This is a story from my most recently published book of erotic M4M stories called In Service. Check it out if you like my work!
“I’m coming down,” Trevor’s mother called in warning as she descended into his basement bedroom with the laundry. She’d learned enough about living with her college-aged rugby player son to know that a warning call saved them both the embarrassment of any surprises.
“Good news,” she said, laying the laundry basket down and handing her son the cup of coffee she’d managed not to spill, “I met the new neighbor next door. Nice man. He and his wife moved in a couple weeks ago. Surprised they’d take on that big house with no kids.”
“How is this good news Mom,” Trev asked with exasperation as he pulled the worn University of California Rugby shirt that he’d worn as a good luck charm since acceptance to the school over his muscled torso.
“I was getting to that,” she said wearily, “turns out he travels and works a lot and she spends the summer at their house in, Montecito was it, anyway, he needs someone to do work around his garden and care for the house while he travels and I told him you’d do it.” She preempted her brawny son in his protest before he could begin, “Listen, I know your suspension from the school was a disappointment, but you can’t just lift weights and play video games in the basement all summer.” And jack off, lots of jacking off, Trevor corrected to himself. “This will give you some money and purpose. It’s easy work. He had to leave for a trip this morning but said he’d leave a note with instructions and the keys on his back porch. C’mon honey, it’ll do you good.”
Trev begrudgingly agreed with his mother, though he wouldn’t admit it to her. He’d been ecstatic to get a full ride to UCal on a rugby scholarship and partied and played his way through his first semester. But unable to keep his minimal GPA requirements, the school put him on probation to get himself together with the agreement he could come back next fall IF he successfully completed a makeup course over the summer. Even if he passed the class successfully, his scholarship for next year remained in question, which would put a meaningful financial burden on the young athlete. This unexpected turn threw the young rugby stud into a funk. He moved home and relocated to the basement where he could spread out and have some privacy. He’d set up a small gym with his equipment by the glass window that looked out onto their backyard and the tall row of hedges that separated their place from his new neighbor. Despite the towering evergreen trees, the upper floors of the large, white house were still visible and there was a clear view of the master bedroom’s balcony down into his yard. On horny nights, which was all nights for the testosterone-fueled Trev, he looked up while stroking in hopes of catching a glimpse of Mrs Stanford, the previous owner, wandering out onto the balcony in her sheer nightgown, or better yet nude. But the neighbor proved too modest, and Trev was left to fantasize about his sexy older neighbor. Now she was gone, and he would be mowing the lawn instead of plowing her fields as he’d hoped.
The next morning after coffee, his workout and his first good wank of the day completed (he averaged at least three) he walked through the sliding glass door of his makeshift basement apartment and cut through an opening in the tall evergreen hedge to his neighbor’s house. He’d been warned since he was a kid of pushing through those bushes. It takes no time to walk out the front door and over one house, his mother would holler after him, but if there was a shortcut, Ole Trev was going to take it.
The Stanford’s son was more than ten years younger than Trev, so he hadn’t spent much time when the previous owners lived there, and only had a vague recollection of the house from brief visits trick-or-treating or dropping poinsettias at Christmas. He looked around the garden and was impressed with the changes that had been made – a large screened in porch and outdoor patio area with a firepit and seating that abutted a sparkling swimming pool. Not a bad place to party, he thought as he climbed the stairs to the screened porch that overlooked the impressive property.
Thanks for the help Trevor, the note on the rattan coffee table read, Please grab the mail and do a walk-through in the house every day then skim the pool and clean the filter. Feel free to take a dip if you want. At the bottom, a signature, Alec Rush, and his mobile number. To the side of the note, a one hundred dollar bill.
