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Garrett’s a good lucking, straight, white lawyer whose life is about to change when new neighbors in his cul-de-sac force him to accept a new lifestyle.
Please note, this is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or any real locations is purely coincidental. This story is for audiences 18+ (or whatever the minimum legal age in your particular jurisdiction happens to be).
Most importantly, this story is not meant to depict real life where consent and safety between sexual partners is paramount.
As this is my first attempt at writing a story – ever- please feel free to rip it to shreds and provide feedback on how to improve.
Other than that, enjoy!
Being involved with work, I didn’t pay any particular attention when Terrance and Darnell moved into the vacant house in the cul-de-sac a couple weeks ago. In fact I probably wouldn’t have even noticed if I didn’t find the card they left on my doorstep inviting me to their house, which was today.
It was Eric and Rita’s old house, and the second house to the left of mine. Eric and Rita were nice – he was a firefighter (not the calendar kind), and I never could remember what Rita did, although she must have told me at least half a dozen times. Ultimately, I didn’t really hang out much with my neighbors, except for James and Vic. They’re all good people, I’m sure, to the extent we can truly ever know non-family members. The one exception being Manfred directly across from me, who — although is polite — strikes me as a bit of a used car salesman. It’s not that I’m rude, it’s just that I’m just busy. And if I’m honest, I don’t like overly nosy neighbors. I watch out for people’s houses when they’re on vacation, and vice-versa, but I don’t entertain gossip. And I definitely wouldn’t want people knowing about my personal business.
Like I said, the only real neighbors I talked to with any frequency was James, who lived directly next door on my left, in-between (now) Terrance and Darnell and myself, and Victor who lived across the road and one over to the right (next to Manfred). James is 39, works as a longshoreman, brown hair, and a still-thick Finnish accent after having grown up in Finland for the first 16 years of his life. Single (divorced his wife ages ago, or she divorced him – one or the other) but his 19 year-old son recently moved back home after finishing his undergrad diploma program. Something to do with computer sciences, or IT, I can never remember. I also want to say the son’s name is Rob, but it might be Flynn. I’m not too stellar with names either. The only reason I knew Terrance and Darnell’s name was because of their card they gave earlier.
As for Vic, I bonded immediately with him when I first moved to the cul-de-sac 5 years ago. He had a Toronto Maple Leafs flag flying outside. That was instant friendship right there. Vic was a shorter guy, 5 ’11, bald, 38 years-old. But muscular and good looking. Solid green eyes, brown well-kept goatee. For a short guy he has an incredibly deep voice – it’s actually pretty funny. He works for one of the local sawmills, but the mill suffers so many work shutdowns that he also does trucking. Vic’s married, somewhat. I mean he’s definitely married – I’ve met his wife Marilyn – but they’re somewhat quasi-separated. She purchased a condo a few cities away and moved out several months ago, but according to Vic they’re working on things (I didn’t raise the subject, he did). I thought for sure they were going to divorce, but I did see Marilyn’s car outside Vic’s house the past 3 days — so who knows.
As for the rest of the cul-de-sac, there are 14 houses in total including mine. It’s an L shape cul-de-sac, not your regular circular layout. And I will say that Eric and Rita were the only other neighbors other than I who actually made an effort when it came to Halloween decorations, so I appreciated them for that. (I tend to go all out with decorations — a fog machine, sound machine, full-size candy bars, ghoul projections, you name it). It was almost like a friendly competition between us each year, and we would scope out each other’s homes to get new ideas. So I’ll miss that. Unfortunately, the two decided to divorce and put their house up for sale. Hence Terrence and Darnell moving in.
I’ve been meaning to do the polite thing and go introduce myself to the new neighbors, at the very least, but work has been full throttle lately. I’m the newest associate attorney at the law firm in town. Nothing fancy, and with the average age of Westmore (the town I live in) being in the 60’s, it’s a lot of wills, estates, probate, and trusts. But I was hired specifically to build a family law division within the firm, and between handling divorces, mediations, and child custody disputes on top of everything else, I’ve been absolutely swamped. But I don’t want to complain.
