New neighbors

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• Latest update: 9 November. Next update: 23 November. (Submissions welcome.)

• Latest post: Saturday Flashback: No Shirts, No Problem.

• Latest from BRK: “Pool party”, Parts 1‑2.


I swear it’s not my fault. I didn’t know! I mean, how could I? Look, if you were a constantly horny 17-year-old and had just inherited secret wish powers from your recently dead grandfather and a couple of guys move into the big house next door and one is a dark-haired wet dream who looks like a goddamned professional model in his mid thirties and the other one looked like a delicious blond Adonis who should be banned by law from wearing shirts, you’d do what I did, right? Look, I’ll tell you what happened and you’ll totally get it.

I was lazing around in the back yard totally naked (I’d made it so people didn’t really care if I was naked or even boned, or even notice unless I wanted them to, especially my parents or the uptight dicks at school, though I hadn’t tested this yet as it was still the middle of summer), stretched out on a pool float (our house had a pool now! I totally loved it), trying to decide whether to go upstairs and beat off for the tenth time that day or just flog my enormous cocks right here in the pool (c’mon, I was so horny all the time, just couldn’t get enough of my cock, and stroking and sucking two of them—well, look, you’ll just have to take my word for it), when I heard a commotion from the old Davis mansion next door, the last house on the block and vacant for only a week. That was fast! I thought, falling out of the float and splashing into the perfect, cool water.

When the head of the Davis clan relocated to San Francisco for work at the end of June and took his noisy brood of shouty kids and scolding aunts with him (I didn’t do it! I wouldn’t! I’d only just gotten my abilities anyway, but even so!), I had lain in bed kind of wishing a couple of really hot gay guys—really, really, really hot gay guys, okay?—would move into the rambling old Spanish colonial, prowling its sun-baked archways and patios and balconies, making love in the lush back yard that sloped up into mine, with just a long iron fence in between (our neighborhood wasn’t big for fences, but Mr. Davis didn’t want the local dogs nosing around and trampling his wife’s azaleas). I hadn’t made it a formal wish, though, so my stomach was tingling with curiosity and anticipation as I swam to the edge of the pool and effortlessly hauled myself out (I wasn’t much more muscular than I had been before, but I’d made myself a lot stronger just out of sheer curiosity and also in case I ever ran into that stupid bully Darren again, though I hadn’t seen him all summer so I think he moved away).

I padded across the concrete that surrounded the pool (I modeled it off the sweet pool James Whale had in Gods and Monsters, with all the hot beefcake guys diving in and lounging around it—and I had almost, very nearly, included the guys as well) and then the wide back yard, enjoying the slap of my long, fat cocks against my firm thighs (god, I cannot even begin to tell you how much I love cock—seriously, cock is almost all I think about) and the warm, soft grass against my bare feet as I approached the six-foot-tall, iron fence. There was a lot of activity at the Davis house, both inside and outside, as movers carried boxes and lugged furniture from a huge moving truck parked along the arc of the big cul-de-sac that faced the Davis house on this side an the Hernandez house across on the other side. Through the windows I could see boxes and lamps and desks being carried up to the second and third floors, but not the fourth so far. They probably didn’t need it—it was a pretty damn big house.

My eyes drifted across the movers in their coveralls, noting absently that a few of them were cute and most totally weren’t, when—I saw them. Fuck. Even at this distance they grabbed my attention and held it. I felt my dicks chub just from seeing them standing there on the back deck, both in jeans and tight dark tee shirts (dark red on the younger one, dark blue on the older), discussing something with the foreman of the movers. As I stared at them the blond, who was just a bit taller than the other one and, from the breadth of his shoulders and the tautness of the fabric of his tee across his chest, seriously in need of a shirt removal, looked up and saw me, and my breath actually caught because his eyes were so bright and beautiful I could see it even from a hundred and fifty feet away.

He tapped the dark-haired one on the chest with the back of his hand, a gesture I thought was pretty adorable, and the dark-haired one looked up and met my gaze, and fuck. The younger one was bright-eyes and breathtaking, but the dark-haired one had eyes that fixed on you and fucking smoldered, and I was hard. As. A. Rock. My cocks got hard so fast they slapped against my abs, just below my swimmer’s pecs, and quivered there like steel poles struck with a mallet. Then they smiled at me, and I very nearly came. I stared at them, gaping, and they stood there, the blond still with his knuckles against the black-haired one’s chest, and enjoyed being stared at. The blond nodded his head back once, still smiling, sending the clear message, Come over and meet us!

Uh, yeah, okay. Fuck yeah.

The dark-haired one was saying something to the foreman, who was also looking at me with interest. It was evidently telling him they’d catch up later, because the foreman nodded and headed into the still-bustling house, consulting his clipboard. Meanwhile, the dark-haired hunk kept his eyes on me the whole time, and I stared back, deciding that this one was even more in need of a shirt-removal than the other one.