Not bad, Trevor thought as he snapped up the bill and slipped it into the pocket of his workout shorts. He ambled back down to the pool house where he found the skimmer along with towels and pool floats, imagining himself living here and the wild parties he’d have. The summer sun had already baked the pool surround like a pizza stone against his bare feet and Trev looked around for a moment before peeling off his tank top and shorts and jumping into the water. The young stud hadn’t considered that the property was wired with security cameras that surrounded the gardens and house. And what did he care anyway? Trev was no prude particularly when it came to the worked-out jock bod of which he was so proud. After a few laps he grabbed the skimmer and progressed slowly around the pool, enjoying the heat of the sun against his naked body and the breeze through the wavy blond hair that framed his square jaw. He loved the way his cock and balls lapped against the water’s surface when he progressed up to the shallow end, the summer breeze against his naked body. He laid on one of the lounges just long enough to dry and get a flush of golden-red from the heat of the sun before heading into the house to check it out.
Like the garden, the house had been significantly upgraded since Trev had last been inside. A large sunken living room perfect for watching the game connected the back porch to a long staircase at the front of the house. Trev checked out every room – the kitchen, a study, a well-stocked bar downstairs and four large and sunny bedrooms upstairs. When he reached the master bedroom he paused and felt his cock, dangling free in his brash nudity, twitch at the thought of Mrs Stanford, her long brown hair and tight body encased in yoga pants as she waved at him, mat rolled under her toned arm, on her way out. He circled the bed, his cock now stiff as his hand unconsciously teased it, and walked to the large French door of the balcony. He looked straight down into his own basement room and wondered if she’d ever seen him naked and jacking off to her. The thought made him horny as hell and the idea of rubbing out another one in her old bedroom came to him like a genius inspiration.
He leaned his back against the glass door, the sun streaming in to warm his bronzed skin and, spitting into his hand, began to stroke the large, insatiable piece of meat between his thick thighs. With slow, steady strokes he teased himself, his hand sliding over his wet head in a way that felt great to Trev. He pictured Mrs Stanford on her knees before him, maybe kneeling on her yoga mat, giving him energetic oral. His pace quickened as he cupped his engorged balls, imagining his hands on the back of his neighbors’ head as he drove his shaft deep down her throat. His abs began to clench as he felt himself reaching a quick climax and he grunted out moans with each contraction as he expertly caught the jets of spunk in his left hand. Trev walked carefully to the bathroom, both hands still full, to clean up before finding his clothes and grabbing the mail. He didn’t think about the ghostly specter that his broad, muscled back had made against the master bedroom’s window. He didn’t notice the small wet stains of precum that had dripped from his young, stallion’s cock and would dry almost imperceptibly on the carpet. Trev wasn’t a detail-oriented guy.
Everything looks good Mr Rush, Trev texted his neighbor’s number later that night, I left the mail on the counter and will check in again tomorrow. An hour later, a thumbs up emoji pinged as the athlete finished a last set of benchpresses before winding down for bed. As he lay in bed absentmindedly brushing his gym-calloused hand against the building erection in his shorts, he noticed the light in the master bedroom click on. Likely a timer though he’d never noticed it before. He stroked with a bit more intent as heat built with the memory of his sneaky session next door earlier that day.
* * *
Ten-minute run, bench presses, dead lifts, squats, shoulder presses, biceps curls and pull ups as a finisher. Nothing got Trev’s blood pumping and his testosterone on high than a good workout. And nothing made him hornier.
He slid through the bushes with what was left of his protein shake and walked through his short list of responsibilities. Once completed he wandered around downstairs in the house. He looked for pictures of his neighbors but found none in the beautifully appointed but impersonal space. He looked through the refrigerator. A few basics that he supposed made sense for a guy whose wife was not home food shopping for him. But the liquor cabinet, now that was another story. Well stocked with everything a good bar needs and luckily, some of Trev’s favorites. While Trevor embraced a clean lifestyle – whole foods, lots of sleep, exercise and water, he did like an occasional buzz, especially if someone else was paying. So, his protein bottle rinsed and refilled with vodka and some lemonade he found in the refrigerator, he made his way back out to the pool and recovered a float from the pool house. With a cursory look around he stripped off his rugby shorts and worn out UCal tee and settled himself on the float, cup in hand, for a well-earned nap in the sun. He dozed in and out as the float bobbed along the surface of the water, his body bronzing and threads of sunkissed golden light emerging among his blond curls. At one point he woke, still have asleep and a bit drunk, to find his cock at full staff and in need of attention. His eyes rolled back in his head as he stroked away at it, the float bobbing along and creating small waves across the surface of the pool with every lazy stroke. The image of the muscled hunk, wet and shiny, pleasuring himself surreptitiously in his neighbor’s pool was a sight to behold. A sight he believed no one saw as he brought himself to a languid and satisfying finish before dropping sideways off the float, cup in hand, to rinse off and wake up before closing up for the day.
