Welcome to the Neighborhood

This story is a series of vignettes split between two timelines: the first, a newlywed couple meeting their neighbors; the second, flashbacks of their relationship as it grew before marriage. Timeline switches are denoted by ///. I hope this format isn’t confusing to read and that you enjoy!

***

“Honey, I’m home!”

He’d been dying to say that ever since we’d gotten engaged, so it was cute to finally hear. Marco, my husband (I can’t believe I can say that now), came in grinning from his first day at work after our honeymoon in Hawaii. He smelled of manly musk and earth, as he always did after a laborious day on site. I was already clean, since I’d returned from the office in the afternoon. Marco wanted me back early to tidy and start dinner.

My husband was a very traditional man, as evidenced by his greeting and other chauvinistic behaviors. He wanted a big house, dutiful husband, and many children; 2/3 were already complete. Living together in the home he’d bought us was his dream come true, and mine as well. Before meeting Marco, I wasn’t sure I wanted to get married, but the stability and love we gave each other showed me he was all I needed.

He was giddy the night prior, looking forward to my kiss when he reentered his domain. Like a good husband, I put down the vacuum and gave him a big smooch upon arrival. His dirty, calloused hands went straight to my booty shorts.

“Hey! I just cleaned these!” I pouted.

“Just put ’em in the wash with the rest of my stuff, tonight, sweet cheeks. You’re gonna get a little dirty, since I can’t keep my hands off you.”

He groped my ass and tongued me deeply in the foyer of our new house. When we finally relaxed, Marco took a shower to wash off the day’s grime.

He came down looking fresh in a quotidian outfit: dark blue cotton polo, jeans, brown belt and boots. He had a thing about being well-dressed, and said that t-shirts were not presentable for most situations. This rule was passed along to me, as well, which I bemoaned at first. It all started with my uniform at our office, where we first met.

///

When I graduated college, the job economy was poor, and frankly, I wasn’t that qualified. My dad was a big league contractor, though, so he hooked me up with a position as an assistant for a friend of a friend, a fellow construction manager. My soon-to-be boss was apparently only 34, but already ran his own company and was doing quite well. On the first day, when I walked in, my heart ricocheted around my rib cage upon seeing my manager. He was so…. manly.

“Hey, I’m Marco! And, uhhh… wow, you must be Joey.”

He greeted me with a disarming chuckle, before crushing my hand with his powerful grip; I winced. He noticed and profusely apologized, then held my dainty hand with both his and stroked it. A few seconds later, he asked:

“Your hand feel okay now, Joey?”

“Yeah… it’s fine, I promise…” I blushed.

I couldn’t believe my new boss injured me like that! I’m such a weakling!

“Well, don’t worry about it. I’ll be sure to remember that you’re a delicate guy in the future. And if your hand starts hurting, just let me know and I’ll kiss it better.”

He said this last line in a joking manner, but it made my hole pucker, nonetheless.

“Uhh.. Marco? I’ve actually been trying to go by Joe after college, to sound more professional, ya know?”

“Aww, but Joey’s such a sweet name, isn’t it? It suits you.”

I blushed at the comment and wondered if it was actually a compliment. I wasn’t sure why my boss was being so flirtatious, but I definitely didn’t mind.

“Come, Joey, let me show you around.”

We walked and talked for a bit and I asked, “sir, are you from the Old Country?”

“Ah, I see you are quite perceptive. No, I’m not from Italy, but much of my family, whom I grew up with, is, so I take on some of their inflections. I try to hide my accent, but it slips out.”

“You shouldn’t hide it, sir, I think you sound nice!”

I quickly covered my mouth after the outburst. Why did I admit that out loud?! I was so embarrassed I looked to the floor.

“I think you sound nice, too, Joey. I look forward to getting to know you better. You’re going to be a great secretary,” he said, placing an arm around my shoulder.

I thought my dad said assistant!

“This will be your desk. My office is right behind it, so I can always keep my eyes on you. I don’t think that’ll be too hard, though….” he muttered inaudibly at the end.

“Sooo, will I be answering calls and stuff?”

“Yup. You’re going to be making sure I’m on top of everything. You’re my go-to guy, the one I can always count on. When I drive out to see the renovations, you’ll come with sometimes. And I may even let you out of the truck if you remember your hard hat! I know how easily you get hurt, and I want to make sure you’re safe. I promised your father I’d take care of you, Joey.”

He was looking into my soul with a wise countenance. All I could do was gaze back dumbly and nod, “yes, sir.” I seriously had a crush on this guy.

“Now, Joey, I know you were just in college, but this is a professional setting, and your current outfit isn’t appropriate. You’re the face of this company; the first person my clients see when they come in. So I want you dressed properly.”

“Sorry, Marco, I didn’t know…”

“That’s okay. Now, why don’t you strip down to your undies right here, I’ve got your uniform in the drawer.”

“R-right here?”

“Of course! We’re men, Joey, aren’t we?”

He said it with a gentle nudge, as if to tell me I wasn’t one, yet.

“You always that smooth?” Marco commented when he saw my semi-nude body.

“Yeah…. I’m just like this…”

“Well, it’s cute. Seems fitting, doesn’t it, Joey? Since you’re my secretary? I’m the boss and you’re the assistant. I’m the man and you’re the boy…”

He let his provocative comment trail off while handing over my new uniform. As he did, I couldn’t help but stare at his chest hair poking out. His loose-fitting athletic polo was chalk-full of fur at the collar, bursting out in every direction. It connected with his beard in a beautiful trail, one through which I yearned to amble my fingers. He chuckled and snapped twice:

“Uhh, Joey? Your uniform?”

“Oh yes, sorry, sir.”

“That’s okay, I know you’re curious. Since you don’t have any.”

I blushed again and donned the clothes he’d given me. Unlike his grey, breathable polo, mine was white cotton and tightly fitted. The armholes were small and cut off much higher than Marco’s, which billowed out by his elbows. My trim bicep bulged a vein when I flexed and it actually looked quite impressive. When I saw myself in the mirror, I spotted the company emblem on one pectoral. Underneath, read: Marco Romano – General Contracting. Below that, in cursive: Secretary…….

Next came navy blue khaki shorts, which rested one inch higher than I would have liked. They accentuated my sylphlike legs, that I’ve always had a love/hate relationship with. My thighs were thin, girly, and naturally smooth, which was sort of embarrassing. But I love being a bottom, and being smaller than my man, so they actually turn me on.

“Perfect! Now you look like a proper receptionist!” Marco beamed when I finished off with white socks and shoes.

He stood behind me in the mirror gripping my bony shoulders with his meaty paws. He massaged me gently as I looked myself up and down. I had to admit, I really did like the outfit, even though I looked like a fruit. My tight, lean body filled it perfectly, and I started to tent up when I noticed how well Marco fit his, too.

