A gay sex stories: Stripped of His Defenses
It seemed especially cruel to receive a call at 4:53 PM on a Friday letting me know I’d been turned down for yet another job I’d applied for. I managed to keep my voice pleasant as I listened to the bad news, but as soon as I ended the call, I stormed out into the yard, threw my head back, and shouted at the top of my lungs.
A stream of curses fell from my lips, and I fought the urge to kick the shit out of something. I was pacing over the gravel driveway, trying to get my blood pressure down from what was probably a hypertensive level, when I heard a deep voice call to me, “Everything okay, Caleb?”
I looked up to see my neighbor Oliver standing at the edge of my yard, hands in his pants pockets as he regarded me with a neutral expression. “Shit, I’m sorry,” I called back to him. “I didn’t mean to get so loud. It’s just been a rough day.” Oliver’s house was a decent distance away from mine, so I must have been even louder than I realized.
He was quiet a moment, tilting his head slightly. Then he said, “Want to come over for a beer?”
I released a heavy sigh, running my hands through my light brown hair. “You know what? A beer sounds great.”
Oliver waited for me to catch up to him before we started walking down the driveway to his house. The summer day had been hot, and now that evening was approaching, the air carried just a hint of a breeze.
I still sometimes found it strange that he and I were neighbors. We lived at the end of a quiet privately maintained road, with the nearest houses to ours almost a mile away. My property consisted of a modest lot and a small dwelling with just two bedrooms and one bath. The house was old and had needed plenty of work when I bought it several years ago. It had become my pet project, and I spent many weekends making improvements to it.
Oliver’s house, on the other hand, was much more impressive. While he worked in the city and stayed in an apartment there during the week, on weekends he made the hour-long commute out here. When I’d first seen construction taking place on the land next to mine, I felt a little resentful, though I knew I had no right to. But I liked the peace and quiet that came with having no close neighbors. For many years, this had been a rural area, drawing little interest from outsiders, but the views were spectacular, and I understood why Oliver had purchased two hundred acres, leaving the property almost untouched except for a dwelling site. Both our houses looked out on the nearby mountains, and it was a sight I enjoyed every single day.
And now I was in danger of losing it all.
As I walked beside Oliver, I gave him a sidelong glance. He certainly didn’t have to worry about money, I knew. No, he was some kind of executive for a successful company, and right now he wore dress pants and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms. I figured he’d just arrived at his house for the weekend when he heard me hollering like a lunatic.
While he and I were amiable neighbors, we weren’t friends. We’d briefly chatted a few times when our paths crossed outside, long enough for us to learn a little about each other. I’d just turned thirty, and I guessed that Oliver was in his mid-forties. His dark hair didn’t yet have much gray, and I could tell he kept himself in great shape. He was a few inches taller than me, and broader in the shoulders.
I also knew that he played as hard as he worked, at least when he was out here. Though he was discreet, I couldn’t help but notice the various men who visited his house. They arrived one at a time and normally stayed for just a night. From my kitchen window, I had a distant view of Oliver’s driveway, so I could see their comings and goings. There seemed to be a different car parked in front of his house every weekend.
I understood Oliver’s desire for privacy. Our houses were located on the outskirts of a small town. For the past decade, I’d worked a blue-collar job in that town, making decent money before I was laid off months ago. Having grown up not far from this area, I knew how narrowminded the locals could be. If they were to discover how Oliver spent his weekends out here, they would have plenty of nasty things to say about him.
That was one of the reasons I’d never admitted to another soul that I wasn’t one hundred percent straight. I’d always dated women, never daring to acknowledge my attraction to men as well. It would have made it hell for me at my job, where I worked almost exclusively with other guys who were full of tough talk and swagger.
I could have tried to meet up with someone in the city, but it still seemed too risky. And I was satisfied with dating women throughout my twenties. Right now, however, I was single and also unemployed, so I had plenty of time to think about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. Oliver certainly had me wondering just what I’d been missing out on all these years.
“Want to talk about it?” he asked as we approached his house. When my stare met his, I saw that his blue eyes were kind. Standing next to him and seeing all he’d achieved, I couldn’t help but feel dejected about my own circumstances.
“I got laid off late last year, and I still haven’t found another job,” I explained. “After I got turned down today for a position I really wanted, I guess I just lost it, and I needed to let off some steam. I’m sorry about that, though.”
“No need to apologize,” Oliver said. “I’m sorry about your job.” I followed him up the steps to his porch, and he held his front door open for me.
I stood in the foyer of his house, looking around. “This is a really nice place,” I said.
“Thanks. Come on into the living room and make yourself comfortable, and I’ll get you that beer,” Oliver told me with a smile. I smiled in return, and when I stepped into his living room, I found it looked like something out of one of those fancy interior decorating magazines. Knowing how expensive the couch was made me a little hesitant to sit down on it, but I ended up taking a seat, keeping my back straight.
Oliver soon returned carrying two beer bottles, and when he offered one to me, I gratefully accepted it. All the while, I felt out of place in my jeans and t-shirt. Then I remembered that some of the men he invited out here dressed just as casually, and I relaxed a little.
Oliver sat down in a nearby chair, and as we drank our beers, my gaze drifted to the large picture window. “What an incredible view,” I said to fill the silence. “I never get tired of it.”
“Neither do I,” Oliver said. “I’d live out here if I could.”
I stared down at the bottle in my hand. “I might not be living here for much longer.” My voice was strained, full of tension. “I thought I was in decent financial shape when I bought my house a few years ago, but being out of work this long has drained all my savings. I’m worried I won’t be able to make the mortgage payments…” I lifted my head to look at Oliver, and I found he was leaning forward in his chair, listening closely.