The shadows had begun to slant across the back yard when Trev dried himself off and walked back through the house for a final check before leaving. He refilled the gap in the vodka bottle with water from the tap and made sure the refrigerator was closed. Trev thought he was pretty clever, covering his tracks like that. When he reached the end of the hallway to confirm that the front door was locked, he passed the darkened study located under the grand staircase and spun in shock when he heard a voice.
“You must be Trevor. Come on in.”
As he walked into the darkened room he could just make out the figure of a man sitting at the large desk, slim light through the darkened blinds behind him framing a powerful silhouette.
“I..I’m sorry Mr Rush. I didn’t realize you were here,” the young stud said, still reeling from the shock of discovery.
“Well, you should be sorry, my boy. I came back unexpectedly last night and have been surprised and pretty disappointed at the way you’ve treated our home. Come see for yourself.”
Trevor walked around the desk and watched the security footage of himself, displayed on the large computer monitor, jacking off in the bedroom, again in the pool earlier that day and finally an image of his broad, naked back as he bent over the liquor cabinet.
“Your mother said you were a reliable boy. I have to say, this isn’t what I expected. And as an alum of UCal and a board member, I would expect more of a fellow Oski.”
“I’m sorry sir,” Trev replied with real contrition at being caught, deepened by the realization that Rush had influence at his school. “I should have been more respectful. I promise, if you give me another chance, I’ll do better.”
“Well, I was young once myself and I know that young men have, well, urges. Why don’t we do this. You come by tomorrow and I will give you some extra chores to make up for what you’ve done. If you do them well, we can take it from there.”
“Thank you sir,” Trev said, suddenly aware of his exposed nakedness in front of his neighbor. “I’ll just grab my clothes and head out. I’ll be back bright and early tomorrow if that’s ok sir.”
“Perfect. See you around nine. Oh, and Trevor, bring me your clothes and leave them on my desk on the way out.
It was an odd request, but Trevor was in no position to protest. He gathered up the worn tee shirt, the rugby shorts and the jockstrap from the poolside pile he’d left earlier that day, and placed them in atonement on his neighbor’s desk.
“Good boy,” the shadowed man encouraged as Trevor laid them down and excusing himself, slipped naked back through the bushes and into the safety of his basement room.
* * *
“How are things over at the Rush’s,” his mother asked as she laid the plate of scrambled eggs in front of her son. Trevor ate voraciously and she struggled to keep up with his athlete’s appetite.
“Good,” he said curtly as he picked around at the eggs. She thought it unusual for him to not dive into them with gusto the way he usually did, but she was happy he seemed occupied with something. She loved her son, but he could often be maddeningly vacant when it came to self-introspection. “I gotta go back there today and do a few things so I’ll be most of the day.”
“Maybe I’ll pop by – get a peek at what they’ve done to the place.”
“No,” he replied aggressively before she’d even finished her sentence. “Rush is back from his trip and it would be weird for you to come snooping around. I’ll let you know next time he’s gone.”
“Ok, ok, you don’t have to bite my head off,” she said, studying the plate of untouched eggs as they cooled on the plate.
“Good morning Trevor,” Mr Rush greeted him from the patio the moment the muscled stud slid through the hedges. “Nice to see you here bright and early as promised.”