Even though I’m 6 foot, the beast behind me stood much taller. His sturdy quads were thick in his jeans, and felt a pang of shame at my scrawny body. The self-deprecation washed away, though, when Marco complimented my figure.

“I may have to get you shorter shorts, Joey, so you can show a little more. A receptionist ought to look good for their boss, don’t you think?”

I nearly died of humiliation and lust, but Marco brought me back to reality with a butt tap before leading me to the next room.

///

“Baby boy, I’d like to take an evening walk together. Go around and meet the neighbors. We’re probably the first gay couple that’s moved in, so we should try to make a good impression. I don’t want them thinking we’re those wild, circuit party homos.”

“Babe, you shouldn’t judge people just because they like parties. As for the neighbors, I don’t think we’re gonna be the only faggots they’ve ever seen kiss.”

Marco rolled his eyes when I called us that. He hated that word because of the connotation: that he took it up the ass, which he strictly didn’t. I thought it was entertaining how salty he got, and giggled.

“Well even if they have, these faggots are going to be presentable. So head upstairs and put on the clothes I’ve laid out, will you, love?”

“Yes, darling,” I said with a kiss.

Shortly after we met, Marco extended the uniform policy outside of work. At first, it was just “suggestions”, telling me I’d look more proper if I tucked in, ironed, and combed. Then he started buying me clothes, beautiful polos and smart shirts. The quality was high, and I couldn’t say no to my boss, so soon I was always wearing whatever he chose for me, even on weekends. I didn’t really mind and actually thought it was sweet of him; he just liked me neat and tidy.

The outfit he’d chosen for this stroll, though, was not everyday. For our neighborly welcome, where we would introduce ourselves as husband and husband, Marco had picked out a darling, but humiliating ensemble. A baby blue polo, and a pair of pastel pink khaki shorts that, when fitted, laid well above my fingertips. My smooth, thin legs were exposed, and my plump peach popped out in the posterior. I didn’t know what the neighbors were gonna think!

The worst part of all, though, was that I got hard as a rock once everything was in order. With my shirt tucked, hair combed, and androgynous perfume spritzed, I felt like a trophy husband. I blushed and slid my thighs together while my dick grew in its masculine thong (oxymoron?), one of the pairs Marco had purchased for me. He didn’t like lace or lingerie, but wanted me in a G-string because the small pouch was a perfect fit. He also liked the idea of fabric kissing my boyhole throughout the day, and watching me pick wedgies out of my cheeks.

I had to admit, the outfit was cute. The blue and pink contrast was a physical representation of my status as his “husband”, who was also clearly taking on the role of his “wife”, in some regards. He’d made it clear to me I was his male partner, but I think we both secretly loved the idea of me being his wife.

“Baby, you look perfect. Everyone’s gonna love you,” Marco said with a hug when I returned.

“Thanks, but don’t you think the shorts are a bit…. much?”

“Now, sweetie, you know I don’t like to bring this up too often, but…. Remind me, who’s the man in our marriage?”

He held both my hands and looked at me softly. I turned my eyes to the floor and whispered:

“You are, Daddy…”

Calling him Daddy was something we did sparingly, but both adored. I knew he was serious so I slipped it out to appease him. The mission was successful, because he groaned before asking:

“And who’s the boy?”

“I am……..”

“Yes you are, Joey, and I don’t want you to forget that. We’re equal partners in most things, but you know my word is final.”

“I know, Daddy…”

“I want you in this outfit because I wanna show my little boy off. I want everyone in town to be jealous—and I know they will be—since I have the most amazing, adorable husband around. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

“No…. cuz I do….” I whispered with a smile and kissed him.

“Alright now, one more thing before we head out. You know how we got a little kinky on the honeymoon… and I bought that… thing….”

Aside from the regular Dom/sub stuff (and his daddy kink…) Marco was pretty vanilla, so it was a surprise when he brought out a buttplug in Hawaii. We played with it for hours in our hotel, popping it in and out of my hole, watching me stretch. At dinner, that first night, he asked if I’d wear it. I shot to full mast at the thought, and the plug was snug in my bum before he could finish. It was incredibly seductive to be filled in public, with only my man knowing. When he turned on the hidden vibrator from an app on his phone, I nearly jizzed at the table.

“Of course, I remember, but I can’t wear that now! I’d probably make weird faces in front of the neighbors! And I’d be hard the whole time!!”

“That’s exactly the point, my dear. Don’t worry, they’ll all think your adorable moans are just satisfaction with how happy you are to be married! No one will know!”

“But-”

“Shhhh,” he came up and put a finger on my lips. “What did I say a moment ago, baby? Who listens to whom in this marriage?”

“I listen to you, Daddy… I’m sorry…”

I pulled my shorts down, bent over, and spread my cheeks for him in surrender, causing my painfully erect dick to smack into my belly button. I love when Daddy proves he owns me.

“Good boy, thank you for obeying Daddy. I’ll be sure to treat you later, sweetie, but I would guess you aren’t too upset about this….”

My leaking tip was evidence enough. He slipped in the oiled plug, and the second half slid on its own before nestling into my cheeks. He gave me a hug, tapped it so it was secure, slipped on my flip-flops, then walked us hand in hand out the door. The bulbous device massaged my walls with each small step.

///

I clearly love when my husband pushes me out of my comfort zones. He knows it turns me on more than anything when he shows the world I’m his boy, even though it can be painfully humiliating. Sometimes I push him out of his zone, too, though, and make him confront his own emotions. A perfect example is when we met each other’s families during our engagement.

We’re both 100% Italian, though my family’s 2nd and 3rd generation, and much more Americanized. We’re still pretty traditional, though, and my parents insisted on a formal dinner. Marco was nervous at first, since he’d never met a partner’s family, but I can be verrryyy convincing…. On the big day, he arrived at my parents’ house looking slick in his suit. I loved him in a tie.

When mom and dad noticed he was not only respectful to them, but also doted on me, pulled out my chair, held my hand, and was Italian, they instantly fell in love. Mom always sensed I was weak-willed and needed a strong man to guide me. She knew I was gay, probably before I did, and teased me about finding a husband who would take care of me.

Dad and my three older brothers got along swimmingly with Marco, as well. They all knew him vaguely through work, but had never formally met. That didn’t stop any of them from unbuttoning their collars, rolling up their sleeves, and heading to the garage to tinker with dad’s latest project. I begged Marco not to get oil stains on his new shirt while folding his discarded necktie.

“Already nagging,” my father joked.

“He’s just looking out for himself. Knows he’ll be the one scrubbing, later!” Marco replied jovially, confiding to my parents that I did our laundry.

He’s right, though, grease never comes out!

“Marco’s pretty cool, bro. Definitely seems like the kind of guy you’d be into, huh?” one of my brothers joked. Everyone in my family knew I liked big, strong men.

“Yeah, he’s pretty great. I’m glad to see you’re all getting along.”