At 31 I’m not exactly a youngling, I started law school in my late twenties, but I still have enough runway ahead casino oyna of me to build a career. There are 12 other attorneys at the firm, so I want to make a good impression and build up a solid book of clients. Westmore is a small to medium sized town, although it’s growing, and it’s going to be an up-and-coming place over the next few years. In the meantime, however, it’s a bit of a drag if you want any semblance of a social life. All the bars shut down early, none of the major stores are even in town (you have to travel to the next city over), and the dating scene isn’t the best. Not that I have the time to date anyways, but I’m not opposed to it. Although in a smaller-ish town you have to be careful, because everybody tends to know everybody, and I don’t want my love life to become public (again – I value my privacy).
I consider myself a fairly handsome white guy – 6’2, brown hair, blue-green eyes, groomed beard, and a toned verging on muscular 180 pounds. But as far as my romantic life goes these days – it’s been nothing but me jerking my cock 3-5 times per day. I thought about chatting up some ladies on Tinder, but I cringe at the thought that a perspective client could be on there. So no apps or dating sites for me. No point – too risky to date local, and I have no interest in a long-distance relationship. Maybe when I’m more established professionally, I’ll try an app.
But alas, back to the party. After work I swung by the liquor store, picked up some champagne, and got some pizzas from the Pie Guys (hands-down the best pizzeria I’ve been to yet) to bring to the house warming party. They’re local and delicious. I was already in a suit and tie from work, so didn’t feel the need to change and headed directly over to Terrance and Darnell’s (I parked at my house and just walked over with the grub).
It dawned on me when I rung the doorbell that I’d never actually been inside Eric and Rita’s place. I mean, I’ve stood outside it to check out their decorations during holidays, but that was it. After a few moments the door opened and two black gentlemen stood before me. The man on the left was huge, wearing a red shirt, blue jeans, and white socks. He had a short beard, short black hair, and dark brown eyes. Probably about 6’4 because he was slightly taller than me. But he couldn’t have been older than 40 – maybe 45. Thick, muscular arms and legs, with a broad chest – but also with a slight belly.
The man on the right was wearing a white long-sleeve shirt, also blue jeans, with the same kind of ankle-cut sport socks. He was about my same height, same kind of beard, but with a long gold chain around his neck, and very piercing green eyes. I’d never actually met a black guy with green eyes before. In fact, there weren’t very many black people living in Westmore, and definitely none in our cul-de-sac. I never thought about it before, but every who lived here were mostly single white guys like myself.
“Garrett!” the man on the left said in a deep, commanding voice.
“It is,” I said, surprised they knew my name. “And you two must be Terrance and Darnell?”
“I’m Terrance,” Said the man on the left, “And this is Darnell.”
“Nice to meet you,” said Darnell.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you guys” I said. I was still holding the pizza and champagne otherwise I would have shook their hands. “It’s almost like you knew I was coming or something!”
“Don’t mind us – we’ve been chatting with Vic, he said the fancily dressed one would be you,” Terrance said with a smirk. “Here, let us help you out with that” and they both grabbed the pizza and booze. “Come on in – feel free to take your shoes off and join us in the kitchen.”
I took my shoes off by the door and joined them in their kitchen. The house was nice – an updated rancher with modern furniture, open concept, nice crown molding and trim on everything. And the kitchen was stellar – modern stainless steel appliances, gas range, with a huge island with white quarts countertops, around which I saw James, Vic and several other guys from the neighborhood.
“Fancy a beer? ” Terrance asked me, handing me a bottle.
“Absolutely, thanks man.” I replied. After some chatting I found out Terrance and Darnell were buddies who had moved up here from Atlanta to work as engineers for one of the major hydro-electric facilities. I can’t remember their exact work titles, but it was something to do with building advanced level shit. Far smarter and way too technical for my understanding. Terrance was 40, Darnell 38. They had no other family here, but were looking to set up shop for the long term. The average rent around here was $2000.00 for a two-bedroom apartment, so it was actually cheaper for them to just buy a house, which they could turnaround a sell in a year or two for a profit.
We shot the shit for a few hours — and definitely for more than a few beers. I was bit drunk by this point, which I was okay with because I’m always in a good mood when drunk. canlı casino Most of the others had gone home except for Manfred, Vic, James, and myself. That’s when Terrance decided to switch up the drinks.
