Reagan's Neighbor - Sex Stories

Reagan's Neighbor

At 28, Reagan still called himself The Almost Virgin. It wasn't his fault really. It wasn't that he hadn't sucked and fucked his way around, but discreetly. And, yeah, he admitted to himself, it was pretty vanilla and predictable.

At 28, Reagan realized his natural personality and way of being needed, well, the simplest thing is to say, he needed to be seduced. He eyed the hot dominant Daddys wherever he saw them in RL or on the Net. Their masterful presence always seemed to overwhelm and when he read the erotica about how they sexually took possession of younger men, it never failed to make his dick hard as stone and he would have to jerk off.

Thinking about it now, Reagan's fingers veered down and scraped along the front of his tight. denims. His dick shaft was already half-swollen and plump, the head growing sensitive. It was one of his fantasies that he'd be in some older man's living room, sitting beside him. There was hot porn on the television showing a young man sucking an older man's thick cock.

In the fantasy, Reagan felt the man's hand settle over his hardening dick in his jeans as they watched together. Then the man took Reagan's hand and placed it over his large hard cock in his pants. The size and hardness made Reagan gasp. And then he always woke up from the fantasy. With a lot of sticky clear precum that had leaked out through the crotch of his jeans. That turned him on, too.

Sometimes, Reagan would hang out on his bed, with his jeans pulled down just playing with his cock and balls. He was glad that he'd started shaving them, too. It felt awesome and looked hot, he thought. He'd squeeze his fingers around the rigid root just pushing down against his balls and imagine it was some older man. Seducing him. Whispering in his ear in a low manly voice, “Do you like that?”

Reagan would squirm, hearing the imaginary voice in his ear. “Yes,” he'd whisper in answer.

Then suddenly Reagan's fingers would be clutching the older man's heavy cock and hearing the man ask again, “Do you like that?”

“I fucking love this...Daddy,” Reagan, shocked, heard himself say. “May I suck on you...Daddy?”

Each time it cycled around, Reagan thought more and deeper about the fantasy. He surprised himself by absent-mindedly going through a whole bottle of lube masturbating. Like a small child's prayer at bedtime, every night in the darkness, Reagan would whisper out loud, “May I suck on you, Daddy?” before jacking off. It was a kind of sex life, he supposed. Though one-sided.

Then Mr. Jackson moved into the apartment right across from Reagan's. The second floor bedrooms facing each other with a slim balcony off the bedroom French doors. Reagan had been working from home that week and had his laptop out on the balcony with a chair to enjoy the brief winter sunshine.

With the drapes back and the French doors opened, Reagan could see right through his new neighbor's bedroom and part of his hallway. Of course, he realized with a start ...