“Me too. We’re happy to have him around, bro, and you know our wives all love you,” he teased. I knew he wasn’t kidding, though.

After dinner, my mom, my brother’s spouses and I cleaned up while the guys smoked cigars out back. Marco told me tobacco was a bad habit and forbade me from partaking. I didn’t mind because I thought smoke was gross, but it was emasculating to be the only guy in the kitchen.

“Sooo… is he, you know… hung?” one of my sisters-in-law asked cheekily.

“I’ll bet he’s big,” another replied. “He looks like an Italian Stallion.”

“Sshhhhhhh, not so loud! Mom doesn’t need to hear this stuff!” I hushed, trying to avoid the conversation entirely.

“Trust me, honey, I’m old enough to hear this,” my mother replied from the sink. “And if my son’s like everyone else in this room, then I’ll bet Marco has a salsiccia (sausage) and a half!”

The girls all burst out laughing while I died of embarrassment. My whole family knew I was taking fat Sicilian meat up my butt, every night. Also, why am I the only poorly-endowed Del Vecchio man…..

“You ladies having fun in here?” one of my brothers joked as the men entered. “Looks like Joey fits right in!”

My other brothers snickered and I pouted, but when I saw Marco take them aside and gently ask them to lay off his fiancé, my heart filled. He came over after and hugged me, then said he loved seeing me at the sink. He gave me a peck on the lips that would have made the Puritans proud, and everyone cheered.

Integrating with his family took longer because they were much more conservative. Many of them still held dated views about homosexuality, and did not believe in marriage outside of a man and woman. But after a few meetings, once they realized that we loved each other, and he wasn’t going to change, they accepted me as their own. Things were a bit different there, though…

While Marco remained buttoned-up with my clan, he freely showed affection, once comfortable in his household. Surprisingly, his family didn’t mind the PDA, I assume since they were such handsy folk. They expected a couple to touch constantly, and touch we did.

Marco would come up behind me at his parents’ house and drag his growing cock across my bum, through our sleek suit pants. We’d dress to the nines whenever visiting: coat, tie and all. He always had family in town, from the Old Country, so they were formal affairs.

When we arrived for our fourth visit, once they’d warmed up to us dating, a few odd things happened. For starters, Marco asked me to remove my shoes in the entryway. I slipped around hardwood all night in my thin dress socks, but he never took off his loafers. When his brothers and uncles welcomed us, I noticed they, too, were still in their black shoes. Rather than shake my hand, this time, they kissed it. I asked Marco why, but he just told me it was out of respect for him, and didn’t elaborate.

Another peculiar thing that occurred was something Marco’s father said. As we hung our jackets, he commented:

“Son, Joey should be doing that for you. It’s not right, a Romano Man hanging his own coat.”

“You’re right, Father. Joey, would you please?”

He handed me his coat, as if this was a normal request, and I blushed hotly. I didn’t want to make a scene, though, so I faked a smile and did my job. His father beamed with pride. When he left, I asked Marco:

“What was that about?”

“That? Oh, he’s just old-fashioned. You know, doesn’t think men should do certain things. Thinks they should be taken care of, in that regard.”

“Well, that’s archaic, isn’t it? I mean, I’m not your slave.”

“Aww, baby, I know that,” he consoled with a kiss. “He doesn’t think you’re my slave, he just thinks that a man should be shown…. proper respect, I guess you could say, by his partner.”

“But I’m a man, too!”

“And I respect you, don’t I?”

“Yes, bu-”

“You know the way we show our respect for each other is different, baby. Remind me, who cooks and cleans in our house?”

“I do….”

“Yes, you do. And in this house, you also hang my coat. You think you can do that for me, baby? He doesn’t mean any harm in it. Besides… I thought it was sort of cute watching you take care of my things…..”

“Daddy…..” I let out breathlessly before leaning up for a kiss.

“Hey! Enough of that, we need Joey in the kitchen!” his mother rushed in to inform.

“Babe, run along with Mother. The girls are going to teach you how to cook like they do back home!”

Before I could reply, I was whisked away to the room which Romano Men did not enter. His mother threw an apron over me, and soon I was in a pasta assembly line, kneading and cutting dough. I couldn’t hear much, with so many aunts, daughters, sisters, and grandmothers chatting, but there were no deep voices. When I looked to the floor, I saw only bare feet with painted toes, aside from my own sheer black socks, which resembled stockings. Oh no… I was the only man in the kitchen, again!

“Has Marc had you make him that spicy lasagna, yet, Joey?” an aunt asked while probing our relationship.

“Yes, I probably make it once a month!”

“That’s always been Marco’s favorite,” his mother swooped in. “You’ll be making thousands of those!”

The wives all shared a laugh about my future slaving away in the kitchen, just like they did.

“Make sure you freeze the leftovers, but don’t keep them longer than two weeks. My son deserves fresh meals, don’t you think?”

“Yes, ma’am…”

Sigh…. My first critique from my future mother-in-law.

“Honey, it’s dinner ti-” Marco sped in, but stopped short upon seeing me.

I was rinsing dishes at the sink, with my pale pink necktie (his was blue) thrown over my shoulder. I had on a pair of matching rubber gloves, at his mother’s insistence, and the gingham apron she’d loaned me. He came up behind and whispered:

“You look beautiful, baby boy. I love seeing you in my childhood kitchen. I’m gonna get you some of these gloves for our house when we move in, so we keep your hands soft.”

“I’d like that, Daddy,” I replied with a gentle kiss back.

“Marco, stop smooching your boy and get to the table! It’s dinner time!”

His mother, who was always in a hurry (though, I couldn’t blame her, feeding 30 was tough), ushered Marco out the door and into the dining room. There was one long table, at which about 15 men of various ages, from the oldest Romano patriarchs to the youngest cousins, sat. The guys joked and jeered as they awaited their homemade meal. I peaked out through a curtain in the kitchen, but on cue, Marco’s mother handed me a plate and put me in line.

“For Marco. You will place it in front of him.”

I was a bit confused, but as I followed the rest of the women and girls out into the dining room, I realized they, too, were assigned a male. Most served their husbands, but those girls who were too young or unwed served their brothers, uncles, and cousins.

I was so mortified to be the only guy standing; the only one barefoot. A few of the “real” men even snickered as I came up to Marco. It was clear that his family viewed me as his wife, and treated me accordingly. My cock tented to the twisted, erotic realization as I dined afterwards with the ladies, and all throughout dishes (which there’s a hell of a lot of for 30 people).

“You’ve found yourself a special one, my child,” Marco’s grandfather commented as I handed my fiancé his plate, with an accidental apron curtsy. “Don’t you let him go. I see the way he treats you. Such respect. Our wives could learn a thing or two from him.”

The guys all broke out laughing, but grandpa assured them he was serious. The wives mock-groaned and scoffed. Marco pulled me in by the hand and kissed me, announcing to the room:

“I’d never let my amore go. Till death do us part.”