I started to make a wish in my head for there to be a gate in the fence in front of me, since there wasn’t any kind of ingress all along this side of their property; but they were watching, and I was still a little leery about making wishes and changing things right in front of people. (I knew I could fix it so people didn’t notice, but I wasn’t totally sure people wouldn’t have this unnerving residual sense that something was different, and I really wanted to keep my abilities secret like gramps had said in his vision—by the way, just how fucked up is it to get a vision of your still 45-looking and hunky gramps, which is weird in itself, after he’s decided he’s done with his wishpower and letting you have it as his last wish, and you’re in bed jacking off and now a phantasm of your hot gramps is talking to you about your destiny? Pretty fucked up is the answer.)

So I grabbed the top crossbar with both hands and used my new strength to sort of vault over, making sure my asshole wasn’t ripped open by one of the long pointy spikes that bristled along the top. It wasn’t elegant—I figured the judges wouldn’t exactly be giving me all sixes—but my strength made my confident I could clear it (I realized I could wish myself mad gymnast skillz just that second too late for the hoist, but I went ahead and did it in midair anyway and that’s probably what kept me from tumbling onto my face and sticking the landing instead—a little wobbly, but stuck, thank you very much!) and, once I’d caught my balance, I strode across the grass as if I jumped other people’s fences and introduced myself to achingly hot neighbors every fucking day.

I remembered I was hard in mid property-invasion, but I kept going, heading for the deck. I could have made myself soft again, but I really didn’t want to because my dicks felt so amazing when they were this hard. And it wasn’t like my neighbors would care anyway. They were watching me intently, though, and as I trotted up the stairs of the deck I saw that they were both looking me up and down, watching my muscles move, taking in my hotness. Yeah, I’m hot. If you know you’re hot, because you wished yourself to be and it happened, why be cagey about it? I’m fucking hot, though these guys were in another league. I caught up with them and just stood there, the three of us just sort of basking in each other’s company, and I wanted to check and see if they were as hard as I was, except I couldn’t look away from their eyes—blue for the dark-haired one, hazel for the blond, and both mesmerizing as fuck.

“Hi,” I said at last. “I’m your new neighbor.” I grinned at them, because that idea made me really happy.

“We saw,” said the blond, his voice low and rough in a way that just tore through me.

“We’re Kevin and Connor,” said the older, darker-haired one, indicating first himself and the blond.

“Jimmy,” I said. Kevin’s right hand started to lift from his side, but I didn’t want to shake hands. In my head I formed a lightning-fast wish, that the three of us should kiss hello, kiss always, that there should be a lot of kissing between the three of us and that Kevin and Connor thought it was no big deal for them to kiss me, separately or together. And then just like that the distance between us closed and they were surrounding me. I’d only made myself a few inches taller than I had been because, well, mainly because the guys on the basketball team were mostly tools I didn’t really like or get on with, much less want to spend hours with them on a bus to Topeka for the big playoff games I honestly didn’t give a fuck about. So I was a bit taller than Kevin but still an inch shorter than Connor.

Their arms snaked easily around me as they moved in for a three way kiss, and after a moment’s hesitation I followed suit, sliding my hands along the smooth tee-shirts clinging tightly to their nicely wide, very nicely defined backs. I had a heartbeat’s time to savor their smell—Connor’s clean and with a hint of laundry detergent, as if he’d just swapped shirts for a clean one, Kevin a little darker and spicier, like he’d worked out that day and you could still sense it even after the shower. And then, fuck, their lips were brushing mine together, tentatively at first, and then their faces shifted closer, our cheeks bumping as our mouths opened to each other and I felt two strong sets of wet, hot lips shifting and moving against mine and each other’s. A huge rush of heat blossomed all through me and my aching cocks strained for attention, but all I cared about in that moment was our three-way hug—their warm hands and arms pressing against my damp, hard, naked torso—and this awesome, deepening kiss. Fuck.

(Okay, I hadn’t had a lot of kisses, because I normally stayed away from getting other people to do things with my wishpower and I’d kind of lost control this time and a new and major way, but geezus, these guys were amazing at kissing. It was like kissing that involved everything inside you, kissing that made your guts roil with pleasure and need. And yeah, my fucking toes curled. My dicks were desperate for these guys and I was so into the kiss I couldn’t even hear them.)

After a few minutes of this we disengaged, still in our embrace, our faces hot and out mouths a little kiss-swollen; and then Kevin and Connor shared a look that had everything in it—tenderness, love, trepidation, revelation—before moving in for a sweet, beautiful kiss just between the two of them. They deepened it and then softened it again, then pulled away very slowly, letting their lips linger against each others’ before fully separating. Their eyes opened as they did so and they stared so intensely at each other that I felt my whole body surge with arousal and affection. I tightened my embrace, eyes dancing between them, and it seemed to make them aware of me again.

“Sorry,” Connor said huskily. “That was—we hadn’t done that before.” His eyes sought Kevin’s, and there was a bit of anxiety in them, like he was looking for—what? Reassurance?

I wasn’t paying attention (and because, as should be readily obvious by now, I’m also a clueless idiot), so I couldn’t make any sense of this—obviously they were a couple, obviously they were already living together, so I said, “What?” I was hazy with arousal from the proximity to these hot guys and the actual contact between us—we were close enough our torsos and hips and legs were touching, and Kevin and Connor’s hot breaths were ghosting on my cheeks.

