I needed to give Matt and crew a little rest. I hope that's okay with the "Shooting Matt" folks.
There's only straight sex in this story. I wanted to make sure I could still write erotic straight sex. If I've failed at that, please let me know how I can do better. That's how I learn.
The sex is straight but a little out there, or so I hope. Sno-balling, voyeur, you get the idea.
Thanks to LarryInSeattle.
Enjoy.
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Thank god it was my wife who noticed it first. If it had been me, I'm not sure I'd have said anything. Primarily, because I'd be afraid she'd think I was a total perv. I would've wanted to say something but freely admit I might have been too chicken shit to have done it. So, as I said, thank god, Chrissy heard them first.
"Oh, my god," she gasped. "Do you hear that?"
We live in an area that realtors refer to as "transitional". Meaning, folks like Chrissy and I are gradually forcing the working poor to find somewhere else to live. No, mom, we're not 'yuppies'. That was your generation. We're millennials. We're totally not hipsters. If I put my hair into a bun it's because it's for convenience, not because I'm a hipster. Plus, I can't lie; I fucking look hot with long hair.
I get it. Saying shit like that makes me sound like a totally self-centered douche. I'm not. So, sorry - not sorry.
TBH, I'd been phubbing her. We've not been married long but I knew enough to take a sec to make sure she hadn't tumble to the fact I'd totally flaked on the conversing and was lost in a Reddit feed on whether the latest craft brewery to open was perf or a total ass-up. She'd been spilling tea on a co-worker's failure to do more than produce greenhouse gases and I could not get into it. So, when she let up and asked if I'd heard that, I was smart. I listened.
We live on the top floor of a three-family home. Super common style in Hartford. We bought the place with the money our parents would've burned on the wedding. We covered the mortgage with rent from the lower two units. A third story walkup brings in the fewest Benjamins, so we took it.
These three-family houses are jammed tight. On one side, there's just enough room for a driveway. In ours, that side was the side the living room and kitchen were on. On the bedroom side, our building was only three feet from the other building. I could, I shit you not, lean out of our bedroom window and touch the other building. The whole block had been built in pairs, except for the houses at either end of the block. Each pair was enclosed by driveways. Our building was the mirror image of the building next door. It's like this: driveway- building-building-driveway. Cool? As stated, they're mirror images. I guess bedroom facing bedroom was felt to be better than bedroom facing living room. Maybe humans fucked less back then.
Any fuck, our bedroom is three feet away from our neighbor's. These houses are old, no A/C, at least not the kind everyone is used to in the modern era. There's a window unit in the other window but it wasn't hot enough yet to waste greenbacks on A/C that are better off stashed away for early retirement. The window beside the bed is open. It's not hot enough for A/C but hot enough you'll sweat your balls off without a window open or a fan.
So, was the neighbor's. Window, open, that is.
I hear it, alright. Once, Chrissy's yak yak shuts off, hearing was totally a no sweat proposition. Someone's little red corvette is being rogered in a most righteous fashion. There's a woman's soft "oh, oh, oh", harmonizing with a deeper, grunting, "uh, uh, uh", the rhythmic squeak of a bed frame and the banging of said bed frame against the wall provides a nice contrapuntal bass line.
It's fucking hot, sex-wise not thermometer-wise, and within a dozen heartbeats I'm sporting wood. I'm always fucking horny. Horny for Chrissy, horny for the sight of a nipple peeking through a tight shirt (fuck bras, just fuck them, the only good thing about them is their fun to take off, fun to trap your girl's titties in but mostly, fuck bras), horny for the amazing curve of a woman's ass. Horny. Fuck, dude. I'm twenty-eight, making a bit of coin, beautiful smokin' hot wife. I'm horny. If the rest of the world was as horny as I am there be a fuck ton less blowing up of shit, except, of course, the blowing of cocks and cunts.
So, any fuck, my cock goes from its baseline state of one-quarter to one-third hard to full-scale, rock hard, glorious tumescence. I'm prouder of my dick than I am my hair. I mean, I'm not a dick snob or anything, I just think it's a really fucking nice dick. I don't mean to give the impression I send a lot of time judging dicks; I don't. I'm not into dudes. I'm totally cool with dudes into dudes, it's not that, it's just dick, other than my own, just doesn't interest me.
The idea of sucking a dick doesn't gag me. I fucking hate it when dudes go on and on about how fucking gross sucking a dick must be. Fuck you, bro. If it's so fucking gross how can I ask the smokin' hot chick lying beside me to gooble my pole? I got zero desire to smoke a pole but the simple idea of it doesn't leave me weak in the knees with disgust.
WTF? Focus, asshole. Focus. I was bragging about my dick. No, it's not nine inches or ten inches or any other bullshit like that. If I pull really fucking hard, I can just brush the seven-inch line on the ruler. And that, mother fuckers, is above average. Look it up. The largest average erect dick was, stereotypes have a grain of truth, been found in the Congo, and that was just a little over seven inches. In the US, the upper range on average boner size is 5 and 3/4 -- inches. So, all you lying bullshit artist, posting about your eight and nine-inch dicks, fucking spare us already.
Back to me.
TBH, if I forgo pulling until I'm red in the face, I have a six-and-a-half-incher. It looks bigger. I'm trim to the point of almost too skinny. On the plus side, Chrissy fuckin' loses it when I shake my hips and my jeans fall off. I keep the pubes tamed. That helps. I don't shave, just trim, except the base of the shaft. Back when we still used rubbers, I learned to keep the hair off the shaft and pubes cropped short. Yanking out your pubes when you yank off a rubber fucking sucks. Any fuck, thin build and trimmed pubes makes my dick look bigger and hotter.
I leak like a farmhouse faucet. That helps. My cock is already drooling, the head glistening under its hood.
My parents were hippies; not really, they missed the sixties but they were or rather are, wannabe hippies. They didn't have me cut, thank god. (I don't believe in him so I don't capitalize him.) It may turn some chicks off but the ones that don't run and learn how to take advantage, holy shit, I mean sweet Jesus. (I don't think he was god but I do think he existed, in case you were wondering.) The first time Chrissy stuck her tongue under my foreskin, I fuckin' immediately nutted in her mouth. She was cool with it. It was the first time she'd blown me, so I was freakin' out. Not cool to nut in your girl's mouth until you've gotten the 'cleared for a landing' message.
She was cool. I freaked out more when she crawled up my chest and planted her mouth over mine. I didn't know what the fuck was happening. I swallowed some but most of it went down my chin and over my neck. She'd shaken her head sadly.
"Goose, gander, man up," was all she'd said before wiping the cum off my chin with her finger and sticking it in my mouth.
That freaked me out more than the unsanctioned nutting in her mouth had. She's so smokin' and the things she can do with her mouth are on some other higher fucking plane of existence, so I swallow my pride and went with it. Hey, that's fucking funny -- swallowed my pride. Totally unintentional but hilarious don't ya think?
Judge away, mother fuckers, judge if you must. Yup, my girlfriend, wife (the fact she's my wife now still wasn't stuck), makes me eat my own cum after she sucks my dick. If I'd let her blow you, you'd do the same, so fuck the fuck off.