///

We had to walk slowly down the block since the plug was large. Marco didn’t mind, though, and put his arm around my lower back, letting me lean into him for support. When we got up to the first doorstep, I anxiously looked down at my outfit. The shorts showed more skin than any straight man would dare, and I was afraid to look like such a faggot. I was also afraid of how turned on I was….

My cock had struggled to stay still during the short walk, as I thought about passing cars, and the comments they might’ve made about the curious sight. A sexy man and his young trophy husband taking an evening stroll, both dressed for their domestic role. Maybe it put them at ease to see us conforming to their norms. To be so easily able to place us in buckets of “pitcher” and “catcher”.

Marco didn’t seem to care, either way, and was just happy to show off his beau. During the two years we dated, I’d slowly gotten over the embarrassment of the public acknowledging I was his “boy”. That he shoved his dick in my throat and butt on the daily. They all knew, and once I got over it, it actually made me horny.

I flipped my boner into my waistband just before Marco reached for the doorbell.

“You must be the new neighbors!”

A pseudo-Dick and Jane duo opened the door and greeted us with a cheery smile.

“Hello! I’m Marco, and this is my husband, Joey. It’s so nice to meet you!”

“It’s great to meet you, too! I’m Clyde, and this is Debbie.”

Clyde reached in for a firm shake with Marco, but for me, he cupped my hand gently and kissed it. It seemed men instinctively knew to greet me this way, now that I was a kept boy.

“So lovely to meet you, Joey. I hope you’ve been able to enjoy the flowers, they’re beautiful this time of year.”

“He was just out yesterday, picking roses in the yard! Doing a little flower arrangement. It’s one of his favorite activities. He’s really getting quite good at it. Such a lovely way for him to spend his time.”

I blushed to the side as Marco announced my girly hobby to our audience.

“That’s wonderful! Debbie’s been doing the same. Maybe we could get them together some time, Marco, so they can share tips! Wouldn’t that be great?”

“Joey would love that, I’ll be sure to let you know when he’s free. And, please, do the same for Debbie, so we can set them up on a little friend date.”

It was so strange to stand silently while Marco and Clyde discussed mine and Debbie’s scheduling, but every time Marco spoke for me, I felt closer to him. I loved that he cared enough to invest this much effort into me, and secretly, I loved that he was a tad controlling. Debbie seemed accustomed to being spoken for, and gazed lovingly at her imposing husband like a Stepford wife.

“Well, if I knew you were a contractor, I would’ve had you over for dinner last week! Come on, Marc, let’s talk shop.”

“Babe, Clyde’s in construction, too, can you believe it!” Marco informed me excitedly. “We’re gonna head into his den for a bit to discuss my upcoming project. I’d love it if you went with Debbie and did whatever you do when you’re with your little girlfriends. That okay, baby?”

“Of course,” I replied sincerely with a smooch.

I could tell Marco was getting along with Clyde, and I liked seeing him make friends, so I followed Debbie into the kitchen.

“Oh, Joey, you two are just so CUTE!” she gushed when we got out of earshot.

“Stop it…” I blushed.

“I’m serious! I can see it in the way you look at each other, you’re deeply in love.”

“Well, he is my husband!”

We both laughed and continued chatting in the kitchen.

“Joey, would you be a dear and help me with something? I’m trying to braid the lattice on this blueberry pie, but I just can’t get the pattern right without another hand.”

“Of course, but, um….” I pointed down at my pristine shirt.

“Oh, your outfit! Wouldn’t want to ruin that. You know blueberries never come out! Here, borrow one of my aprons… Ugh, you look positively adorable!”

She gave me one that said “Kiss the Cook” and we went about folding the dough. Halfway through, though, the egg in my butt began to vibrate, and suddenly I lost balance. I gripped the counter to stay up on my shaky legs.

“Are you alright, Joey?”

“Yes, Debbie…” I breathed out heavily. “Juuuuh… just a head rush. Nothing to… ooooooh… worry about.”

The sensation didn’t cease, and even increased. I squeezed my legs together and closed my eyes, trying desperately to avoid looking like I was in ecstasy. The apron blocked my crotch, fortunately, so Debbie couldn’t see the wet patch oozing from my leaky tip. She just kept gabbing away. Finally, the raptures slowed then stopped, as Marco and Clyde entered the kitchen.

“Did we catch you ladies gossiping? Oh…. sorry,” Clyde apologized after accidentally referring to us both as female.

“That’s alright, Clyde, it was an honest mistake,” Marco assured him.

“No, we weren’t gossiping, Clyde. That’s not all we do! I was actually just telling Joey about the new dryer balls I got, and that they don’t leave any static!”

“Thanks for the info, Debbie, I’ll have to get some for Joey. He can’t seem to keep himself away from that laundry room! Sometimes, I think he wants to sleep in there!”

“Oh, you know how they are,” Clyde teased.

“I do,” Marco confirmed. “And Debbie, thank you for loaning Joey an apron, and such a cute one!” He kissed me. “I’m glad he could help out with the pie, but I would’ve been heartbroken if he’d soiled his outfit; it’s my favorite. I love when he wears it for me.”

“I love it, too! It’s just darling,” Debbie agreed.

“So do I,” Clyde added. “He looks dandy! Such appropriate clothes for a boy like you, don’t you think?” he asked me earnestly.

He didn’t mean any harm, and truly thought they were fitting since I was Marco’s “wife”, in his eyes.

I replied in the affirmative, with much humiliation, “yes, Clyde, I love them… Especially the shorts,” I added with a smirk.

His eyes widened and Marco commented, “they’re my favorite part, too!”

As we walked out the door, Marco told our hosts, “it was so nice to meet you two! We’ll have to get together for dinner soon, Joey makes a mean lasagna!”

“We’d love to,” Clyde replied for them. “Marco, I hope the new project goes well. I know it’s high stakes, and there’s gonna be a lot of stressful days, but the payoff will be worth it.”

“Thanks, Clyde. You really helped me out earlier with that manufacturing screw up. You’re great at logistics! Mind if I swing by, if anything else comes up?”

“Of course not, I’d be glad to help!”

Clyde then turned to me and crouched so we were eye-to-eye. His face was sympathetic, gazing the same way you would upon a helpless animal.

“And you, Joey, I hope your flower arranging goes well. I’m sure your husband would appreciate a little wreath or vase, or whatever silly thing you make, when he gets home from a hard day at work. I know I would,” he nudged Debbie in jest.

“Maybe I’ll have him make you one, too!” Marco suggested.

“We’d love that,” Clyde replied.

“It’s settled then, you send over one of Debbie’s famous pies, and I’ll have Joey drop off a seasonal wreath for your front door. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like a plan, Marco, I’ll get her right on that. Alright, you two get along well, now. We’ll see you later.” We waved goodbye and I heard Clyde comment to Debbie, “such a nice couple. And that boy is a doll.”

