The Downstairs Neighbor - free erotic gay stories on MaleDirectory

It is 6 a.m. on a warm summer morning. My neighbor from downstairs is in the backyard slowly pacing the perimeter of the pool. The moments of last night’s sleep still linger around his dark eyes and brown tousled hair. I can spot scattered indentations on his skin left by the wrinkled sheets on his bed. I can hear the soft gurgling of his coffee maker downstairs. As he walks around the pool, he looks down at the clear chlorinated water below oblivious to the handsome visage that looks back.

He is wearing a pair of white boxers with mint green stripes this time around. I notice that often he never wears anything more than his underwear. Most of the time, it is boxers. Sometimes, it is briefs. As he walks around the pool, I can trace the bouncing, almost comical swinging his long, thick cock makes under the sheer fabric around his groin. From behind, his underwear stretches over the darkened crevice between the globular mounds of his buttocks. As the morning heat evaporates the dew on the foliage around the yard, it also forms beads of sweat that trace the sinewy muscles on his back

My neighbor has a thin patch of hair on the shallow groove of his muscled chest that gathers into a line like marching ants down his flat stomach and disappears under the fabric of his light colored boxers. He pulls his underwear down slightly while absentmindedly scratching the skin over his pubic area leaving it hanging dangerously low around his hips. Hard fibers of muscle ripple under the skin of his shoulders as he oh so casually reaches down to feel the temperature of the water in the pool. He continues to walk around the pool trying to shake off the sleep from last night. And then, as if on cue, he strolls back to his apartment downstairs and disappears from my sight.

This part for me is most agonizing. I imagine him pouring coffee into his favorite cup. In my mind, I see him opening his fridge to reach for the butter that he will spread thinly on his toast. I try to guess what fruit he will have for breakfast. Will it be an apple, a pear, an orange or a banana today? In the still of the early morning, I can hear his footsteps downstairs, the slamming of doors and the clinking of china and glass. The wait is unbearable. The urgency from my cock is strong even while I second-guess his return. I rest my binoculars on the windowsill to free my hands and clasp them tightly around my cock as if pleading for patience from a cruel god.

I listen intently for movement downstairs, and hear my neighbor as he walks and opens the squeaking doors to the yard. He walks towards the pool with a cup of coffee in one hand and an apple in the other while holding a dark piece of toast in his mouth. I lift the binoculars with one hand leaving the other to stroke my cock. I watch him as he sits with his back to me at the edge of the pool as he consumes his breakfast.

Within minutes, he finishes his meal. He throws the apple core at the plants surrounding the pool and moves his coffee cup a few inches away so that he can lie on the ground without knocking it over. His feet remain dangling in the water to cool as he lies on the ground with his arms under his head to cushion it from the concrete floor. From above, I watch my neighbor in his surrendered pose, his skin glistening and reddening against the hot sun. I can count his every breath and every rib on his lean trunk. I imagine running my hands over his hard muscled legs, his flat stomach and licking the saltiness of his skin. I think of running my tongue all over his chest and resting my lips on one of his nipples while softly grazing my hand on the other. My cock throbs and I feel a warm trickle of moisture from its tip touch my thumb. I hurriedly strip off my pajama bottoms as I welcome the climax that is sure to come.

++

It is a cold and windy day early in the spring. I enter the Queen Anne style house converted into a tenement type of building usually rented out to university students during the school year. Old hardwood floors creak as the landlord and I step into the foyer. She blandly rhymes off some basic features of the place in the common hallway as we climb up the stairs leading to what would be my new apartment.

“There are a couple of other tenants here in that room there,” she says pointing to the door behind the stairs, “and that one,” pointing to the door directly below the stairs. “You’ll have all of the second floor. It gets pretty loud in here sometimes with all the university kids. It’s spring though so they should be outta here soon.”

“That’s alright,” I respond. I lie to her and say, “I’m not home a lot anyhow.”

“Alright then,” she responds rather too quickly. She gives me a look as if quietly questioning the conditions in the life of a man in his mid-thirties moving into a place like this. “There’s a pool in the backyard that I open in the summer. It’s one of the perks of living here. You should know that it’s for all the tenants and bed and breakfast customers that I have around these parts. The rent is due at the end of every month. You can give me some post-dated cheques now to cover your rent to the end of the year,” she says handing me a wrinkled white envelope.

“I can’t just give you a void cheque so that you can get a direct deposit every month?” I ask.

She looks at me, eyes widening at this seemingly incredulous suggestion. “I don’t have the knack for that internet stuff,” she says shaking her head.

I don’t bother arguing with her. Instead, I walk to the small table in the room that looks like it was renovated into a modest kitchen and dining area. I take a few minutes to write her some post-dated cheques to December. I insert the cheques in the envelope she gave me and hand them to her.

