Naughty Neighbour


When I bought my first home at the age of twenty-six, I moved into a middle-class neighbourhood in one of the less fashionable suburbs of the city. The term ‘middle-class’ was perhaps a little euphemistic, because many of the people living in the street were rednecks. It was, however, the best home I could afford.I very soon became friendly with the family living next door, to my left. Martha, my neighbour was a buxom woman that clearly took no shit. Fortunately, we hit it off from the very start and she became a really great neighbour to have. Most people upon meeting her would assume that she was butch, but that was not the case. Martha had a handsome face and her two boys had definitely inherited her good looks. She had never married, and both sons were born out of wedlock.He older boy, Dylan, who was twenty-one-years-old, knew who his father was, but as she explained; when she was pregnant with Dylan, she soon realized that Doug, Dylan’s father was a real player and simply couldn’t keep his zipper closed. Added to that, he was a real thug and was always getting into fights. Resultantly, five months into her pregnancy, she gave Doug his marching orders.After Doug fucked off he didn’t have any contact with Dylan until Dylan was sixteen-years-old. Thereafter, Doug regularly began seeing his son, and they bonded very well and would often go out fishing together. Martha didn’t mind this at all and actually encouraged it.The younger boy, Lester, who was seven-years-old did not know who his dad was. She once told me that at the time of Lester’s conception, his father was a married man with a family, and Martha simply didn’t want to cause problems in his life. She had always isvecbahis wanted kids and was happy to raise them on her own. Martha was particularly pleased that she had given birth to two boys, because she was a real man’s woman and didn’t care for female company. Her philosophy about boys was that it was better to worry about one prick in the neighbourhood, rather than all the pricks in the neighbourhood.Although she could cook and bake very well, Martha also loved doing all the repairs around her home and could fix any plumbing or electrical problem better than most men. Needless to say, I never had to employ the services of plumbers or electricians after meeting her.What pleased me most about Martha was that she was very proud of her property and maintained a really pretty garden.Her two boys were real ruffians and always looked scruffy, which she approved of heartily, because according to her, ‘boys were made to be that way.’ She, however, took no nonsense from the boys and they were shit-scared of her. One day when I observed Dylan standing outside in their garden, I saw that he had a fat lip. Upon asking him what had happened, he told me that his mother had floored him the previous evening when he cheeked her. Dylan then quickly assured me, that it had been his own fault because he had severely provoked her.Lester, the youngest would often pop into my home early on. He was a bright boy with an inquiring mind and drove me crazy with a million questions on each visit. His visits did not make me very comfortable, nonetheless, because with everyone knowing that I was gay, I did not want the neighbourhood to start gossiping.To Martha’s credit, although she was not concerned isveçbahis giriş by Lester’s visits to my home, I soon however, reasoned that I had to deal with this situation head-on. After I informed her of my concerns, Martha dealt with the situation very deftly after being in full agreement with my logic. Thankfully, thereafter, Lester’s visits were substantially curtailed.Dylan, however, was an entirely different matter. He was a big lad and stood six-foot-three-inches-tall. He had a naturally beautiful physique and was extremely good-looking. One simply couldn’t keep one’s eyes off him.Although he would pop in to see me from time to time, he never became a real nuisance. The only fallout from his visits was that my booze cabinet took a severe knock after he had popped in. Dylan was a party animal and drank like a fish. There was a club in town where he loved to hang out on weekends. Having taken a page out of his father’s book, Dylan also loved getting into fights at the club. His passions in life, as he told me, were fucking, fighting, and drinking. As far as the fucking aspect of this lifestyle was concerned, Dylan apparently had no problem getting women into bed. He was also not shy to mention that he was a stud in the bedroom and extremely well-equipped in the penis department.Late one Saturday afternoon I even got to see his cock and verify that he had not been lying.A group of friends were visiting me when Dylan paid me a surprise visit on that day. Dylan had an incredible sense of humour and natural storytelling ability. Needless to say, my friends were delighted by the sight of him. Dylan had also had quite a few drinks by then and was on top isveçbahis yeni giriş form. When he mentioned that he was looking forward to dancing at the club that night, one of my buddies asked him if he was a good dancer.After asking me to put some music on, Dylan then said that he would give us a show, fully aware of the fact that he was in gay company. I was stunned at how rhythmically he moved his body about and when he removed his shirt and tossed it to the side, there was a collective shriek of excitement from the ‘girls’ watching.Chants of “take it all off,” now began to emanate from the excited faces watching the spectacle, and soon the shorts were also tossed aside.Next, after turning his body around, Dylan pushed his underpants down and kicked them to the side. Upon turning to face us again, he commenced swaying his hips to give us a good look at his substantial uncut dick flapping from side to side. Dylan then opened his stance and swung his cock up and down like a meaty pendulum. The sounds now emanating from my buddies began to reach fever pitch as mobile phones clicked frenziedly.When one of my friends, however, tried to reach out and touch his dick, Dylan pushed his hands away. The gesture wasn’t aggressive but firm. Dylan then got dressed and said that he needed to go home and have a nap before his visit to the club.After his departure and in the lull after the storm, my friends were speechless.A few weeks later, when Dylan once more popped in one Saturday afternoon, he ended up drinking far more than normal and ended up passing out on my sofa. After covering him with a blanket and placing a bucket next to his head, I phoned Martha and told her what had happened. She was very annoyed, but thanked me, promising that if he caused any mess she would clean it up the following day.Thereafter, after his mother had no doubt threatened him within an inch of his life, this scenario never happened again.

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