Good Neighbor Ch. 02

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As it turned out, things were just beginning to get interesting. One day about a week later I noticed that the house was getting hot and

uncomfortable. Something was wrong with the central air-conditioning unit. Not only was there no cooling, the blowers didn’t seem to be working well, so there was very little air circulation.

Fortunately, my house had ceiling fans installed in the largest rooms, and I’d put in screen doors. So I turned every fan on high speed, threw open the doors, and tried to get a breeze going. Soon the ground floor was bearable, though hardly cool. The upstairs, though, was impossibly hot—no way would I be able to sleep up there tonight.

It really wasn’t too bad, though. As night fell, I stripped down to my underwear (after carefully closing the blinds), made up the couch with sheets and pillows, turned off every light I could to make the house seem cooler, and settled down in the recliner with my laptop, a pitcher of ice water and a glass by my side. The soft whir of the ceiling fans mingled with, and didn’t quite obscure the sounds of the night outside–the soft chirruping of crickets, the occasional distant bark of some neighbor dog, the whoosh of a car passing down the street. I felt absurdly like a pioneer, roughing it in my temporarily un-air-conditioned home.

Around eleven o’clock I began to yawn, and found it hard to keep my eyes open. I made a mental note to call the central air maintenance guys in the morning and got ready to hit the sack. My stuff was all in the bathroom nearest the master bedroom, so I headed up the stairs, wincing a bit at how hot it still was on the second floor.

After washing up and cleaning my teeth I decided to fetch tomorrow’s clothes from my closet, so I headed into the master bedroom. I could see a dim light coming in through the side window. One of the upstairs lights in Marsh’s house was on.

I don’t know what exactly prompted me to move across the stifling, darkened bedroom, without turning on the light, to look out my window. I told myself afterward that it was just simple curiosity about what room in their house might be across from mine. But really I was hoping to see Marsh again–after all, isn’t that what I’d been doing for weeks, trying to catch glimpses of him?

I got to the window and looked out through the partly open slats of the venetian blind covering it. Directly across from me was a open second-story window, the white curtains framing it drawn aside. The room I was looking into was clearly a bedroom. In the dim light I could see the bed placed against the opposite wall directly facing the window. Marsh was stretched out on top of the comforter, dressed only in a pair of boxer shorts, reading a magazine.

At the first sight of him I quickly drew back. After a moment’s thought I realized this was an unbelievable stroke of luck. Since my bedroom was completely dark and theirs was lit, there was little chance I would be noticed, unless Marsh or his wife came to the window and looked straight out. I felt a thrill of excitement run through me that all voyeurs must feel. There was guilt, too–but not nearly enough to stop me from going back to the window, slowly raising the blind, then carefully, noiselessly lifting the sash.

After a moment, Marsh laid the magazine aside, yawned and stretched. His body was as beautiful as I thought it would be. The defined ridges of his pecs and abs were visible even from this distance. They rivaled those of any exercise magazine cover model. I became aware that my stiffening dick was pressing painfully against the front of my briefs, and pulled them down to free it from its confines. Not taking my eyes off the window for one instant, I began to stroke myself slowly.

I saw Marsh turn his head, smile and speak to someone else in the room. Audrey must be coming to bed. I felt an irrational jealousy that she had the privilege of being close to this man, sharing his room and his bed, while I was confined to spying on them in the dark. I watched raptly as she came into view, wearing a black shorty nightgown, sheer enough so that I could see matching black panties underneath–on her slim, but surprisingly full-breasted figure the skimpy garments looked good. Marsh smiled as she got on the bed and gathered her into his arms. I heard the murmur of their voices, too far away for any words to emerge, as they cuddled affectionately. Seeing them together reminded me acutely of my own current state of aloneness–I felt sad, jealous, and intensely horny, all at the same time. My hand moved faster on my cock, by now slippery with the juices of my arousal.

The happy couple in the other house began to kiss, at first gently, then with increasing urgency. My heart raced as I realized that Marsh and Audrey were starting to make love before my eyes. His hands cupped her breasts through the nightgown. She reached down and fumbled with his boxer shorts, drawing them downward. Frustratingly, Antep Escort Bayan he rolled on top of her at that moment and all I could see was his shapely butt, above the boxers now halfway down his legs. Her slim arms grasped his back, white against his tanned musculature.