“Okey doke,” she says as she stuffs the envelope on the inside pocket of her dated beige colored spring jacket. “I’m just down the street if you need anything.” She waves her hand as she leaves and shuts the door behind her.

Alone, I stand in the kitchen surveying my new place. I walk to the window overlooking the yard to find a small pool covered by a green tarp littered with the refuse of the seasons past. I open the cupboards and cabinets looking for remnants from its previous occupants. I inspect the rest of the apartment including the small bedroom and bathroom. Standing outside the bedroom, I view the common areas of the living room and kitchen. The space is small and sparsely furnished but adequate for my immediate needs.

Minutes later, I hear the front door open and the loud pounding of heavy shoes in the foyer downstairs. Expletives are flying as I overhear a conversation about some fucking chick and her posse of bitches. “She’s a fucking ho, man,” I overhear one of them say. I stand by my door listening in on the animated exchange between three, maybe even four men. I agonize over whether or not I should open the door and introduce myself to what I would assume to be my new neighbors. A door opens and shuts as the trail of conversation continues into the room downstairs. I wait for a few minutes before opening my door expecting the hall to be empty. When I look down, I see him sitting at the bottom of the stairs in the foyer hunkering down to untie his boots.

He hears my door open and he looks up at me clearly startled by my presence. “Hey man. You just moved in?” he asks the obvious as he gets up to throw his boots on the muddied mat in the foyer.

“Yeah,” I reply. My new neighbor’s features relax when I respond revealing piercing dark eyes and chiseled features. His lips are pink and inflamed by the cold wind. His skin is smooth and though darker in tone, has paled from the many sunless days of the past winter. He has a slight underbite making his mouth seem to naturally pucker. His thick windblown hair is a little too long, dry and damaged. Nonetheless, he is perhaps one of the handsomest men I have ever laid my eyes on.

“Welcome man. See ya around,” my neighbor says. He unzips his jacket as he walks towards the door of the apartment downstairs. Underneath his jacket, he is wearing a light blue sweater that molds to his broad muscular chest and drapes down easily over the narrowness of his flat abdomen. He turns to look at me again to give me a tentative nod and a half smile as he moves past the door below and shuts it gently behind him.

“Okay, see ya,” I say as his door closes below. For a minute, I stand at the top of the stairs stunned by the awkwardness of this initial interaction. When I gain some of my composure, I limp into my apartment and lean my back against the door to close it. My heart is racing. My breathing is short and painful. I never had the knack of engaging strangers in lengthy conversations especially if they are as beautiful as the man I met just now. Repeated flashes of my new neighbor’s handsome face invade my thoughts as I feel a sudden stirring in my groin. I place my hand over the growing mound of flesh under the harsh fabric of my trousers and squeeze it to quell its mounting needs.

+++

Sitting by the window with a pair of binoculars in one hand and my raging hard cock in the other, I watch my neighbor from downstairs lying face up by the edge of the pool. With a soft grunt, he stands up and slowly walks towards the diving board. At the end of the diving board, he bounces a couple of times, bends down and knifes his way easily into coolness of the pool. I watch him as he does several laps back and forth for about half an hour. His lean and muscular frame appears smooth and luminescent as the warm sun reflects off of the film of water caressing his skin. The sight of his effortless movement excites me too much that I release my cock from my hand lest I cum too soon. I look down at my crotch to find my cock peering from under my soft belly, appearing almost sad and reproachful.

He finishes his last lap and inches his way to the far corner of the pool to rest. From my vantage point, I can see him panting with his mouth hanging open and his eyes red from the chlorine. He licks and bites his bottom lip, looks up and grimaces as he tries to catch his breath. He spreads his thick arms to anchor himself over the edge of the pool so as to keep from sinking down its deeper end.

Moments later, he lazily floats his way to the shallow end of the pool. There he stands tall with the water just a few inches above his knees. His wet boxers are now translucent, clinging to his skin and revealing the reddish mass of his large cock framed at its base by a dark patch of pubic hair. Standing alone in the pool, my neighbor looks briefly around at the stillness of the early morning that surrounds him. He then rubs his hands repeatedly in circular motions over his chest, massaging the firm pectorals underneath and pressing on the sensitive nerves of his nipples. Now lost reverie, he looks down at his crotch and runs his hands down the rippled ridges of his stomach. Almost instantly, the saturated fabric of his underwear stretches and strains over the rising length of his cock.