Kevin glanced at me, his deep blue eyes dark but clear and sharp. “He means, here,” he explained. “We hadn’t christened the house yet.”

I nodded, but Connor furrowed his golden brows slightly. Kevin gave him a look that spoke of talking about it later, and then smiled at me and moved in for another kiss, just the two of us. I moaned into his mouth and quickly let him in, meeting him halfway and then some as he kissed me hard and thoroughly. After a few pounding heartbeats I felt Connor’s hot mouth brushing against my neck, lathing the warm, taut skin there, and I just about lost it.

After a few minutes of this we separated, and I turned hopefully to Connor. He smiled and obliged me with a deep and delicious kiss of his own. While I was enjoying his taste, Kevin brushed his lips against my ear and then said, in a very mock-romantic voice, “Want to stay for lunch…stud?”

I smiled against Connor’s kiss, and he smiled too. I turned to face Kevin, who went on, in the same fake-sensual tone, “Because we were about to break for some food, and you’re…welcome to join us.”

I bit my lower lip, meeting his eyes, and couldn’t help from giggling. I said, “I’d love to join you.”

The movers had pretty much finished as we moved into the house, and after Kevin answered a few questions about where to put the boxes and other stuff they hadn’t been sure about they wrapped up. Kevin signed off on the move and tipped the movers while Connor got me seated at the round table in the cozy breakfast nook and started breaking out sandwich makings onto a big tray from a picnic hamper on the kitchen island. “Good thing we always make extra,” he said, smiling at me in a way that already seemed familiar.

Kevin walked in and moved toward Connor, but then seemed to check himself, glancing at me. I frowned, not liking being the one to put a damper on their affection. Without any premeditation, I found myself making another wish, that they should be completely comfortable being demonstrative around me, whether it was touching or kissing or—whatever. And that being around me was something they didn’t mind. At all. I shook my head (I hate it when a wish goes off topic like that!) and watched as Kevin forgot his hesitation and wrapped his arms around Connor from behind, as Connor continued unpacking the food and opening containers and packages. Connor seemed surprised, but—amenable. Kevin kissed his neck, and Connor seemed to quiver with arousal. My own cocks surged in response, flexing against my perfect abs. I couldn’t see his crotch behind the island, but I was pretty sure Connor, at least, was as boned as I was. (Well, okay, not as boned as I was.)

“You guys are so hot,” I heard myself say. This made Connor blush. Kevin rested his chin on Connor’s shoulder near his neck and smiled at me. “How long have you two been a couple?” I asked.

Connor’s brows drew together slightly and he seemed about to say something, but Kevin jumped in. “We’ve—known each other a long time,” he said. “But it’s gotten a lot more serious—recently.”

“Very recently,” Connor muttered, sounding amused. Kevin kissed his neck again, and Connor’s lips quirked.

(Now, with the benefit of hindsight, I know that Kevin was fudging things so I didn’t cotton on to the fact that they weren’t a real couple, or at least, not in the way I thought. Connor picked up on it and played along, though I found out later they argued about it after I eventually went home for dinner. But I didn’t clue into any of this at the time. I admit I was a little distracted, or, okay, totally distracted, but—c’mon. Hello, McFly? Anybody home?)

(And yes, when I did figure it out, I acted out that very scene, knocking on my own head and everything. Oh well.)

“Okay, lunch is ready!” Connor announced, picking up the tray and moving around the island, Kevin following behind. This gave me my first unimpeded view of Connor’s crotch, and—damn. His big torpedo cock was jutting up at just to the right of vertical, maybe 1 o’clock, making a fine tubular bulge in his worn jeans. In fact it was big enough that it looked like the tip would be visible peeking over the waistband, if only that pesky shirt weren’t in the way.

I let myself make one more wish, and then I swore to myself I’d stop. That wish, of course, was that these guys liked being shirtless, especially around me, and wore shirts as seldom as they could get away with. Especially around me.

This wish, like the last two, had an instantaneous effect, as Kevin was reaching over his shoulder to grab the back of his shirt to haul it off. He paused in mid-reach, looking at me. “Do you mind?” he asked.

I shook my head, and the shirt was off him and in his hands before I had a chance to blink. Connor set down the tray and then casually did the same thing. I saw that I was right—not only did the vision of these toned Adonises include beautifully thick and exquisitely defined muscles and smooth, lickable skin, but right there at the bottom, poking up out of their jeans, both of them were sporting the exposed tips of major league cocks—Connor’s uncut and golden with a flush of red, Kevin’s cut and a little paler like the rest of him, the rosy blush of arousal standing out a little more in contrast, both with little beads of pre just emerging from their slits. I tried not to gasp.

“Hope you’re hungry,” Connor said as he settled into his seat between me and Kevin at the little table, his knees brushing mine.

I just laughed, feeling giddy enough that I was wondering if it was possible to be intoxicated by the immersion in the presence of sheer masculine beauty. I sure hoped so.

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