The man sat regally in a panama hat and sunglasses at the patio dining table that gave him the best view of his impressive property. While the hat and glasses concealed much of his face, Trev could see that he had the strong build of a former athlete who had kept himself in shape. A spread of fruit and coffee and eggs was laid elegantly before him on china, and the overall impression he gave was of a master of all that he surveyed. Trevor was impressed and intimidated by the figure all at once, particularly recognizing the power disparity that his unruly behavior had created between the two men.
“First thing’s first. Go ahead and take off those clothes. I know you prefer to work without them.” Trevor hesitated for just a moment, “Oh come on, you know you’re proud of the way you look and we’re both guys here. Go ahead. Strip them off. That’s a good boy.” Trevor complied and in a moment stood naked before his employer for the second time since they’d met. “You look great. All that time floating around in my pool has given you a deep all-over tan. Looks good on you. Now, let’s go upstairs and you can start by cleaning up the little mess you made in our bedroom.
Rush led him through the house and up the graceful stairway to the master bedroom.
“I think this big, broad smudge on my window belongs to you,” he asked with a smile.
“Yes sir.”
“OK then. The cleaning supplies are in the bathroom closet. Let’s start there.
The man stood observing the stud as he polished away the impression of his own indiscretion.
“What were you thinking of when you did that, Trevor. Something must have made you excited to be in our bedroom.”
“To be honest sir, I was thinking of the woman who used to live here. I had a crush on her.”
“Ah, I see. I understand that. I remember those days myself. Describe her to me.”
As Trevor cleaned he confessed how he used to covet Mrs Stanford, and the nights he’d lay in bed thinking about her. Rush had a way of coaxing information out of the simple-minded athlete, and he felt almost unable to refuse his low, steady commands.
“Now, let’s get this rug cleaned.”
In a moment, Trevor found himself down on his hands and knees with a rag and small tub of soapy water.
“Get right down in there. It’s a bit hard to see where you spilled,” the man said, and Trevor felt a slippered foot press on his broad shoulders until his nose practically touched the rug and his big, muscled haunches were raised high in the air. “That’s it,” the man encouraged.
When he was done Mr Rush sent him out into the garden to do some trimming and weeding. Trevor was surprised at his own eagerness to make his neighbor happy. The man had reached a level of success that the young athlete wanted to emulate and he found his employer confidently persuasive in every command he uttered to the boy. He was not cruel or aggressive, but spoke with a quiet intensity to which the young jock responded without question.
“I think I’m done sir, if you want to check my work,” the boy said after a sweaty day of trimming and weeding the garden.
“This looks fine Trevor. You’ve done a good job. You’ve earned a break. Take a dip in the pool to cool off, why don’t you?”
Trevor enthusiastically obeyed and was relieved when he emerged from the cool water and draped his big arms over the edge of the pool.
“Go ahead now and finish off. I know how much you like to jack off when you’re at my house,” the man commanded, pointing to the pool float at the edge of the water.
“But,” Trevor half-protested, for the first time that day.
“Be a good boy now and do as I say.”
In a hazy set of moments afterwards, the young athlete found himself on the float, working his hardened tool to full salute as his employer, sitting on the edge of the pool on a chair, one foot holding the float near him, watched the young man.
“Make some noise, that’s it. No need to hold it in. I know how good it must feel.”
Trevor performed as instructed, strangely aroused by the show he was performing for an intent party of one. He pulled away at the monster between his thick, beefy legs and created ripples of content across the mirrored pool surface as his body began to contract in spasms of ecstasy.
“Don’t cum yet. Not until I tell you. That’s a good boy. Looking good Trev.”
The instructions had the strangest influence on the rugby stud. He wanted to please, and he was aroused at the gentle but insistent guidance of the older man.
“Please. I have to cum,” he shuttered at last, no longer able to hold back and in wave after wave of relief he covered his abs in a thick creamy film.
“I didn’t say it was ok, but we can work on that. You’ve done good work today Trevor. I’ll see you tomorrow, same time.” The man handed Trevor a folded sheaf of five, hunred-dollar bills. “Now, get your clothes on and get out of here. I have things to do.”
