A Room With A View

*** Disclaimer: This story is a complete work of fiction, written solely for entertainment purposes only. Any similarities to real life people, places or events are completely coincidental. This story also contains strong sexual content between two or more males, so if you find m/m relationships insulting or if it is illegal in your country to be reading this, please leave. Please don’t re-post this story without my consent, but other than that, sit back, unzip and enjoy! Please send any comments/criticisms to pudgunner [at] hotmail [dot] com

A few years ago, back when I was still working as a writer for a relatively successful local newspaper, I lived in an apartment complex called New Eden. It was nice in its own humble sort of way; whenever I thought of the place, my mind always conjured up images of the sun-bleached concrete buildings, stunning courtyards overflowing with blooming flowers, and of course, the gorgeous men roamed about the grounds.

The abundance of hot, young men however was no coincidence. The complex had been a haven for college-aged guys for years; mostly kids who were looking to live off-campus for a cheap price. This detail, plus the fact that a cluster of universities was stationed only one or two blocks away, convinced the heads of New Eden to actually reserve a section of the building just for university students to make a killing on their rent. I requested early on for my apartment to be conveniently stationed just across from this section, because truthfully, I saw the apartment as an opportunity to get some action with some younger men. Or at the very least get a room with a view.

Although the prospect of helping myself to some hot jock-snatch was enticing, living next door to these guys wasn’t always a good thing. I couldn’t tell you how many sleepless nights I’ve wasted because of rowdy frat-boys or obnoxious parties keeping me wide awake well into the night. However, every once in a blue moon, a real hunk would move into the area and I would take the opportunity to introduce myself, strike up a conversation and maybe convince him to let me suck his cock.

I know, I know, I sound like a dirty old man cruising after these young, fit men like that. What can I say? I have needs—plus I was always a gentleman about it. Half the fun was getting to know these kids; which usually wasn’t that hard. I had a talent for make people open up and feel comfortable around me; which probably acquainted to how disarmingly nice I can be, or maybe even my looks. I was always considered handsome, and at thirty seven, I was still turning heads whenever I waltzed on by. Think classical tall, dark and handsome persona coupled with a fit, hairy daddy physique. That sounds about right.

Lately though, my sex life had been pretty quiet. The holidays had just arrived, and most of the residents were gone visiting family and friends for Christmas and Hanukkah and such. This was a bit of a bittersweet time for me; California was a long-ways away from my homestead of Canada, and spending the winter months in sunny, thirty five degree weather was unpleasantly surreal for me, especially with all the Christmas lights strewn about the baloneys.

However, the nice weather always granted me an opportunity to sprawl over my lounge chair on my balcony deck with my laptop and brainstorm some ideas for some potential columns. I always found I worked better outside; the crisp, clear air and azure skies never failed to fuel my creativity and breathe new life into my psyche.

This is where my story with Warren began. I had woken up unusually early that morning, feeling the ache of hunger beckoning me out of the too-hot tangle of bed sheets. I shoveled through the pile of dirty laundry at the end of my bed, eventually finding a pair of relatively-clean burgundy boxer-briefs and a pair of jeans. I later shuffled shirtless into the bathroom to brush my teeth and comb out the unruly tangles out of my dark curls. After much deliberation though, I chose to skip my shave yet again; I was beginning to like the rough-and-tumble look of the prickly stubble that coated my neck, cheeks and chin.

It wasn’t until then that, glancing at the clock, I realized I had a good hour and a half before I usually left for work. So I decided to make something a bit more elaborate and filling for breakfast; which after some rifling through the cupboards, I whipped up a surprisingly delectable-looking pile of steaming blueberry pancakes, with a side of pineapple slices and a tall glass of perspiring milk.

With still lots of time to spare, I rewarded myself even further by taking my meal out to my balcony deck to bask in the oncoming sunrise that was scorching the sky. The oranges and pinks streaking across the horizon blended together seamlessly; like a watercolor painting. Sprawling out over the woven lounge chair, I took pleasure in the sun’s heat that was slowly seeping into my bare torso; causing my muscles to sigh in relief. Add a hot meal on top of that, and I had to admit; I felt like I was really living it up.

And just as I started to get comfy, my eyes mindlessly scanned over the glowing landscape, something suddenly caught my eye. Movement, small but indisputable in the stillness of the apartments, from across the small square courtyard; where the collage kids lived. Sitting up from my reclining position, I could now see that there was someone standing on the balcony two or three stories below.

He was a pretty big guy, from what I could make out; tall, long limbed and well built. He seemed to be hanging up—no, retrieving his laundry from one of the lines that adorned the sides of the baloneys. He was dressed in a simple, stained white tank top and faded blue jeans. This guy looked like the athletic type, although his meaty, taunt arms and frame could have been the product of whatever hard-labor jobs the local businesses had these kids working at these days for work. Either way, the stud had definitely caught my attention.