“I’m not quite sure how they… do it, dear, but I think we know who wears the pants,” Debbie giggled.

“Yup. The shorts were a nice touch, but a boy like him doesn’t even need those. We all know who’s biting the pillow!”

“Oh, Clyde, don’t be so crude.”

“I’ll be as crude as I want to be, woman. Now be a dear and get back to the kitchen. Let me know when dinner’s ready.”

“Yes, darling.”

Marco and I heard the end of their conversation as we walked away and I asked him what he thought.

“I think they’re a perfectly hospitable couple. Clyde seems a smart, respectable man who keeps his house in order. And Debbie, a dutiful, loving wife who obeys her husband. It’s a nice dynamic they have, isn’t it?”

“Yes, hubby, it is. Their house really was immaculate! I also appreciated Debbie’s hosting abilities.”

“Yes, she’s a wonderful woman; a great example for you to follow. I’ll be catching up with Clyde often, gathering some insight on running the business and household. It’d be nice if you spent some time with Debbie, too. I think she could show you some things that might come in handy during our marriage.”

“I’d like that, Marco. She already taught me some stuff about baking, which was fun,” I admitted truthfully; I actually did enjoy hanging out with her.

“Wonderful. Now let’s go to the next house.” As we walked, Marco continued, “by the way, did you like the little surprise I gave you, back there?”

“If by surprise you mean a vibrating explosion in my ass, then yes, I loved it!”

“I knew you would,” he cooed, swooping down for a kiss.

“But Debbie almost caught me moaning!”

“Oh, don’t worry about her. She and Clyde both know you’re the kind of boy whose bum is supposed to be filled. He even commented on it while we were in his office.”

“No…”

“Yup. Said, ‘I don’t mean to cross a line, but he…. you know…. is the one who….’ and I replied bluntly, ‘takes it up the butt? Yes, he is.'”

“So he knew??” I gasped.

“Of course he knew, and so does everyone else. But that’s okay, baby, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

He kissed me to calm my nerves, then rang the second doorbell.

///

Our chemistry was instant when I became his employee, and it only took three weeks to start dating. A few people who’d seen us working already assumed something was afoot, since Marco couldn’t keep his hands off me. We weren’t even hooking up, yet, but he rubbed my butt whenever he could get away with it. Once we became semi-public, most people didn’t care. Others thought it was scandalous, but they just wanted something to talk about.

Before officially dating, though, we had our first kiss. It happened in the car after we’d spent a long day at a job site, and he was driving me home. He started giving me lifts after the first week, when I told him I got groped on the bus.

“I’ll fuck him up!” he grunted angrily, accidentally letting slip a bit too much emotion.

The next morning he picked me up, and I haven’t taken the bus since.

Around the second week, Marco started bringing me to the houses he renovated. He told me liked me at my desk, where he was sure I was accounted for, but that it was important to get some hands-on experience. I’m not sure he had the correct definition of “hands-on”, though, at least not in this context.

“Joey, you put sunscreen on your face?” Marco asked while applying more to my neck and arms from behind.

“Yes, sir, I didn’t forget.”

“Good boy! You have very supple skin. We wouldn’t want you damaging it, now, would we?”

“No, sir…”

“Great! Then it’s settled. You’ll sit your precious bum on this bench in the shade, while I go run the show. I don’t want you getting your polo dirty, Joey, or you’ll be at the sink scrubbing for hours!”

I knew that was true; my things were to be kept immaculate.

I nodded, even though I kinda wished I could join him. He didn’t want me in a hard hat, though, cause he said it would ruin my gelled hair. So I had to stay by the side, protected, while my boss and his rowdy crew joked and roughhoused.

“Alrighty! Got your sunglasses? Water?”

“Yes, sir….”

“Hey, you know I’m just trying to keep you safe, Joey,” he said with a hand on my knee. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Thanks, Marco,” I blushed, right as a plank came down and almost smacked a guy.

“See! That’s not a place for a delicate guy like you,” he tickled.

“Maybe, you’re right…” I giggled back.

“I am! Okay, sit tight. And remember, stay in the shade!”

After about 30 minutes of scrolling on my phone, a blue-collar giant walked up.

“Sup, dude. So, you’re boss’s uhhh…” he read my shirt, “secretary? Isn’t that usually a chick?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, whatever. You wanna see the house? It’s fuckin’ huge.”

“Boss says I’m not allowed to. Doesn’t want me getting dirty.”

“Ha, that’s cute,” he commented, while rubbing some of his own grime onto his overalls. “I guess a secretary should stay out of the men’s work, huh?”

“I guess…” I whispered, my cock throbbing to this guy’s casual evisceration of my manhood.

“Alright then, whatever boss says.”

Before leaving, he smirked and gave me a handshake, something that I’d wished he hadn’t. My palm now slick with mud, and I accidentally wiped some on my shirt. I was frantically pouring water on it, rubbing with my fingers to remove the stains, but they only spread. I looked over to the house and heard the construction workers laugh at my apparent obsession with cleanliness, which was really at Marco’s request. It was embarrassing to be viewed as prissy, but Marco came over to make me feel better when he saw my hysterics.

“Awww, sweetie, what’d I say about keeping your shirt clean?”

“I’m sorry, sir….”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I’ll even let ya use my wash later, if you want, so you don’t have to go to the laundromat.”

“That’d be nice, sir!”

“Great, you’ll come home with me after this. But before that, let me show you the reno, since you’re already muddy!”

He gave me a hard hat and brought me to the house, which was really a mansion. Buff guys in wife beaters were all over the walls and rafters, hanging from cables. Marco held my hand tightly as we walked through the precarious environment. At one point, I slipped and skinned my kneecap. It didn’t really hurt, but Marco freaked out and started mending it.

“I’m gonna take him home now, boys. Joey’s better suited for an office, anyways. Gonna keep him inside on receptionist duty for a bit, while he heals up.”

“Haha, okay, boss. You two have fun,” one of the foremen replied, with mock kissing sounds.

They must have assumed Marco had a thing for me, especially after he carried me to his truck. They would have been right, as that night, we shared our first kiss. In the car, he placed his hand on my scraped knee. He left it there for most of the drive, and kept kissing his palm before placing it back.

“You feel okay, Joey?”

“Yeah, it doesn’t hurt too bad…”

“Good.” He moved his hand from my knee to my exposed thigh. “You have real nice legs, Joey, you know that? I couldn’t help but think it from the moment I saw you.”

“Marco… that’s sweet of you to say,” I whispered back with a lustful squirm.

“I’m serious, that’s why I got so upset when you got hurt,” he confided, while still stroking. “You know, Joey, I think your legs would look real pretty if you shaved ’em.”

“W-what, Marco?”

“Come on, you know they’d look good.”

“I guess….”