“I’m coming down,” Trevor’s mother called in warning as she descended into his basement bedroom with the laundry. She’d learned enough about living with her college-aged rugby player son to know that a warning call saved them both the embarrassment of any surprises.
“Good news,” she said, laying the laundry basket down and handing her son the cup of coffee she’d managed not to spill, “I met the new neighbor next door. Nice man. He and his wife moved in a couple weeks ago. Surprised they’d take on that big house with no kids.”
“How is this good news Mom,” Trev asked with exasperation as he pulled the worn University of California Rugby shirt that he’d worn as a good luck charm since acceptance to the school over his muscled torso.
“I was getting to that,” she said wearily, “turns out he travels and works a lot and she spends the summer at their house in, Montecito was it, anyway, he needs someone to do work around his garden and care for the house while he travels and I told him you’d do it.” She preempted her brawny son in his protest before he could begin, “Listen, I know your suspension from the school was a disappointment, but you can’t just lift weights and play video games in the basement all summer.” And jack off, lots of jacking off, Trevor corrected to himself. “This will give you some money and purpose. It’s easy work. He had to leave for a trip this morning but said he’d leave a note with instructions and the keys on his back porch. C’mon honey, it’ll do you good.”
Trev begrudgingly agreed with his mother, though he wouldn’t admit it to her. He’d been ecstatic to get a full ride to UCal on a rugby scholarship and partied and played his way through his first semester. But unable to keep his minimal GPA requirements, the school put him on probation to get himself together with the agreement he could come back next fall IF he successfully completed a makeup course over the summer. Even if he passed the class successfully, his scholarship for next year remained in question, which would put a meaningful financial burden on the young athlete. This unexpected turn threw the young rugby stud into a funk. He moved home and relocated to the basement where he could spread out and have some privacy. He’d set up a small gym with his equipment by the glass window that looked out onto their backyard and the tall row of hedges that separated their place from his new neighbor. Despite the towering evergreen trees, the upper floors of the large, white house were still visible and there was a clear view of the master bedroom’s balcony down into his yard. On horny nights, which was all nights for the testosterone-fueled Trev, he looked up while stroking in hopes of catching a glimpse of Mrs Stanford, the previous owner, wandering out onto the balcony in her sheer nightgown, or better yet nude. But the neighbor proved too modest, and Trev was left to fantasize about his sexy older neighbor. Now she was gone, and he would be mowing the lawn instead of plowing her fields as he’d hoped.
The next morning after coffee, his workout and his first good wank of the day completed (he averaged at least three) he walked through the sliding glass door of his makeshift basement apartment and cut through an opening in the tall evergreen hedge to his neighbor’s house. He’d been warned since he was a kid of pushing through those bushes. It takes no time to walk out the front door and over one house, his mother would holler after him, but if there was a shortcut, Ole Trev was going to take it.
The Stanford’s son was more than ten years younger than Trev, so he hadn’t spent much time when the previous owners lived there, and only had a vague recollection of the house from brief visits trick-or-treating or dropping poinsettias at Christmas. He looked around the garden and was impressed with the changes that had been made – a large screened in porch and outdoor patio area with a firepit and seating that abutted a sparkling swimming pool. Not a bad place to party, he thought as he climbed the stairs to the screened porch that overlooked the impressive property.
Thanks for the help Trevor, the note on the rattan coffee table read, Please grab the mail and do a walk-through in the house every day then skim the pool and clean the filter. Feel free to take a dip if you want. At the bottom, a signature, Alec Rush, and his mobile number. To the side of the note, a one hundred dollar bill.