I stood up, striding to the balcony to take a closer look at my neighbor. He was slouched over the laundry basket now; trying to find something, I suppose. Now I had an excellent viewpoint of this kid’s ripe backside; which wasn’t too prominent in his baggy jeans, however, but they were drooping to the point where they only barely clung to his hips. His dimpled ass cheeks had my balls churning, as well as the deep crevice that divided them. I could practically smell his snatch from here. Hell, it looked like he wasn’t even wearing underwear. Maybe that’s what he was looking for in there…

Standing up, the stud peered out into the courtyard, his eyes finally settling unto me. I stared unflinchingly back at him, acting as innocent as I could. He looked very stern and distant; even in his obvious surprise at his newly discovered voyeur. He had long-ish, shaggy brown hair that curled around his ears and fell into his eyes. He also had a very hard, ridged jawline and a long, proud nose; crooked, probably from a fist fight in the past. I smiled as graciously as I could at him, giving a quick wave.

He stared at me long and hard, as if he was trying to see through me. Then without another word he turned around and stomped back into his apartment, basket in tow.

“Well, that went nicely…” I muttered under my breath. So much for scoring with laundry boy, I was missing out on a prosperous prize. Meh—he was probably straight anyways. Or was he? Maybe I came on too strong, or maybe he wasn’t into older guys, or he wasn’t into hookups. Or maybe he’s just an anti-social twat.

I shoveled by breakfast into my mouth, gulped down my milk and marched into the kitchen with my dishes; my throbbing erection aching painfully as I went.

****

I rubbed one out that night thinking about him. Imagining him on his knees and whining for me to drench him in my warm semen, his torso already dank and gleaming in a layer of sweat from our long, hard fucking. I just couldn’t get the boy out of my mind; something about him just made him irresistible to me, yet I never even got a good look at his face, let alone get to know his name.

The next morning I went through my normal routine. Got dressed, brushed my teeth, combed my hair and headed off to work with a quick breakfast; not daring to glance out my window in case I had another awkward encounter with my less-than-enthusiastic neighbor. But even at work, the day went by pretty uneventfully; I sent in my articles to the publisher after an unproductive witting session; you could say I was a bit distracted with thoughts of my new neighbor. After lunch, however, I got my two seconds of fame when the editor wanted to interview me to gain ‘Canadian’ perspectives on the paper. It was mostly just him asking about polar bears and igloos while I reluctantly played along with it.

And then I, well, sat around a lot. Real fun.

Glancing at my watch, I could see it was almost quitting time. Gathering my stuff, I drove home slowly, admiring the Californian silhouettes against the dull red sky. My stomach was growing painfully as I entered my empty apartment; I stripped myself of my work clothes and just wandered about the house in my boxer-briefs, thinking to myself.

What I was making for supper should have been the main thing on my mind, as I was about to head into the kitchen satiate my growing appetite with a good meal—but I just couldn’t help it. I returned to the railing to peer into the hunk’s apartment that was two or three stories below me. There was no movement inside, the windows were dark and empty; it was lifeless. Huh. Maybe I creeped him out more than I thought…

But then—yes! Not in the apartment or even the balcony, but in the courtyard—there was no mistaking it. It was him all right. He was leaning over the banks of foliage with a pair of clippers in his grasp as he slowly trimmed the hedges. He was also shirtless. Next to him were a few bags of plant feed and a wheelbarrow. So that’s what he did; he was the new garden-tender for New Eden. Hardly a job to scoff at; the place was huge, and the owners seemed to have gone out of their way to cover the place with as much plant life as possible, hence the name. I could only imagine how taxing it must have been to haul those bags of feed around all the time, let alone take on the strenuous effort of maintaining the gardens. Now wonder he was so buff.

I leaned over the balcony edge, eager to get another look at the stud. His broad shoulders were gleaming with sweat, tense with the effort of leaning over the rocky crevice between him and the hedge. He must have been working for a while. Standing up, he wiped the sweat off his brow with a gloved hand, brushing the strands of matted hair out of his eyes and giving me a near-perfect look at his well-sculpted torso. He had a gorgeous pair of tits—rigid, angular and crowning with big pink nipples. He also had a flat, nicely ridged abdomen, with a dark treasure trail leading from his belly button and disappearing under the waistband of his jeans.

I was already fully inflated in my jeans; my cock throbbing painfully inside the confines of my underwear. Then I relaxed, sighing. The only thing ogling was going to get me was blue balls, and in the end, this guy was just simply not into me. Reluctantly, I was about to leave the balcony until I noticed the stud was craning his neck to look at me.

I was transfixed by the intensity of his gaze; a piercing look from under a heavy brow, his eyes alight with a glint of something—something different from the last time I saw him. Was it frustration? Confusion? Lust? His furrowed brow showed facets of all three. He slipped off his filthy gloves, chucking them harshly aside on the grass. He paused. Then slowly, sensually, the hunk slipped one of his thick digits into his mouth. His pouty lips sucking on his finger until it shone with a fresh coat of saliva. Further, he ran his wet finger between the cleft of his chest, leaving a wet trail between the two mounds of muscle before finding a quarter-sized nipple, rolling the eraser-like tip between his fingers.

By now I was practically hanging over the balcony, grinding my now throbbing erecting into the metal post. I could hardly believe my luck. He licked his lips, obviously as turned on as I was, as his other hand slid down his glistening abdomen. The studs’ groping fingers soon sound their way inside the confines of his jeans, wrangling with what, in my imagination, was the expanding python in his pants; all the while, staring up at me, as if expecting something to happen.