“So you’ll do it for me, Joey? I’d really like if you did.”

His other hand was holding mine, when I replied, “yes, Marco, I’ll shave my legs for you….”

“Thank you, sweetie, it’d mean the world to me.” He moved a hand to the back of my neck. “You like doing things for me, Joey? Being my secretary? You like pleasing me?”

“Ummm…..”

“It’s okay, Joey, there’s nothin’ wrong with it, if you do. You like pleasing me, and I like keeping you safe. That’s why I put you over to the side at the site today. So you wouldn’t get hurt.”

“Ummm… yea, that makes sense, I guess. To be honest, I was a little weary of hanging out with those guys, anyway. And, sir…”

“Yeah, Joey?”

“I do like pleasing you….” I finally got out, though it was barely audible.

“Does that mean you like me, Joey? Cause I think you know I like you. A lot.”

I could only do half a nod before Marco dove in for our first kiss.

“Well, that was nice,” he basked after.

“Yeah, it was,” I replied with a smile, and we held hands the whole way to dinner.

Marco treated me to a restaurant and movie, since I’d been a good assistant. Now, the outing doubled as a date.

After that, things moved quickly because we spent so much time together. Most mornings, I’d wake up fondling Marco’s naked bulge. I’d gotten into the habit of sleeping over at his apartment, and even moved some of my stuff in. Sometimes at breakfast, he’d let me pull his sausage out to suck up a creamy treat. Other times, he’d pound me over the table.

“Oooo, baby! Eat me deeper!” I begged one night in his bed.

“You like that beard on your boyhole, huh, baby?”

“Yes, yes!! I love it!!”

“Well then I’m sorry to tell you, but it’s going away tomorrow. I have a big meeting and need to look fresh.”

I pouted, since I loved no sensation more than his long whiskers poking around my taint. The next day, he looked adorable with his shaven mug. Throughout work, he came in and kissed me. At 9AM, his face was mostly smooth, but by noon it was already stubbled.

“Oooh, it tickles,” I giggled as he sucked on my neck during our afternoon romp.

“How about I tickle something else, hmm? Or do you want to wait till 5, so you can really feel me grow?”

When he did eat my ass that evening, I was shocked at how quickly his face had replaced its missing hair. I only shave once a week, so I never knew why they called it 5 o’clock shadow, until then. After we both orgasmed, while lying in bed, I asked:

“Soooo, are we like…. boyfriends?”

“I’ll be honest, baby, it never even crossed my mind that we weren’t.”

“So, that’s a yes?” I said excitedly.

“Yes, darling.”

///

DING DONG

“Hey! I’m Marco and this is my husband, Joey. We’re the new neighbors!”

“Sup, dudes, I’m Garrett.”

The man who’d just opened the door looked to be between me and Marco in age, and not nearly as coiffed as our previous hosts. He was enormous, blocking most of the hallway, and even standing over Marco, which was rare. His face was handsome but had unruly scruff that needed attention. The house was quiet, and he had no ring, so I inferred he was single. Marco confirmed his status with a question.

“So, Garrett, is it just you, here?”

“Yup, just little ol’ me,” he joked. “Livin’ the bachelor life, now, but gettin’ bored of it. You guys got any friends you can hook me up with?”

“I’ll be honest with you, Garrett, I don’t know many women,” Marco admitted.

“Ha, I was thinkin’ more along the lines of Joey’s friends.”

“Of course! Joey here’s got nothin’ but girlfriends, and I’m sure he could get you a date. He’s a good-looking guy, isn’t he, Joe?”

I hadn’t stopped gawking at Garrett since greeting him, so I think the answer was obvious. They both chuckled when Marco had to snap me out of my trance.

“Uhhh… yeah. He’s good-looking, I guess…”

“Awww, Joey here might have a crush,” Marco teased.

I appreciated that my husband wasn’t terrified of competition. He liked pointing out men he thought I’d find sexy, and enjoyed watching me flush in their masculine presences. He knew I was his, anyway, so he didn’t worry.

“Haha, well, he’s not quite my type, if you know what I’m sayin’,” Garrett winked. “But, man, those shorts…” he muttered at the end.

“Haha, they’re nice, aren’t they?” Marco chuckled, then pointed at our neighbor’s shirt. “I recognize your letters, there, Garrett. Were you in Greek life?”

“Hell yeah! Delta Sig, baby!”

“No way, me too! ’08 brother!”

They did a secret handshake and gave a bro hug.

“How bout you, Joey? Were you in a frat?” Garrett asked.

“No, Joey skipped out on fraternities,” my husband replied. “Didn’t really get along with those rough guys. He did do some theater, though, didn’t you, babe?”

“Yeah….” I admitted.

“He played Billy Elliot! Apparently

he was quite good!”

“I just want to dance in the ballet!” Garrett joked in a Scottish accent.

“Oh, you’re familiar?” my husband asked.

“Nah, just heard about it in Modern Family,” Garrett laughed. “But that’s cool, Joey, you should let me know if you ever wanna hang. Maybe I’ll teach you how to pound some beer.”

“Ha, you might be a little too wild for him. We’re a pretty tame couple. Early to bed, early to rise. He gets cranky if he’s up late. I may let him stop by and have a few beers, one night, but not too many! Joey’s a lightweight.”

“You don’t say,” Garrett smirked sarcastically.

“Yeah. Couple a drinks in him and he’s right back to bein’ Billy, flickin’ his wrists and twirlin’ on his toes!”

“Ha! I’d love to see that…” Garrett replied with a nervous yank to his collar, releasing the accumulated heat.

My face stained red while Marco followed up, “It’s okay, Garrett, you don’t have to be shy. You’d be surprised how many straight guys check him out. My little boy’s eye candy, ain’t you?”

He showered me in kisses and Garrett laughed warmly. In the chaos, Marco slapped my butt three times, right over the plug.

“Oooo…!” I moaned out.

“What’s up, Joey?” Garrett asked.

“Ah, it’s nothin’,” Marco ensured while gripping my throbbing bum, including the base of the toy. “He’s just a little sore… down there, ya know?”

“Ohhh. You mean his… bum?”

“That what I mean, Joey?”

“Mmhmm…” I nodded with shame.

“What’s that, Joe?” Marco urged on, knowing I loved the exquisite humiliation.

“Yes, Garrett, my bum is a little sore….”

“Ah, that’s alright,” Garret said, rubbing my head playfully. “Little guy like you probably has a sore bum often, huh?”

“Yes…..”

“Yeah, he’s tender down there, most mornings,” Marco continued while lewdly groping my butt, forcing the plug in deeper. “Gotten used to walking with a bit of a limp. He’s a natural!”

Garrett and Marco shared a hearty chuckle while I stood mortified, yet erect.

“Wouldn’t mind checkin’ out that little bum, if I’m bein’ honest…” Garrett let slip, covering his mouth slyly after, like he couldn’t help himself.