Not bad, Trevor thought as he snapped up the bill and slipped it into the pocket of his workout shorts. He ambled back down to the pool house where he found the skimmer along with towels and pool floats, imagining himself living here and the wild parties he’d have. The summer sun had already baked the pool surround like a pizza stone against his bare feet and Trev looked around for a moment before peeling off his tank top and shorts and jumping into the water. The young stud hadn’t considered that the property was wired with security cameras that surrounded the gardens and house. And what did he care anyway? Trev was no prude particularly when it came to the worked-out jock bod of which he was so proud. After a few laps he grabbed the skimmer and progressed slowly around the pool, enjoying the heat of the sun against his naked body and the breeze through the wavy blond hair that framed his square jaw. He loved the way his cock and balls lapped against the water’s surface when he progressed up to the shallow end, the summer breeze against his naked body. He laid on one of the lounges just long enough to dry and get a flush of golden-red from the heat of the sun before heading into the house to check it out.
Like the garden, the house had been significantly upgraded since Trev had last been inside. A large sunken living room perfect for watching the game connected the back porch to a long staircase at the front of the house. Trev checked out every room – the kitchen, a study, a well-stocked bar downstairs and four large and sunny bedrooms upstairs. When he reached the master bedroom he paused and felt his cock, dangling free in his brash nudity, twitch at the thought of Mrs Stanford, her long brown hair and tight body encased in yoga pants as she waved at him, mat rolled under her toned arm, on her way out. He circled the bed, his cock now stiff as his hand unconsciously teased it, and walked to the large French door of the balcony. He looked straight down into his own basement room and wondered if she’d ever seen him naked and jacking off to her. The thought made him horny as hell and the idea of rubbing out another one in her old bedroom came to him like a genius inspiration.
He leaned his back against the glass door, the sun streaming in to warm his bronzed skin and, spitting into his hand, began to stroke the large, insatiable piece of meat between his thick thighs. With slow, steady strokes he teased himself, his hand sliding over his wet head in a way that felt great to Trev. He pictured Mrs Stanford on her knees before him, maybe kneeling on her yoga mat, giving him energetic oral. His pace quickened as he cupped his engorged balls, imagining his hands on the back of his neighbors’ head as he drove his shaft deep down her throat. His abs began to clench as he felt himself reaching a quick climax and he grunted out moans with each contraction as he expertly caught the jets of spunk in his left hand. Trev walked carefully to the bathroom, both hands still full, to clean up before finding his clothes and grabbing the mail. He didn’t think about the ghostly specter that his broad, muscled back had made against the master bedroom’s window. He didn’t notice the small wet stains of precum that had dripped from his young, stallion’s cock and would dry almost imperceptibly on the carpet. Trev wasn’t a detail-oriented guy.
Everything looks good Mr Rush, Trev texted his neighbor’s number later that night, I left the mail on the counter and will check in again tomorrow. An hour later, a thumbs up emoji pinged as the athlete finished a last set of benchpresses before winding down for bed. As he lay in bed absentmindedly brushing his gym-calloused hand against the building erection in his shorts, he noticed the light in the master bedroom click on. Likely a timer though he’d never noticed it before. He stroked with a bit more intent as heat built with the memory of his sneaky session next door earlier that day.
* * *
Ten-minute run, bench presses, dead lifts, squats, shoulder presses, biceps curls and pull ups as a finisher. Nothing got Trev’s blood pumping and his testosterone on high than a good workout. And nothing made him hornier.
He slid through the bushes with what was left of his protein shake and walked through his short list of responsibilities. Once completed he wandered around downstairs in the house. He looked for pictures of his neighbors but found none in the beautifully appointed but impersonal space. He looked through the refrigerator. A few basics that he supposed made sense for a guy whose wife was not home food shopping for him. But the liquor cabinet, now that was another story. Well stocked with everything a good bar needs and luckily, some of Trev’s favorites. While Trevor embraced a clean lifestyle – whole foods, lots of sleep, exercise and water, he did like an occasional buzz, especially if someone else was paying. So, his protein bottle rinsed and refilled with vodka and some lemonade he found in the refrigerator, he made his way back out to the pool and recovered a float from the pool house. With a cursory look around he stripped off his rugby shorts and worn out UCal tee and settled himself on the float, cup in hand, for a well-earned nap in the sun. He dozed in and out as the float bobbed along the surface of the water, his body bronzing and threads of sunkissed golden light emerging among his blond curls. At one point he woke, still have asleep and a bit drunk, to find his cock at full staff and in need of attention. His eyes rolled back in his head as he stroked away at it, the float bobbing along and creating small waves across the surface of the pool with every lazy stroke. The image of the muscled hunk, wet and shiny, pleasuring himself surreptitiously in his neighbor’s pool was a sight to behold. A sight he believed no one saw as he brought himself to a languid and satisfying finish before dropping sideways off the float, cup in hand, to rinse off and wake up before closing up for the day.
