The Guy Next Door is Banging Your Husband: Part 3 (Patreon)

Hi guys, here's the next instalment of my short story about a couple and their neighbour. Let me know what you think! 

It was probably about three weeks later when they decided to start work on the fence. Conrad had spent the afternoon out in the back yard doing a bit of work on the garden, and over dinner told me about how he’d gotten talking to Freddie over the boundary about the state of the shared fence.

“Freddie offered to pay for all the materials himself if I help him put it up,” he told me.

“Wow, that’s good of him.”

“I guess it’s more of a priority for him; he has to keep Rocky from escaping all the time.”

“When would you do it?” I asked.

“We decided we’d get started next weekend,” he said. “I know it means it might take a bit longer to get the guest bedroom sorted out, but I figured it was too good an opportunity to pass up. I figured you’d probably be able to take care of the painting and stuff in the bedroom on your own anyway.”

“Yeah, of course. You should totally do it.” I paused. “Even if it means I get the short straw.”

Conrad looked at me inquisitively. “How?”

I grinned at him. “Shut away in the bedroom painting and plastering on my own, while you get to spend all day watching the shirtless muscle stud at work.”

“You can help too if you feel like you’re missing out.”

I shook my head. “Nah, I’m kidding.” Mostly. “Besides, we gotta get that room finished. And I’m no good at all that building stuff. This limp wrist of mine is made for painting, not hammering.”

He shrugged. “Up to you.”

So it was settled, and the two of them made a start about mid-morning the following Saturday. They spent the first hour or so dismantling the old fence: pulling fence palings off the frame with a crowbar and the back end of a hammer, then dismantling the frame and digging the existing fence posts out of the ground. It was hard work, and turning into a hot day, so it was no surprise that by the time I came out into the yard about midday to bring them something to drink they’d both stripped shirtless.

They both looked so fucking good. I mean, I’ve already told you what Freddie’s body was like. Seeing those muscles ripple across his back as he wrestled a fencepost out of the ground was an instant turn-on; it made me almost wish that he’d grab me and manhandle me with that same kind of roughness.

Conrad was like a beanstalk in comparison, although he was well-built compared to the average guy: thick torso, toned shoulders and arms, and a chest covered in thick hair. While I’d let myself go a bit over the years of being married, Conrad still looked as good as he ever did. As he approached forty he was on his way towards turning into a bit of a muscle daddy.

I handed them each a glass of sparkling water. “How’s it all going?”

“I think we’re making good progress,” Conrad replied. “Lucky Freddie knows what he’s doing, because I’d be screwing it up otherwise.”

“I brought you guys out some sunscreen,” I said, holding out the tube towards Conrad. I knew he would have forgotten; usually that wasn’t a big deal because while I tended to get burnt tomato-red, he tended to tan which just added to his general good looks. But it looked like it was going to be a real scorcher, and if he was going to hang out with his shirt off all afternoon in this sun he’d be regretting it later.

“Thanks,” he said, grabbing the sunscreen tube from me. He squeezed out a generous quantity and started rubbing it all over his arms and his chest. “You want some too?” he asked Freddie.

“Sure, hit me,” Freddie replied. Conrad threw him the tube and he started putting it on.

“Freddie’s going to use the old fence palings to make a veggie garden,” Conrad told me as he covered himself.

“You garden too?” I asked Freddie.

“Yeah. I lived in an apartment before this,” he told me. “So I can’t wait to start growing my own stuff. And besides, who needs all this lawn? Most pointless crop in the world. I’ll do a bit of landscaping first though.”

“How’s the plastering going?” Conrad asked me.

I shrugged. “Slowly. It seems I’m not as good at it as I thought.”

“Hey Conrad,” Freddie said, “Can you get my back?” He handed Conrad the sunscreen and turned to face away from him.

“Sure.” Conrad squeezed out some sunscreen and started to rub it all over Freddie’s back. Carefully he covered every bit of skin, and I watched far-to-attentively as his hand passed over each of Freddie’s muscles from his thick neck down to where the valley of his spine met the waist of his shorts.

“Thanks, mate. Now let me do you.”

The two of them turned one-eighty, Conrad handing over the tube. Freddie slapped a wad of sunscreen onto Conrad’s back and started rubbing it in. It was like a massage — long, firm strokes across his back — he let out a long, slow breath and I could see him visibly start to relax into it. I wasn’t totally sure, but I thought I also saw the bulge in his shorts grow just a bit. As Freddie’s hands got lower and lower towards the base of Conrad’s spine I found myself willing him to go a bit lower, beneath the waistband.

Freddie finished and with a, “Heads up,” threw the sunscreen back to me. I realised that I’d been holding my own breath in some kind of weird suspense the entire time. I let the breath out and grabbed for the tube, but fumbled it and let it drop onto the grass. I bent, picked it up, and with a flustered, “Okay, see you in a bit, have fun,” I hurried back into the house, feeling a little embarrassed about just how horny that exchange had gotten me.

I figured I should get back to my own jobs, but I had a sudden urge to knock one out. So I figured maybe I’d just spend a few quiet minutes alone in my room with my laptop before I got back into my plastering.