my clothing.  "That's a good fag! Drink that
man-piss! You like my piss, don't you, faggot?" I nodded my head as he
began spraying the seemingly endless stream all over my clothes, back to my
face, on the top of my head so my hair was soaked and the piss was running
down to soak any part of me that he had missed.

Moving closer, so that his still spurting cock was right in front of me, he
demanded, "Stick out your tongue!" I obeyed, and he rested the big head,
still spurting a stream of piss, on it before pushing a couple of inches
in. "Good fag. This is what you need, a real man to take charge of you. You
love this, don't you. You love a man using you, using your holes. Yeah,
we're going to be using both your holes, don't worry. Next time my dad will
be here. You're going to love what Dad and I have planned for you, but
right now I have another load to shoot. Open up that throat, pussy. I'm
going to fuck it harder this time now that I know you can take it."

He grabbed both sides of my head with his powerful hands and rammed his big
pole in all the way until my nose was buried in his dark pubes. He
proceeded to fuck my throat with rough thrusts of his powerful hips and
thighs until he was shooting his second load straight down into my churning
stomach. After a long time as he came down from his orgasm, he left the big
head just inside the entrance to my throat. I could barely get enough air
through the blockage to keep from choking. As he relaxed, he slowly
withdrew so that about half his eight inches was resting on my tongue in my
mouth.

"Okay, fucker, clean my cock. Get it nice and clean with your tongue and
lips so I can put it back in my briefs. Good. That's a good cocksucker, you
know how to treat your man," he said as he pulled the big thing out and
bent down to retrieve the white bikini briefs. I watched as he arranged his
cock and balls in the pouch and picked up the shorts and stepped into them,
not sure about what had happened in the past couple of hours, but knowing I
wanted more of his big dick – and his father's.

"I bet your wife loves it when you put that big dick in her pussy," I said
as, still on my knees, I watched him.

He looked up from fastening his shorts with a scowl on his face. "You don't
mention my wife, you fucking queer. You don't even think about her. You
understand, fag!" he almost yelled at me.

"Yes, sir. I understand. I'm sorry, sir," I said as I stood up.

"Now get out! I'm finished with you today! I'll let you know when I want
you again!" he said firmly. "You better get a big dildo or something to
practice with because next time my dad and I are going to give both your
holes a workout! Now go!" he ordered pointing at the gate that opened onto
the driveway and alley.

I hurriedly left and turned toward the street. All the houses in the
neighborhood have eight-foot fences so the alleys are completely
enclosed. As I stepped out from between the fences into the street I
glanced over my shoulder and saw John standing in his driveway. His big
gate was open. His drive opens onto the side street so it is often open and
I see him doing things in his garage or with one of his cars.

"Hey," he called out. "Getting to know the new neighbors?"

I turned and stepped onto the sidewalk on his side. I didn't want to get
too close. My clothes had dried some, but I was sure I smelled of
piss. "Yeah. We got to talking at the block party and Roger wanted to show
me the changes they plan to make to the pool area."

"Roger? That's his name?"

"You haven't met him and his wife?"

"No, not yet. I was out here and heard loud voices. You two have an
argument?"

"Oh no! He got a little excited talking about the contractor he's dealing
with. They're not hitting it off too well. He seems really angry. I
suggested he talk to another one. You've had some work done. Do you know
anyone? It's a pretty big job. They're going to tear out a lot of bushes,
take down those trees next to the house, enlarge the decking and build a
covered cooking area."

While I was talking, I unconsciously moved a little closer to John and gave
him a look-over. He was a very attractive man, about six feet, dark
salt-and-pepper hair cut short, good-looking face. He was wearing sandals,
leaving his big feet with long toes visible. He had on mid-thigh shorts and
a white t-shirt. There was slight bulge at his crotch, and although the
shirt was not tight, it clearly showed the lines of a nice chest and
shoulders with a taper down to his slim waist. I had often thought how
attractive he was, but now, after my experience with Roger, John's
masculinity and sexiness was having a strong effect on me. I could feel my
dick chubbing up a little, which was something that did not always happen
nowadays.

John had a perplexed look on his face, and I could see him sniffing
slightly. "It smells like urine around here," he said in a puzzled voice.

I looked down at the ground and sort of mumbled, "Roger and I drank a lot
of beer at the party, and I'm embarrassed to say, my bladder isn't as
strong as it used to be, I had an accident and peed on myself."

John looked a little strange and said with a funny smile and raised
eyebrows, "You must have had a really full bladder."

"Yeah. I guess I must have. Well, I'll see you. I've got to get in the
house and change." As I turned away, I glanced down and I swear, John's
bulge had gotten a little bigger. I heard him say half to himself something
about getting in touch with his new neighbor. I hurried home and got out of
the damp smelly clothes before throwing myself on the bed and jacking off a
big load reliving the events of the afternoon.

What had happened to me? It was like Roger had flipped a switch in my head
and turned me into a total faggot slut. I had called him sir and obeyed his
every command, doing stuff I hadn't done in years. I wanted to do those
things with his father. And I couldn't keep my eyes away from John's bulge
while we were talking!