“Drink this,” He said while pushing what looked like a whiskey tumbler full of a white drink.
“Why – what is it?” I had asked, but he seemed to ignore my question altogether. It smelled sweet, but not overly so. I took a first swig, still feeling good from all the beer. It kind of tasted like a white Russian, but there was something a bit different in there that I couldn’t put my finger on. It was almost a bit earthy with a hint of bitterness, or maybe like a saltiness? I chalked it up to just being drunk. But right after I swallowed the last of it down Terrance had another one for me, with the flavor being even stronger. I figured what the hell, it’s been a long week. So I downed that one too. Terrance shoved yet another my way, but all the beer was taking its toll and I needed to piss.
“Can I use your guys’ bathroom?” I asked.
“Have to use my Master ensuite, the guest bathroom is still empty,” said Terrance. “Down the hall, on the right – just go in the room and the bathroom is on the right side.”
I left the dwindling kitchen party for the bathroom, taking in the layout of the house. Again – tons of nice furniture – even their bedroom was amazing. Pretty boss leather headboard, and frosted glass armoires. That shit was classy.
I went in Terrance’s bathroom, took out my cock and started to piss. As I was mid-stream, blissfully relieving my full and drunken bladder with a smile on my face, I happened to look stare blankly at the wall above the toilet, which had about 10 or 12 fancily framed photographs.
I’m not sure if it was supposed to be artistic or something, but all the photos were somewhat similar – there was one white guy in the center, with a buzz cut, wearing white basketball shorts, a black t-shirt, and a chunky silver necklace (honestly it looked more like an actual chain) with some sort of metal thing hanging from it. I was too drunk to see what it was. There were always two pictures of the same white guy: one with Terrance and Darnell on either side of him where everyone’s standing, and another with the white guy kneeling in the center, Terrance and Darnell on either side with their hands on the guys’ shoulders, and a group of what looked like 15-25 other black guys behind them all. There were a bunch of different white guys, and black guys, all smiling, and Terrance and Darnell looked to be in all of them.
I drunkenly laughed – the photos kind of reminded me of that meme where this tiny little while girl is surrounded a group of black guys in their boxers, very obviously about to get plowed by them. Either way, I was too drunk to care and didn’t care much for art even when I was sober anyways.
I finished pissing, shook, and zipped up. I turned on the faucet and soaped up my hands, glancing down and seeing what looked like a weird metal tube sitting on top of a folded blue wash cloth on the top left corner of the vanity counter. For a second I thought it looked like one of those bird-cage cock cages I had seen on the web, but this looked a little different. (I was curious about cock cages once, but not seriously). It didn’t look like it had a cock ring, there was just a thick metal pad at the base, which was wider than the rest of the tube. From the end of the tube where the cockhead would sit, extending outwards, was this long, clear plastic tube as thick as a straw – it looked to be six inches. But where the tube met the cylinder I could see there was some sort of metal thing in the tube – like a really fine spring or something. It caught my eye, but I didn’t think anything of it.
I finished washing my hands and joined everyone else at the kitchen. After another hour (and what must have been six of Terrance’s mystery drinks later — the man wouldn’t take no for answer), I decided to call it a night. Darnell insisted I and the boys come back over tomorrow – apparently Terrance and Darnell had a couple months before their official start date for work, and they wanted to show us the rec room, play some poker, maybe shoot the shit a bit more. But I knew I’d be busy with work, even on the weekend, so I gave my usual excuse of “I’ll let you know,” and set off for home.
Waking up Saturday morning was definitely not pleasant. At 31 I wasn’t bouncing back like I used to from a night of drinking. And of course I had received — I kid you not — 44 work emails, despite it being a weekend. If I wasn’t so hell-bent on making a name for myself at the firm, I probably would have saved some for Monday – but your reputation is everything when it comes to law.
The following two weeks went by pretty much the same. Work, work, and more work. I got invited every night to hang out with the new neighbors, but had to pass so I could work on files. James went out to his cabin for a little bit, but kaçak casino apparently Vic was over there all the time. I know, because I kept getting his texts about how awesome their gaming station was, the pool, and their VR headset. Vic seemed a little enamoured to be honest, I even caught him going over to Terrance and Darnell’s at 6:30 AM in the morning a couple days back, and then nearly midnight the other day. They’re going to have to get a restraining order against this guy, I chuckled to myself.
