Backyard Glory

It was Saturday morning, and my suburban neighborhood was alive with the sounds of lawnmowers, weed whackers and leaf blowers. I was on my knees in the furthest corner of the yard, deadheading my wife’s flowerbeds. Gardening is not one of my usual chores, but Lois promised sex or at least a blowjob if I did this “one thing for her”.

The air was sticky, and gnats buzzed around my face, adding to my irritation. I sat back on my heels and wiped my brow with the bottom of my t-shirt. Just as I was about to sneak inside the house for a beer, I heard a loud grunt from the other side of the fence, followed by the sound of skin slapping against skin. Still on my knees, I crept over to a fist-sized hole in the fence and peered through.

I honestly thought I was going to find my neighbor Jim fucking his wife Renee. At least that’s what I hoped I would see. Instead, Jim was sitting in a plastic lawn chair with his shorts around his ankles, furiously pounding his meat. He paused and proceeded to roll up his tank top, exposing his furry chest. At forty, Jim’s body still carried the evidence of his football days, and I was envious of his bulk.

He grunted and wriggled in his chair while he pinched his nipples – fat cock bobbing between his open thighs like some wild creature. I felt a little ashamed, I mean, Jim...