I noticed how ragged my breath was; how hard my pulse rang in my ears. This sexy fuck was turning me on, I was panting like a dog in heat. I briefly glanced around, half expecting one of the residents to burst through the screen doors to charge us with sexual misconduct. But no one came, for they were all gone celebrating or working or sleeping or just plain gone. It was just me, and him.

He inclined his head downwards, to his crotch, as if asking ‘do you want more?’. To which I nodded instinctively. He smirked at the gesture, confident in my intent and breaking his glance to focus on his zipper. He bluntly unzipped his jeans and let them fall to his ankles, showing the full glory of his manhood for all to see.

Gripping his hefty piece in his open fist and slapping it on his abdomen playfully, I focused intently on his hard tool. His cock was built like a club; thicker on the end, and narrowing slightly near the base of dark, trimmed public hair. The shaft itself being thick and curved sharply upwards, the shaft easily filling his large fist. Deep purple veins ran along the length of his pole up to an obnoxiously bulbous cock-head, with a pair of low hanging balls dangling beneath.

He was gorgeous.

The stud smiled to himself, smouldering up at me as he slipped the foreskin back and forth over his now leaking cock-head. I myself had fished out my own throbbing rod a long while ago, and was slowly stroking it for my pleasure and his own personal peepshow. His eyebrows rose in surprise, seemingly impressed by my own rivaling manhood; a longer and thinner piece than his, nestled in a tangle of dark public hair with golf-ball sized balls. Both the breeze tickling at my exposed ass cheeks and the risk and rush of getting caught was making shivers run throughout my entire body.

The boy then pointed at me with his free hand, obviously indicating me, while his other hand was idly stroking his stiff prick. Then he curled his arm, showing off ever sinew and ridge of muscle of his impressive arm, before nodding at me. This cocky fucker wanted a gun show!

I let go of my dick momentarily, feeling a little sheepish raising my arms up in a similar position to flex. He nodded mindlessly, jerking off noticeably faster at the sight. I grinned, straining to sticking my tongue out to lick at the soft, musky hairs at my arm pits for my new friend; lapping teasing with the tip. Then, I ran my hands along my tits, my fingers entwining through the hairs on my chest as I gripped the mounds of flesh in my hands. I had never stripped for anybody before, so I felt a bit foolish, but this guy seemed to be enjoying it well enough so I continued. Crossing my arms, I gave the kid a nice view of my manly cleavage, beaming down at him.

Feeling more confident in my endeavor, I wanted a certain request of my own. I mouthed the words ‘turn around’ down to him. At first he looked confused, before I made small circles with my index finger to indicate my desire. Chuckling, he edged around, showing me what I had been dying to see for nearly two days now. His ass was high and round, with the same cute dimples I remembered marking the small of his back. I could also see he had a nice pair of grapefruit sized calves and thick thighs covered in a light down of brown hair.

He ran his hands down his waist to grip his firm butt cheeks, gripping the mounds of muscle and jiggling it in his hands before giving as harsh slap to his rear which rang loudly throughout the courtyard, causing my dick to pulse in my hands. He continued to run the length of his hand between his hot, moist crack, his fingertips slowly massaging his asshole. The stud glanced over his shoulder, giving me a flash of his white teeth before sucking his fingers into his mouth to taste his own sweet man cunt.

Just as the show was getting good, the inevitable happened. The sudden slam of a door echoed throughout the courtyard, caused both of us to jump. I feverishly stuffed my manhood back into my boxer-briefs, getting ready to bolt inside until I remembered the kid down there with dick in hand and jeans around his ankles. I scanned for his naked frame, thinking him gone until I saw a flash go for the concrete staircase, watching him disappear into the building.

I sat on the lounge chair, my heart pounding. I was hard, hot and heaving. Then I started to laugh. The image of him running was burned into my mind; his plump, bare ass around the staircase corner with his faded jeans clumped under his arm. I laughed till my eyes watered, and my sides ached.

I knew I would be seeing his sexy ass again. And soon.

***

Notes From The Author

Greetings ladies and gentlemen! Hope you enjoyed the story, as it was my first official piece of written erotica. I’ve been an avid reader on Nifty and erotica in general, and I always wanted to write some of my own someday. However, my frequent writers block and lack of motivation held this story back for quite some time. That is, until now. I will most definitely be writing a second part to this, which will come out—whenever it’s ready. Until next time though, I’ll be writing as avidly as possible!

Many Thanks, - Pud Gunner

*** PS: And if you’re wondering, no, none of this is true—sadly—this whole event was completely conjured out of my head. Well, maybe not entirely—I was immensely inspired but a few manipulations I saw on the blog ‘Hunks N’ Heroes’. So I suppose you could consider those pictures of Jared Padalecki to be an official depiction of Warren here. The links to these are held below.

Fake Pictures
1: https://heroesnhunks.com/images/beefcake/jaredpadalecki/fakes/02.jpg
2: https://heroesnhunks.com/images/beefcake/jaredpadalecki/fakes/22.jpg