The shadows had begun to slant across the back yard when Trev dried himself off and walked back through the house for a final check before leaving. He refilled the gap in the vodka bottle with water from the tap and made sure the refrigerator was closed. Trev thought he was pretty clever, covering his tracks like that. When he reached the end of the hallway to confirm that the front door was locked, he passed the darkened study located under the grand staircase and spun in shock when he heard a voice.
“You must be Trevor. Come on in.”
As he walked into the darkened room he could just make out the figure of a man sitting at the large desk, slim light through the darkened blinds behind him framing a powerful silhouette.
“I..I’m sorry Mr Rush. I didn’t realize you were here,” the young stud said, still reeling from the shock of discovery.
“Well, you should be sorry, my boy. I came back unexpectedly last night and have been surprised and pretty disappointed at the way you’ve treated our home. Come see for yourself.”
Trevor walked around the desk and watched the security footage of himself, displayed on the large computer monitor, jacking off in the bedroom, again in the pool earlier that day and finally an image of his broad, naked back as he bent over the liquor cabinet.
“Your mother said you were a reliable boy. I have to say, this isn’t what I expected. And as an alum of UCal and a board member, I would expect more of a fellow Oski.”
“I’m sorry sir,” Trev replied with real contrition at being caught, deepened by the realization that Rush had influence at his school. “I should have been more respectful. I promise, if you give me another chance, I’ll do better.”
“Well, I was young once myself and I know that young men have, well, urges. Why don’t we do this. You come by tomorrow and I will give you some extra chores to make up for what you’ve done. If you do them well, we can take it from there.”
“Thank you sir,” Trev said, suddenly aware of his exposed nakedness in front of his neighbor. “I’ll just grab my clothes and head out. I’ll be back bright and early tomorrow if that’s ok sir.”
“Perfect. See you around nine. Oh, and Trevor, bring me your clothes and leave them on my desk on the way out.
It was an odd request, but Trevor was in no position to protest. He gathered up the worn tee shirt, the rugby shorts and the jockstrap from the poolside pile he’d left earlier that day, and placed them in atonement on his neighbor’s desk.
“Good boy,” the shadowed man encouraged as Trevor laid them down and excusing himself, slipped naked back through the bushes and into the safety of his basement room.
* * *
“How are things over at the Rush’s,” his mother asked as she laid the plate of scrambled eggs in front of her son. Trevor ate voraciously and she struggled to keep up with his athlete’s appetite.
“Good,” he said curtly as he picked around at the eggs. She thought it unusual for him to not dive into them with gusto the way he usually did, but she was happy he seemed occupied with something. She loved her son, but he could often be maddeningly vacant when it came to self-introspection. “I gotta go back there today and do a few things so I’ll be most of the day.”
“Maybe I’ll pop by – get a peek at what they’ve done to the place.”
“No,” he replied aggressively before she’d even finished her sentence. “Rush is back from his trip and it would be weird for you to come snooping around. I’ll let you know next time he’s gone.”
“Ok, ok, you don’t have to bite my head off,” she said, studying the plate of untouched eggs as they cooled on the plate.
“Good morning Trevor,” Mr Rush greeted him from the patio the moment the muscled stud slid through the hedges. “Nice to see you here bright and early as promised.”