He shakes his head slightly, as if to distract himself from his lustful thoughts and heaves himself out of the pool. He takes slow easy strides towards his apartment and stops on the tattered mat by the door directly below my window. I rise from my chair and strain to catch a last look at him before he goes in. I find him directly below me rubbing down the wet material of his boxers that cling to his legs in an effort to squeeze the excess water out of them. He lets out a resigned sigh and quickly drops his wet boxers to the ground. From above I can see the top of his head, the smooth groove down his spine and the firm mound of his buttocks. He twists around to wring the water out his boxers away from the mat under his feet. As he twists, I get a brief glimpse of his half engorged cock as it slaps the skin on his groin. My neighbor then turns to hold on to the doorframe of his place below, stomps his bare feet a couple of times on the mat and strolls into his apartment disappearing from my sight.

With him gone from view, I look frantically around the space of my apartment. I spot the open box next to my laptop computer on the kitchen table and ponder its familiar connection to the loose baseboard under the kitchen sink cabinet. For a brief moment, I resist the deranged thoughts in my head. The brief silence from my neighbor’s apartment below plagues me with insane curiosity. Various scenarios play in head, some of which I have already seen him do and others I wish he would do someday.

It does not take long before I surrender to my desperate urges. The small muscles in my groin clench making the head of my hard eager cock bob up and down as if agreeing with what I am about to do. My head spins as my breathing becomes short and rapid. My heart is beating fast against the walls of my chest. I get up and tiptoe slowly towards the kitchen table to retrieve the box on top. I take it a few paces over to the kitchen sink where I crouch down low to gingerly lift the loose baseboard underneath. With the baseboard lifted, I spot a sliver of daylight coming from a small opening between the floor of my apartment and the cracks of the ceiling in my neighbor’s apartment downstairs.

My fingers tremble with anticipation as I reach for the miniature camera inside the open box. I lift the miniature camera to untangle the coils of its accessories and connect them to my laptop. With the camera ready, I press my eye into the lens and quietly maneuver it down past the old hardwood floor that separates my place from my neighbor’s. I adjust the focus of the lens to find a full view of my neighbor’s tiny, one room pad below.

++++

My neighbor’s pad looks like it was once an office or a guest room. It is a haphazardly converted mess furnished with a mishmash of things used more for their convenience rather than for their style. On the top frame of my camera, I can see a small nightstand separating a pull out loveseat and a single bed. Opposite the bed and next to the glass door to the backyard are a red armchair, a floor lamp and a closet. The bottom frame of my view shows the top of his television close to the foot of his bed. A couple of feet away, shoved against the wall near the television is a small dinette set. On the bottom far left corner of the frame, I can see the front door of his apartment. His front door directly opens to what I guess would be his kitchen with a small counter, a miniature fridge, a sink, a single burner and a microwave. Behind the wall of his makeshift kitchen at the top right corner of my camera’s frame is his bathroom. His bathroom door opens to the common areas of the room downstairs where I can see parts of a toilet and a glassed in shower stall.

I find my neighbor standing by the foot of his bed still naked with a towel over one shoulder. He has a remote in one hand while pulling on his large cock with the other. Faint sounds of exaggerated moaning emanate from his television. He walks to the head of his bed and throws both the remote on his nightstand and his towel on the red armchair close to the bed. He arranges his pillows high at the head of his bed and lies down to watch what is playing on the TV screen while stroking his cock.

I hurriedly get up and sit on the chair in front of my laptop on the kitchen table. I turn on my computer and put on the earphones connected to the base of my laptop. I whisper softly to myself as if willing my neighbor to wait while my computer loads. A few excruciating seconds later, the screen clears revealing an image of my neighbor lying on his bed masturbating.

His handsome face is deep in concentration. I watch him as he pulls his cock down hard between his legs urging for more blood to fill the rest of its sensitive tissues. His strokes lengthen as his hand moves up and down the length of his quickly hardening cock. He moves his legs wide apart and releases his cock making it slap against his flat tummy.

Now fully erect, his cock has grown past his belly button to rest its engorged head high on the rippling muscles of his stomach. He takes his thumb to the base of his penis and props it up to assess its impressive size. I watch him as he licks the palm of his other hand for lubrication and starts rubbing the swollen head of his shaft.

He firmly strokes the whole length of his engorged penis, relishing the friction of his insistent massage. He pauses briefly to look at the head of his cock and with his thumb toys with the lip of its narrow opening. To my surprise, he tilts his cock up towards his face with one hand and with the other, jabs the tip of his pinky finger into his cock’s narrow hole. Immediately, he grimaces and gasps from the irritation he causes. This is something I have never seen him do before. I find myself melting deeper into my chair with my cock now just a blur in my hand, even more excited by what I just witnessed.