Then, to my delight, Marsh turned over and stripped his shorts completely off. Even across the distance between our houses I could see the heavy length of his cock pointing stiffly upward on his lower belly, above his balls. He rose to his feet and stood sideways in front of the bed, his organ now jutting outward, silhouetted in the dim light of the bedroom. Audrey got down off the bed and knelt in front of him. I saw her head move toward his crotch, and a moment later Marsh’s cock disappeared into her mouth.

A strangled groan escaped from my throat. I would have killed to be in Audrey’s place at that moment–giving head to a man the likes of whom I’d rarely seen, and never possessed. I saw him caress her head gently with one big hand, and imagined him doing the same to me. I was dangerously close to shooting my load, and forced my hand to slow its frantic pace.

Audrey didn’t suck Marsh for very long. As she released his cock, Marsh unfastened something at her throat and the garment fell away from her, exposing her breasts. He sat his wife on the edge of the bed and drew down the panties she was still wearing, going to his knees as he did so. I caught a glimpse of the neat triangle of Audrey’s pubic mound just before Marsh’s head closed in on it. He was returning the favor his wife had done him. Audrey’s head snapped back, her blond hair spilling over her shoulders. Her eyes closed, her mouth opened, and though I couldn’t hear it I knew she was moaning with pleasure. One of Marsh’s hands reached up and caressed her breast again.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of them. Watching the man I desired performing the act of love, even with a woman, was an experience beyond compare. I wanted to savor every moment of it–I had taken my hand completely off my own cock, which stayed rock hard even so. I wanted to ride vicariously with Audrey and Marsh to the climax of their lovemaking.

They were now on the bed again, Audrey on her back with her legs spread. Marsh positioned himself over her, his back to the window, and lowered his body onto hers. Her arms went around him, her mouth opened in another gasp and I knew that his cock had penetrated her. Marsh’s butt began to contract rhythmically as he began to thrust, at first slowly, then with increasing speed and strength until I could see the bed shaking with the force of his fucking. Faint cries from both of them reached my ear. I began to stroke myself again, this time not trying to hold back. Soft grunts began to emerge from my own throat.

Just then, Audrey’s head, visible over one broad male shoulder, rolled from side to side, and I heard a single clear, almost musical cry of ecstasy. She clapped one hand abruptly over her mouth, her eyes bulging comically. It wouldn’t do to wake Jonah now! Marsh’s thrusts increased to a frantic pace, and I heard his voice shout wordlessly. I saw a warning finger come up to Audrey’s lips. They had obviously reached the ideal completion–a mind-blowing orgasm for her, timed to perfection with the planting of his seed inside her.

They didn’t know it, but it had been a triple play–a few seconds after Marsh came, my eyes closed involuntarily as an explosion rocked my own body. I groaned loud enough that I was afraid they would hear. I felt the hot jets spurting out of my cock and dimly wondered where they were going. Rocking onto my knees, I grasped the window sill with my free hand to keep from falling over, my head down, my breath coming in harsh gasps.

After I had regained some semblance of equilibrium I opened my eyes. Fortunately I hadn’t made enough noise to be heard across the way. Marsh and Audrey were now lying next to each other, still naked, their bodies still loosely entwined. After a while Marsh got up and moved toward the window, and I quickly retreated into the shadows. When I felt it was safe to look out again, a small fan was whirring in the window and the lights were off.

My legs and feet were tingling from crouching so long, my hand was sticky with cum, and there was a mess on the bedroom floor, and probably on the wall underneath the window as well. I rose stiffly, pulling up my briefs, and went to the bathroom to get a towel to clean up. I wiped everything up as best I could in the dim light from the hallway, still thinking it prudent not to turn on the light in the bedroom. When I was done I padded downstairs, locked up, stretched out on the couch, and at last, fell into an deep, dreamless sleep.


I awoke the next morning and didn’t know where I was. There was an unfamiliar light all around me, and an odd whirring noise. After a moment I realized I was lying on my living room couch. I had left the ceiling fans on to keep some air moving, but with the doors and windows closed the house nevertheless was stuffy.