The man sat regally in a panama hat and sunglasses at the patio dining table that gave him the best view of his impressive property. While the hat and glasses concealed much of his face, Trev could see that he had the strong build of a former athlete who had kept himself in shape. A spread of fruit and coffee and eggs was laid elegantly before him on china, and the overall impression he gave was of a master of all that he surveyed. Trevor was impressed and intimidated by the figure all at once, particularly recognizing the power disparity that his unruly behavior had created between the two men.
“First thing’s first. Go ahead and take off those clothes. I know you prefer to work without them.” Trevor hesitated for just a moment, “Oh come on, you know you’re proud of the way you look and we’re both guys here. Go ahead. Strip them off. That’s a good boy.” Trevor complied and in a moment stood naked before his employer for the second time since they’d met. “You look great. All that time floating around in my pool has given you a deep all-over tan. Looks good on you. Now, let’s go upstairs and you can start by cleaning up the little mess you made in our bedroom.
Rush led him through the house and up the graceful stairway to the master bedroom.
“I think this big, broad smudge on my window belongs to you,” he asked with a smile.
“Yes sir.”
“OK then. The cleaning supplies are in the bathroom closet. Let’s start there.
The man stood observing the stud as he polished away the impression of his own indiscretion.
“What were you thinking of when you did that, Trevor. Something must have made you excited to be in our bedroom.”
“To be honest sir, I was thinking of the woman who used to live here. I had a crush on her.”
“Ah, I see. I understand that. I remember those days myself. Describe her to me.”
As Trevor cleaned he confessed how he used to covet Mrs Stanford, and the nights he’d lay in bed thinking about her. Rush had a way of coaxing information out of the simple-minded athlete, and he felt almost unable to refuse his low, steady commands.
“Now, let’s get this rug cleaned.”
In a moment, Trevor found himself down on his hands and knees with a rag and small tub of soapy water.
“Get right down in there. It’s a bit hard to see where you spilled,” the man said, and Trevor felt a slippered foot press on his broad shoulders until his nose practically touched the rug and his big, muscled haunches were raised high in the air. “That’s it,” the man encouraged.
When he was done Mr Rush sent him out into the garden to do some trimming and weeding. Trevor was surprised at his own eagerness to make his neighbor happy. The man had reached a level of success that the young athlete wanted to emulate and he found his employer confidently persuasive in every command he uttered to the boy. He was not cruel or aggressive, but spoke with a quiet intensity to which the young jock responded without question.
“I think I’m done sir, if you want to check my work,” the boy said after a sweaty day of trimming and weeding the garden.
“This looks fine Trevor. You’ve done a good job. You’ve earned a break. Take a dip in the pool to cool off, why don’t you?”
Trevor enthusiastically obeyed and was relieved when he emerged from the cool water and draped his big arms over the edge of the pool.
“Go ahead now and finish off. I know how much you like to jack off when you’re at my house,” the man commanded, pointing to the pool float at the edge of the water.
“But,” Trevor half-protested, for the first time that day.
“Be a good boy now and do as I say.”
In a hazy set of moments afterwards, the young athlete found himself on the float, working his hardened tool to full salute as his employer, sitting on the edge of the pool on a chair, one foot holding the float near him, watched the young man.
“Make some noise, that’s it. No need to hold it in. I know how good it must feel.”
Trevor performed as instructed, strangely aroused by the show he was performing for an intent party of one. He pulled away at the monster between his thick, beefy legs and created ripples of content across the mirrored pool surface as his body began to contract in spasms of ecstasy.
“Don’t cum yet. Not until I tell you. That’s a good boy. Looking good Trev.”
The instructions had the strangest influence on the rugby stud. He wanted to please, and he was aroused at the gentle but insistent guidance of the older man.
“Please. I have to cum,” he shuttered at last, no longer able to hold back and in wave after wave of relief he covered his abs in a thick creamy film.
“I didn’t say it was ok, but we can work on that. You’ve done good work today Trevor. I’ll see you tomorrow, same time.” The man handed Trevor a folded sheaf of five, hunred-dollar bills. “Now, get your clothes on and get out of here. I have things to do.”