He abandons experimenting with the hole of his cock and continues to rub its length while slowly moving his hips. He then lifts his butt off the bed and with his free hand, reaches down between his widely splayed legs to feel for the puckered face of his anus. I lean closer towards the computer screen in anticipation of what he is about to do next. He lets out a loud groan as he plunges his middle finger deep into his rectum. The sensation this gives him makes his eyes roll back and his whole body shake. While fingering himself, he strangles the base of his cock causing it to swell even more and changing its color to an angry purplish shade. He looks down the length of his lean body, moans and starts beating his cock aggressively, spurring it to climax. The crimson helmet head of his cock bobs rapidly in and out of his hand looking increasingly volcanic.

No longer able to control himself, he lets out a long, deep moan and cums explosively. His mouth opens into a wide o as his handsome face crumples in libidinous bliss. When he reaches climax, he digs the back of his head down harder on his pillows and arches his back high off the bed. Still in the peak of his orgasm, he settles his torso back down on the bed and looks at his cock to watch long, copious spurts of thick pearly fluid erupt from his cock and land all over his lean and muscular frame. Strong spasms wrack his whole body making every ropey fiber of his sinews jut out from under his sun burnt skin. He lets out several loud halting grunts followed by soft high-pitched whimpers until his orgasm subsides. Still unfinished, he squeezes the base of his cock then runs his fingers along its base to coax out a thick glob of cum left sitting in its length. He then brings the remaining cum to his mouth with his fingers to suck on and swallow his own juices.

+++++

As I watch him cum, I convulse into my own orgasm. A thick jet of white fluid springs from my cock to land on the expanse of my belly. This is followed by a slow moving ooze of cum that drips down my penis and onto my hand. I bite on the softness of my other arm to muffle the moans that come with my climax. When my orgasm fades, I find myself mimicking him and licking the thin film of cum coating the space between my thumb and forefinger. I recoil slightly at the salty, bittersweet taste of my own bodily fluids.

After he cums, my neighbor remains lying on his bed to catch his breath with his legs wide apart and his thick forearms cradling his head. Beads of sweat cover his face and body giving him a slick glowing sheen. His cock, though now only half engorged, is still magnificent and powerful. It rests its impressive length on his groin snaking its form down and sideways to rest its still swollen tip close to the base of his testicles. Minutes later, he gets up from his bed and examines the mess he made on his torso. Thick splotches of white goo pepper his well-muscled body. He rubs one of his pecs with his fingers to catch a particularly large amount of semen slithering its way down the mass of his chest. He continues to mop up the rest of the cum off his body with both hands as he walks to the shower and shuts the bathroom door behind him.

I sit still to rest for a few minutes after. With my earphones still on, I can hear the rhythmic tapping of water hitting the floor of my neighbor’s shower downstairs. Strong images of him masturbating run in continuous loops in my head. I awaken from my daydreaming to the sound of his footsteps downstairs as he comes back into frame racing naked around his apartment. I watch him as he turns off his television and dresses himself in a plain white t-shirt, a pair of light blue boxers and blue jeans.

He sits on his bed to begin putting on his sneakers when a loud knock comes from his door. With only one sneaker on, he awkwardly limps over to the door of his apartment to greet the person on the other side. His front door opens on the lower left corner of my camera’s frame where he greets his friend with an elaborate display of handshakes and slaps of their hands.

“C’mon Brandon,” his friend declares. “We’re gonna be late.”

“Alright. Sorry man. Gimme a couple of seconds,” my neighbor says turning around and hopping over to jam his shoeless foot into his other sneaker by the bed. He hurriedly runs around his pad snatching a few items including a light hooded sweater from the floor in the corner of the room, a backpack from the dinette set and a set of keys sitting on top of his miniature fridge.

“Okay let’s go,” my neighbor says as he ushers his friend out to close the door.

“Geez, Brandon. Your place fuckin’ stinks like ass,” I overhear his friend say in the foyer downstairs.

“Shut up,” my neighbor replies chuckling at his friend’s remark. The door in the downstairs foyer shuts loudly as my neighbor and his friend walk into the warm sunny day outside.

The cum on my belly is now cool and beginning to dry. On my computer screen, my neighbor’s apartment below, though still messy, is now silent and still. I do not really know where my neighbor goes when he leaves his place. He and I have never had any lengthy exchanges except for the occasional cordial greeting when we pass each other in the foyer.

I get up from my chair and throw my earphones carelessly next to my laptop on the kitchen table. Using my pajama bottoms that I dropped earlier on the floor by the window, I mop up the mess that I made on my crotch and belly. I give a last look at the stillness in my neighbor’s apartment below before turning off my laptop, packing up the miniature camera and carefully replacing the loose baseboard under the kitchen sink cabinet. Realizing I was running late, I throw my soiled pajama bottoms in the hamper and quickly jump in the shower to get ready for work.

THE END