Thoughts of last night came into my mind. The window through which I had witnessed Marsh making passionate love to his wife was the same one behind which Stan had stood one rainy morning before the house was finished, staring into my eyes as he jacked himself off. Boldly he had let me know that he was on to me–he had seen me eyeing his body while he labored on the construction crew. Then, the next day, he had knocked on my door and made what had been fantasy hot and sweet reality.

The odds that this present story would have a similar end were zero. Obviously Marsh and Audrey had a healthy relationship, to say the least. The house next door had provided me with one companion—it was too much to think it would give me two. With that depressing thought, I hauled myself off the couch to get ready for the day.

One afternoon later that week I walked into my favorite local coffee house. Inside there was a woman, with a little boy next to her, speaking to the cashier. She turned her head–I saw that it was Audrey and Jonah. As I approached she caught sight of me and her face brightened in recognition. “Hello,” she called. “We’re on our way home from preschool.” She looked down at her son. “Jonah, remember Mr. Rob? Say hello.”

“Hi,” Jonah said. He gave me a shy smile, and I felt unaccountably pleased.

We chatted idly for a few moments while we waited for our lattes to come up.

“You’re doing a good job with him,” I observed.

“Thanks,” Audrey replied, patting her son on the head. “Though it hasn’t been hard. Jonah’s never been any trouble–well, except when he came into the world.”

I was silent, not wanting to say that Marsh had already revealed that personal detail. Come to think of it, I knew quite a few personal details about Mr. and Mrs. Atkins. Though there was no way she could know what I had seen a few days before, I felt my face reddening.

“We still haven’t had you over for dinner,” she continued, not noticing my discomfort. “I’m afraid it may be a while. I’m going out of town tomorrow and I’m not exactly sure when I’ll be back.”

“Hope it’s nothing serious.”

“Actually, it is. My father’s been ill a long time, and he’s getting worse. He may not live much longer.”

“I’m very sorry.”

She nodded as she picked up her coffee. Unlike Marsh, Audrey seemed able to keep her private pain hidden. “Thanks. Anyway, if he does–pass away, I’ll have to stay and help take care of things. I’m going to have to leave Jonah with his dad. A hospital’s no place for a small child, and I don’t want him to miss that much school.”

“I’m sure your husband will take good care of him,” I said absently.

Audrey started talking about the arrangements that had been made for her son, how another mother from his school was going to look after him until Marsh got home from work, but I barely heard her. My mind insisted that my handsome neighbor was out of reach–but from the way my heart was beating, it obviously thought otherwise.

“Well, Rob, I may ask you to check up on that workaholic,” she laughed as she turned to go. “Come on, sport. Let’s go home and eat your cookie.”

As I was hand-watering some of the flowers in the back yard early that evening I heard my name called. I looked toward the fence and saw Marsh striding toward me.

“Hey, buddy. Audrey says she saw you today. You know she’s going away for a while?”

I nodded. “That’s tough luck. Anything I can do to help?”

“Truth is,” Marsh said, scratching his head in embarrassment, “I’m a little nervous about being alone with Jonah that long. I mean, I can dress him, feed him, get him off to preschool and put him to bed, but that leaves a lot of hours in the day. Audrey’s already grumbling about his eyes getting weak from too much TV.”

Marsh, the perfect father, was asking his single, childless, gay neighbor for advice about parenting. I stifled a laugh and tried to reassure him.

“You’ll be fine.”

“Jonah does like the water,” Marsh continued, thinking out loud. “Maybe I’ll take him to Deep Eddy this weekend. Not exactly my idea of fun, sitting in the middle of all those screaming kids, but the little guy’d have a blast.”

Deep Eddy was a park that had both a outdoor lap pool for adult swimmers, and a shallow wading pool for the kids. Marsh had told me during our kitchen conversation that one of the ways he worked out was by swimming laps. I knew he’d much rather be stroking his way up and down one of the lanes in the lap pool. The words came out of my mouth with hardly a thought.

“I could go too. You could do laps while I keep an eye on Jonah.”

Marsh’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’d really do that?”

“Sure I would.” Some devil in me had seen that the Atkins’ son might, just might be the way to get a little closer to the father. Even if nothing came of it, I still would have gotten to spend time with Marsh, who would, and this was not an insignificant detail, be in swim trunks a lot of the time.