“That right? Joey, why don’t you give him a twirl. Show Garrett one of your classic Billy spins, and let him see your favorite shorts.”

Marco held my hand above my head as I pirouetted for our hunky neighbor. The humiliation was visceral, but Garrett’s grunt when my back fully turned made up for it. My hard dick lurched upwards, but it was so small it blended into the zipper fold. Garrett’s meat, on the other hand, seemed to be growing rapidly. It was huge, like him, and hung down his leg, visible through his basketball shorts.

“I’m not gonna lie to you two… I’ve never, uhhh… thought a guy was, you know… cute or anything… But, damn, Joey, you are one piece a tail. What a catch, Marco! You know… if you’re gay, or whatever….”

“Hehehe,” my husband giggled gleefully while Garrett changed the topic.

“So, you catch the Giants game last week?” he asked Marco, not even bothering to direct the question towards me. (In his defense, I don’t watch football)

“Don’t remind me…”

Marco and Garrett talked about sports for a few minutes while I stood twiddling my thumbs. My fidgeting turned into undulating, though, when a light buzz emanated within me. Marco must have turned on the vibrator to entertain me, since didn’t know shit about athletics, and didn’t care to learn. He didn’t mind, and said he kind of liked that I was so naive on the topic. That it was cute.

“You should come over Sunday for the game, Garrett. Joey’s making my favorite green chili, and you gotta try some. Swing by around 3 and I’ll make sure he has a bowl and beer ready for you. You can join me on the couch and we’ll shoot the shit while the Giants get fucked in the ass.” He emphasized that last bit with raised eyebrows.

“Sounds great, Marco! I love me some chili, especially if I know Joey’s the one makin’ it!”

“Maybe you’re the one with the crush, Garrett,” Marco laughed.

It was strange how much he was staring at me. Garrett hadn’t really talked to me, but his eyes would glance over, then stay glued. Especially to my long legs…

“We’ll see you, Sunday, Garrett! And I’ll have Joey come by with some of his homemade scones before then, since you said you love baked goods!”

I guess Marco had offered up my domestic services, again, while I was writhing.

“That’d be sick, man, I love scones! Cool, Sunday sounds good. Thanks for the invite.”

“No problem. You’ll wanna be there, Garrett, trust me. It’ll be worth your time,” Marco finished with a hint of mystery as we left the stoop.

I was still thinking about my husband telling everyone I’d do things without asking me first, so I brought it up with him while we walked to the next house.

“I’m sure gonna have a busy week with all these chores!” I joked good-naturedly.

“Right you are, babe. I figured since you’ll be leaving work early, you’ll have some extra time around the house. I hope you don’t think I’m using you, I just love the thought of my wi-,” he caught himself, “husband running around with the other wives, making goodies for the neighbors. I just want us to fit in, and make a good impression. Is that okay, sweetie?”

He looked so genuine. I didn’t think he was using me, and I didn’t actually mind doing these favors. The prospect of baking for my neighbors (especially Garrett….) was exciting, and it turned me on whenever Marco offered me up. I let him know my feelings, and we professed our love before moving to the next home.

///

“I see you’ve brought the missus!” Marco’s oldest friend joked when we arrived at the golf course.

“Mister, Tony, come on…. and hey! We’re not even married yet!” my fiancé replied, partially defending my honor.

“Can you blame me? I mean, look at his shirt! Knowing you, though, you probably made him wear it.”

It was painful to hear that Marco’s friends knew he picked my clothes. I guess I’d prefer that, though, otherwise they’d think it was me who chose the light pink polo and short white shorts he’d dressed me in.

“You guys like it, huh? I’ll have you know, Joey picked this one out himself. Pink’s his favorite. I can’t let him wear it at the office, you know, appearances and such. But on weekends, I let him choose what he wants. Go on, Joe, tell ’em.”

“Yeah, Tony, I wore this one cuz it’s my favorite…”

This was half true. Marco gave me a choice between three shirts, but they were all pink. That was my favorite color, though….

“Haha, alright, Joey. He really is cute, Marco.”

“Why do you think I’m marrying him!”

Marco and I always did activities together, but after we got engaged, we started including our friends. Mostly his, though. One of Marco’s favorite sports is golf, so he’d bring me along to shoot rounds with his boys. Well, they’d shoot rounds.

“You wanna swing, Joey?” a brawny, blue-collar bro asked.

“Nah, Vince, he’s not ready for that, yet,” my fiancé replied for me, something I was still getting used to.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, he’s gonna pass. Joey’s still working on his putter. Hasn’t learned how to handle an iron yet.”

“Really? I figured he was a pro, the way he limps!” a third friend, Giovanni, called out.

All the guys, including Marco, started laughing, though my man was subdued. To be honest, it was pretty funny….

“Sweetie, can you get my 5 iron?”

I fumbled around Marco’s bag, not sure which club to bring. He’d shown me before, but they all looked the same to me. I picked one that had a big, shiny head and handed it to him.

“No, not that one, silly,” Marco replied with a hug. “That’s my driver.”

“It’s not his fault, Marco, he just likes wood!” Gio popped back in.

“Big wood, at that!” Tony finished up.

Again, everyone was laughing, and this time I joined in, too.

While not fetching clubs, I’d usually wait in the cart under the shade. I wasn’t allowed to drive it, though, since I crashed once. My nose would be double-coated in sunscreen as I watched the deeply-tanned Sicilians golf. My genetics were already lighter, but Marco’s care kept my skin smooth, pale, and unblemished. Sometimes I got a little jealous as they swung, but I’d see their wrinkles and lines and get over it. My skin looked flawless, so I was grateful for Marco.

“You doin’ okay, babe? You look parched,” my fiancé asked when he came over to check on me.

“Yeah, just a little bored.”

“Well, I know what’ll cheer you up! Come on, let’s go over to the bushes.”

I thought we were going to sneak over to have some clandestine fun, but before leaving, Marco announced to his friends:

“Joey’s a little thirsty. I’m gonna go give him a drink out in the trees, we’ll be back in a minute.”

“But, Marc, his water’s right there,” Tony questioned.

“I don’t think little Joey’s gonna be drinkin’ water, dude,” Vince nudged with a suppressed chuckle.

“Ooooo,” Tony realized. “Damn, Marc, again? The way Joey’s been walkin’ today, I figured you already took him!”

The guys cracked up while Tony did a mock limp.

“You’re not wrong, Ton, I did take Joey, today. But you know we’re stallions. You really think one nut is enough?”

“Well, depends on when you filled him up!”

“Joey, why don’t you tell my boys when I last filled you up.”

Again I was squirming in my shoes, forced to admit my inferior male status.

“Marco filled me up right before this…” I replied with a blush.

“Damn, Marc! So he’s been leaking the whole time???” Gio asked loudly.