But he stopped text messaging me as much after the first week, and completely by the second, and I figured he got busy (although I still see him going over to Terrance and Darnell’s a bunch of times). Maybe he was just happy he got to play with all their shit without anyone else there, haha. Marilyn’s car was gone again, so then again maybe he was just lonely. I felt bad for him, I should make more of an effort to check in on him and see how he was doing. When I left for work this morning Vic was out mowing Terrance and Darnell’s lawn in nothing but shorts. Dude must be desperate for any interaction with others. I waved to say hello, but he didn’t see me and I had to get going.
After yet another particularly hard day’s work (and frustrating clients), I decided F*ck it, I’ll go hang out at Terrance and Darnell’s too. I texted Terrance and asked if they were free tonight. His response was short and simple “Be here at 6:00 PM.”
It struck me as a little dismissive, but then again guys don’t really read too much into shit, and definitely not with texts. Some texts sound more rude than how they were intended. I was raised never to show up empty handed to a guest’s place, so I cooked up a batch of wings, dug out a couple bags of chips, grabbed a 24 pack of coors, and headed on over around 6:00 PM.
Terrance greeted me at the door, wearing yet another pair of jeans (which left little to the imagination – he looked like he was smuggling a grapefruit in his underwear – I guess if you got it, flaunt it) and we went back into the kitchen. Because the house was open concept I could see straight into the living room, where Darnell and Vic were hanging out. Darnell was wearing his usual jeans and long-sleeve t-shirt, on the couch playing Call of Duty, with Vic was sitting on the ground by his feet. Vice wasn’t playing, he was just sitting there, no shirt, just the same white shorts I had seen him in this morning.
“Ah shit, were we supposed to go swimming? I didn’t bring any shorts,” I said.
“No, no swimming.” Terrance said. Huh, okay, I thought to myself. But whatever.
We had some more beers (plus there was a good spread of potluck food – Vic brought some barbeque), and pretty soon we were all getting pretty shit-faced for a Saturday night. Vic was a little different though. I hadn’t seem him since the house warming, but he was a little withdrawn. It was like I had to drag words out of him, and he wouldn’t even sit with Terrance and I at the kitchen island.
Almost like clockwork, Terrance was shoving his white mystery drink into my hand.
“Oh vey, this shit again.” I said laughingly.
“You’ll be addicted soon enough,” said Terrance without a hint of humor in his tone.
“Any chance you’re ever going to reveal what’s in here?” I chided.
“A true bartender never reveals their secrets,” Darnell piped in, without even looking over his shoulder – still focused on his game.
I laughed and took a big gulp. I swear to god that unusual taste must have been three times as strong, but somehow it almost tasted a bit better today than yesterday. After 5 more of Terrance’s drinks, and a few more beers, it was piss time.
I excused myself to Terrance’s bathroom. Again, I had full view of the porn-like pictures, and they still made me laugh. But as I was pissing I started to focus on the metal tube again. I fully admit I was curious about cock cages. I’d never buy one though. No point. I was single, and I loved jerking off. But I was definitely curious as to how it would feel.
So naturally, drunk me feeling good and bold, decided to try it out. After I shook the last drops of piss, I picked up the tube and slid it over my cock. It was about 3″ long, which fit my cock perfectly when soft (I was 6.5″ erect). Now I have to admit – maybe it was just the alcohol talking, but the cage actually felt kind of fun. Kinky, with a nice snugness. In fact it started to get me kind of hard. I adjusted my hand and pushed the tube harder on the base of my shaft to accommodate my growing erection, and I accidently pressed down on the metal pad.
In a flash, a circular metal band shot out from the right side of the pad, went around my nuts, and clicked into the left side of the tube, slowly tightening, pulling my cockhead snugly to the end of the tube. Holy fuck! – This WAS a cock cage – this thing had a fucking built in cock ring!!
Literally less than a second the ring surrounded my nuts, the plastic tube that looked like a straw on the outside of the metal tube started moving in! I felt it press against my piss slit. It started pressing harder, gradually growing pressure, until POP — I felt it push into my dick.
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