“Well, I’ll have to ask Audrey. She’s very protective of Jonah–I didn’t mean it that way, Rob,” Marsh said, looking abashed as he realized the import of his words.

“It’s okay.” It’s not her son she should be worried about, I thought.

Marsh looked at me closely and there was something indefinable in his eyes. “I guess it’s true we haven’t known you very long. Funny, I keep forgetting that.” He turned to go, saying, “She’s leaving on Friday. Let’s plan on Saturday morning bright and early, before it gets too crowded.”

The next couple of days were agonizingly suspenseful, waiting to see if Audrey would actually leave–somehow I thought she might change her mind and stay–and hoping that the weather would be good that weekend. I needn’t have worried on the latter score. Each day loomed hot and sunny, and the television newscasts were talking about an incipient drought. On Friday evening, my cell phone rang while I was on my way home.

“You still on for tomorrow morning?” asked Marsh’s voice.

My heart leaped. “Sure,” I said, trying my best to sound casual.

“Okay then. Come by around eight-thirty. You sure you can get up that early?”

“For you I will,” I said, hastily adding, “And Jonah.”

Marsh laughed. “Good man. He’s really looking forward to this.”

The next morning the three of us piled into the Blazer, equipped with sunscreen, cooler, duffel bags, and Jonah’s water toys. Marsh carefully belted his son into the back seat, but trouble began brewing when he and I got in the front.

“Want to ride in front,” Jonah protested.

“Got to stay in back, buddy,” Marsh replied. “It’s only for a little while.”

Logic and reason had little meaning for poor Jonah, obviously missing Audrey. He repeated his request more insistently, his lower lip beginning to puff out, a warning sign. Before he could erupt into a full-blown wail, I decided to try my hand at smoothing things over.

“I’ll get in back with you, Jonah.”

As I climbed into the rear seat, Jonah glared at me suspiciously. I was not, after all, his mother. I thought of something. “Here,” I said, reaching into my front pocket. “Ever seen anything like this?”

It was a little gadget that I had received as a gift at some Christmas party, the kind of thing that everyone exclaims over for five minutes and then forgets about–a hand-held, battery operated fan with soft rubber blades, that you could turn on by twisting the little head on which it was mounted. This one had a gimmick, though. It sat in a carrying case, equipped with a little spray bottle that sat behind the blades. You could fill the bottle with water, turn the fan on, push the plunger, and spritz yourself with a cool mist as well as enjoy the breeze. When I’d received it, in a clear plastic and cardboard package emblazoned with the legend “REVOLUTIONARY MISTING HAND FAN,” I’d thought to myself that a kid would like this thing. Now I was about to give my theory a field test.

Jonah took the fan curiously, momentarily diverted, at least. I showed him how to turn the thing on and off and he very quickly got the hang of it. I pointed the fan toward him so that the breeze stirred his soft brown hair. I gave him an experimental spritz and he giggled with delight. I looked up to see Marsh grinning back at me.

“Thanks, Uncle,” he said, and started the car.

Fortunately the trip to the park was a short one. On the way Jonah discovered that the fan blades would stop instantly at the slightest touch, a built-in safety feature. This, together with spraying the back of his dad’s head, kept him happily occupied until we got to the parking lot, which despite our strategy was already half full. We found a spot and unloaded. Weighted down with our equipment and a small boy, Marsh and I made our way toward the pool.

The park was laid out to have as much natural land as possible. The two pools had concrete decks, but there was plenty of grassy lawn all around, shaded with trees. It took much longer than I would have imagined to get ourselves to a shaded, comfortable spot not too far from the water, spread a towel on the ground, unpack our stuff and settle down. But at last, the three of us were ready to have fun.

“Daddy, can we go swimming?” Jonah said plaintively. He was still holding the toy I had given him.

“Yes we can, if you’ll put the fan down and let me take off your clothes,” his father answered. Catching me completely by surprise, Marsh stood and slipped his T-shirt off over his head, then unfastened his shorts and let them drop to the ground. I was slightly disappointed at the fashionably baggy, patterned boxer-style trunks that appeared underneath, but Marsh dressed only in swimsuit and flip-flops was nevertheless a breathtaking sight up close. I felt downright intimidated following suit, but nevertheless peeled down to my own conservative Speedos. I looked up to find Marsh’s eyes on me.

“You white man,” he said.

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