The guys roared at this comment, the thought of jizz dripping from their assholes so foreign, it could only be funny.

“He might be a little leaky, sure, but there’s nothin’ wrong with that. Tell ’em how we keep your shorts dry, Joe.”

I couldn’t believe he was making me admit this.

“Marco put a m-maxi pad in my thong this morning…. So I won’t get w-wet if his seed spills out….”

The guys stared blankly until Gio ended the silence with a blunt, “wow, dude.”

“Smart, huh?” Marco replied proudly. “Alright, we’ll be back in a few. Gonna go give Joey his afternoon treat. Come on, babe.”

My fiancé held my hand and whistled while we walked towards the bushes with erect cocks. When we returned, the guys, of course, had more comments.

“Might wanna give your knees a little brush there, Joey, got some dirt on ’em!” Tony advised.

“And there’s some leftover cream on your lips, Joe!” Vince chimed in.

“Oh, I’ll get that!”

Marco used his thumb to wipe up the glossy sperm residue that was still coating me. He stuck the finger in my mouth, after, and had me lick the remains.

“You like your warm milk, Joey?” Giovanni asked snidely.

“He loves Daddy’s cream! Won’t let me go to bed till he gets his helping. He doesn’t miss a night! Tell ’em, Joe!”

“Yeah… I love Daddy’s cream….”

///

“Woah, uhhh…. hey there, Joey,” Garrett greeted with raised eyebrows as I opened our front door.

It was Sunday, and he’d come over to watch the football game with my husband. For some reason Marco was all excited before, and even let me buy a new jersey. I chose pink.

“Hi, Garrett. Hope you liked the scones,” I replied as he walked in.

“Oh, yeah, thanks for those. They were delicious! And it’s nice to see you took my note about your legs.”

“Oh… yeah…”

A few days ago, Marco had me deliver fresh-baked scones to Garrett. He sent me in a lavender, silk button-down and white jeans that hugged my glutes. I was just going to drop them on the stoop, but I got curious and rang the doorbell.

“Oh, Joey, what’s up?”

“Hi, Garrett… Marco wanted me to give you these, and to remind you about Sunday.”

Garrett was scanning my fruity getup, inspecting my hairless chest through the undone buttons.

“Trust me, sweetie, I didn’t forget. You know… I’ve been thinkin’ bout that tight little booty, Joey, if I’m bein’ honest.”

“Oh, yeah…?” I trembled, my cock starting to tent.

“Yeah, I have been. Think you could do that thing for me, again, ‘Billy’. Your little twirl?”

I looked to the floor and nodded as I obeyed.

“Good boy, Joey. Very good boy. Wish you weren’t in those jeans, though. It’s a shame to have you hidin’ those legs. Have ’em out for me Sunday, will you?”

“Ummm… yes, sir,” I nodded, deferring back to my usual title for big men.

“Good boy. Skip back home to Marco now, and tell him thank you for the scones.”

“I will, sir…”

Back to Sunday, though, Garrett was clearly pleased Marco had told me to wear nothing but the jersey; not even my thong! When I originally relayed the delivery conversation to my husband, his eyes went wild and he made me suck him in the kitchen. I wasn’t sure why he was trying so hard to please our neighbor, but let it go.

“Hey, Garrett, how ya doin’? So happy you could make it,” Marco greeted.

“Of course, wouldn’t miss hanging out with my new neighbors! Sooo… got any of that chili?”

“Sure do! But first, take your shoes off, please. Wouldn’t want Joey to have to sweep again! Baby, why don’t you go get us all some bowls while Garrett and I sit down.”

Marco let me go first so they could watch my short jersey swing from the back. When I returned with food and beer, we ate together and watched the game.

“This is really good stuff,” Garrett said with his mouth full, already deep into his third helping, all of which I’d retrieved.

“Heh, yup, it’s Joey’s specialty. Won him the Home Making competition a few years back. Takes him two days to make, but we think it’s worth it.”

“Definitely! You should sell this, Joey!”

“Haha, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Garrett. Starting a business is a lot of work, and Joey’s got his hands full right now between his chores and time at the office. We’re weaning him off going in, though, aren’t we, babe? He’s really taken to being domestic.”

“Yeah, I can tell. Wish I had me a gu- girl…. like him. Would be nice.”

I blushed warmly at their conversation while I cuddled into Marco, loving every second of him describing my days being kept.

“Haha, Garrett, don’t be afraid of thinking he’s cute. You seem to be pretty curious about Joey.”

“Well… yeah… I kinda am…”

“No shame in that, Garrett, we don’t judge in this house. Joey, how bout you stand up and give our new friend a little tease. Show him what I keep hidden under that jersey.”

My ears and dick shot up. Did he really just say that? We’d talked a few times about experimenting with another man, but never done it. And if there was anyone I wanted to suck aside from my husband, it was Garrett. He was exactly my type.

“Uhhh… you don’t have to do that, Joey…” Garrett implored while wiping his brow.

“It’s okay, he doesn’t mind. Joey thinks you’re cute. Right, honey?”

I liked seeing my stud neighbor sweat, so I gave them a seductive nod and replied, “yes, Daddy, I like Garrett a lot.”

They both groaned and Daddy lifted me up off the couch. He ushered me forward and muted the game, then turned on a little sexy music.

“Come on, baby, let’s see it,” Marco smirked, leaning back into the couch.

Garrett was sitting forward with wide eyes, still unsure if this was actually happening. I started moving my body to the music, terribly embarrassed to strip, but loving the attention. I turned around and slowly lifted the bottom of the jersey, teasing the men with my peachy bum. After a minute, Garrett got comfortable and was leaning back, too.

“Let’s see the whole thing now, sweet cheeks,” he ordered.

Marco chuckled at Garrett calling the shots, but didn’t stop him. I followed and soon the whole shirt was off, my jiggly globes bouncing to the beat.

“Wow…..” Garrett awed with a dropped jaw.

“You like?” Marco asked.

“I do….” he whispered while rubbing his junk. “I gotta ask, how do you keep his legs so smooth? They’re incredible.”

“He’s naturally hairless so he only touches up every week or so. He’s asked about getting lasered, but he’s quite delicate so I’m not sure I’ll let him.”

“And his hole, too…?”

“Show him, Joe.”

I spread my cheeks and arched my back, allowing Garrett to see my pink button.

“Fuck…” is all I heard, until, “Lemme see the rest, though. Turn around.”

I spun to face them with my small, hard cock piercing the sky. Garrett’s eyes went straight to it and he grinned.

“Aww, you’re just a little guy, aren’t ya Joey?” he asked.

“Yeah, he’s not too big,” my husband replied. “Measured him up once. Came in just under 5 inches.”

“Damn, I didn’t even know they came that small! I thought 5 was the minimum!”

“Ha! Joey’ll tell ya, it’s definitely not! Now come on up here, baby, give Daddy a little dance.”