As I turned 18, my neighbor was an older single man. We always had a close relationship that remained platonic until I graduated high school and reached legal age. Although I knew he wasn't gay, he had never dated a woman in the nine years he lived next to us. He was slightly younger than my father, in the middle of his 40s. He kept his hair shaved bald and was slightly overweight. As I came into my own sexual awareness, I wondered how he dealt with his desires. After turning 18, I became very aware of what he did to combat his lack of female companionship.
On my 18th birthday, I knocked on his door not knowing he was in the middle of an intense masturbation session. In an orgasmic daze, he answered the door with a tent in his boxers. His bulging belly hung over the boxers, his skin tan and similar to that on his bald head. Unable to speak at the sight, I simply left. For months after this, I continued to interrupt masturbation sessions. Admittedly, I often listed for the sounds of moans and groans and then went knocking at my neighbor's door...hoping to catch a glimpse of the same tent I had seen the first time. I was always rewarded with what I sought.
I was nearly 19 when I knocked on my neighbor's door for a planned fishing trip. Listening closely, I heard the telltale moans and groans. For the last year, we had never discussed the tent pole in his pants when he answered the door. By now, the sexual tension between us was bubbling over. Horny myself, I moved to the side of the house beneath the window with the porn on TV. Soon, I was lost in my own pleasure...moaning, groaning, begging to be fucked...I began to cum and soon was aware the noise from the TV had stopped. I looked up to the window as I came and saw my neighbor staring at me, his face contorted in pleasure.