feeling this unusual sense of empowerment he’d never experienced before. He also knew no one
else could see what he was doing. The back of the house was totally private except for this one
neighbor’s bedroom window.
It could have been the vodka giving him courage, or it could have been the fact that he
was home alone. But Ricky continued to dance, spreading his legs and grinding his hips. He had
seen this neighbor checking him out before, though nothing too obvious. When Ricky cut the
grass in the summer with his shirt off, this neighbor looked him up and down and smiled. This
guy would stop in his driveway, hesitate a moment too long, and wave. Instinctively, Ricky
knew the guy was watching him and he quietly enjoyed the attention.
Ricky knew the guy had just divorced his wife, just sold his house, and he was moving
out of the neighborhood in a week. They’d only been married a year, and the guy hadn’t even
lived in that house for a full year. (Ricky’s mother was dying to know what had happened and
why they’d divorced so soon.) He was in his mid-thirties, had a receding hairline, and was into
cycling. On weekends, he was always outside in his driveway fooling with his expensive bicycle, wearing his tight black cycling gear and a tiny little hat. Though Ricky had never been interested
in this guy sexually, he did find it both flattering and exciting this guy was interested in him. And
though he wasn’t as sexy as the taxi driver at the airport, he did have a nice body and a thick
round bulge between his legs when he wore cycling shorts. Oh, Ricky had checked him out, too,
when he wasn’t looking.
So Ricky figured he give his neighbor a real good show that night, sort of a moving-away
present. Without being obvious, Ricky glanced up at the window again, out of the corner of his
eye. Ricky saw his outline, not his actual image. Now the guy was standing to the side of the
window, holding the curtain open with one hand and tugging his penis with the other. Evidently,
he wanted to see more of Ricky, and Ricky couldn’t wait to show him.
Ricky took a gulp of vodka and removed his shirt slowly. He threw the shirt on the back
on the lounge chair and jacked his erection a few times. When he was completely naked, he
lifted his arms and stretched them all the way up. Then he turned to the side so his neighbor
could see he was fully erect. He stood there for a moment, just stretching and posing, bending
and arching. A minute after that, he braced his legs and dove into the swimming pool with a
splash.
Even though the water was cold, Ricky’s dick remained solid. He swam back and forth so
his neighbor could see his ass bounce in the water. He even did a handstand in the shallow
section. After that, he did a few tumbles and looked up at the window again. The guy was still
watching and he was still jacking.
When the cold water started to bother him, Ricky decided to speed things up so his
neighbor could get off and he could go back into the house. So he pulled a blow-up raft to the
center of the swimming pool, climbed on top of it, and flattened his body out face up. He spread his legs, reached down, and grabbed his erection. When he started tugging himself, he squinted
and looked up at his neighbor’s window. The guy had opened the window and spread the
curtains all the way apart. He was now standing in the window, looking down at Ricky, with his
shirt open, his pants down around his knees, and his hand on his cock. He had a nice body. Not
muscular and ripped, but toned and solid all over. And from what Ricky could see, his dick
wasn’t bad either. Ricky thought about inviting him down for a swim, but he didn’t want to ruin
the moment. If he did and the neighbor freaked out, it could have been extremely awkward.
Ricky kept his head back and his eyes shut. A sensation of absolute pleasure passed
through his entire body. His heart began to race and his penis started to pulse. He arched his back,
threw his left arm back over his head, and started jacking faster. For a minute or two, he even
lifted his legs, spread them, and fingered himself. Being naked outside, knowing another man
was watching him and enjoying his body so much caused his balls to jump up in his scrotum. For
once, his mother walking in on him didn’t even cross his mind and he felt totally guilt free. He
was an eighteen-year-old adult. Old enough to vote and drive.
It only took a few seconds and a few more pulls. Before Ricky knew it there was a stream
of come all over his stomach and a few drops on his chin.
When he squinted again and looked up at his neighbor’s window, he saw the guy was still
jacking. But he knew the guy was close. He was jacking so fast Ricky could see his balls
swinging back and forth. There was something both sexy and sleazy about this, and though
Ricky knew he should just clean up and go inside, he didn’t.
He milked a few more drops with his right hand and reached down to his stomach with
his left. With his left index finger, he scooped up a swirl of his own come, lifted his finger to his
lips, and stuck out his tongue with an exaggerated move. When he licked his finger, he heard his neighbor moan a few times; a second after that, the entire subdivision seemed to go dead silent
and he heard his neighbor’s window slam shut.
By the time Ricky squinted and looked up again, the curtain was drawn, the room was
dark, and there was no sign his neighbor had ever been watching him.
Chapter Three
On Sunday morning, Ricky met a few people he knew from school at a diner on Route 46
in Dover, New Jersey. Leyland was there; a tall, thin guy named JC was there; and a couple
named Tiffany and Glen were huddled together at the back of the table. JC had a long Roman
nose and his forehead was stippled with acne. He always had this frustrated pinched expression,
as if someone were snapping rubber bands against his ass. He wore his hair too short for
someone with a weak chin and a large nose. Tiffany had just had her hair streaked with chunks
of blond and she was wearing jeans so tight and low-waisted the zipper couldn’t have been
longer than two and a half inches. She wore a short sweater, exposing her ample white midriff
and gave the impression of a muffin top. Glen, a beefy football player with short sandy hair and a
thick neck, ate with his right hand and kept his left hand under the table so he could play with
Tiffany’s legs.
Tiffany remained casual and pretended nothing was happening. She picked at a small
green salad and talked about a friend of hers who had just been accepted into the college of her
choice while Glen’s hand went up her crotch. Leyland, never one to miss anything when it came
to sex, kept poking Ricky in the ribs and tipping his head toward Tiffany and Glen to let Ricky
know Glen was feeling her up under that table. At one point, Leyland actually dropped his
napkin so he could look under the table to see what they were doing. When he came back up, he
rolled his eyes and whispered into Ricky’s ear. “He’s got his hand between her legs and he’s
actually playing with her pussy.” No one else heard this. Tiffany was talking to JC and Glen was too busy eating his tuna
fish sandwich with one hand and fondling Tiffany’s pussy with the other. But when Ricky heard
what Glen was doing, he laughed so hard he almost choked on his omelet. Leyland had to pat
him on the back and JC offered him a glass of water. By the time he finally calmed down and
caught his breath, both of Glen’s hands were on the table and he was listening to JC talk about
his plans for the future. Though JC wasn’t specific, he told them the only thing he cared about
was getting into a good college and making tons of money when he graduated. He wanted a big
house, an expensive car, and he wanted to take three vacations a year. When Ricky questioned
JC’s integrity and asked him if he cared about doing something that would help society and
contribute to the world, they all just gawked at Ricky and laughed.
After the diner, Ricky and Leyland had to go back to school for a meeting regarding an
extracurricular activity. The entrepreneurial group they’d signed up for was meeting Sunday
because no one had time to meet during the week. Even the teacher, an older guy with pure white
hair and a sullen expression, was too busy to meet on a weekday.
The thirty students involved, all seniors and all trying hard to get accepted into the right
colleges, had already formed fifteen groups of two and now they were going to discuss their
projects. The groups were referred to as companies, and each company had to come up with a
new product or concept that would make money. Leyland and Ricky were paired off and their
fictional company had been named
The Risers.
They pretended they were looking forward to
working together and creating the most unique entrepreneurial product concept that had even
been created. Only they still hadn’t come up with an idea yet. When the teacher asked if any of
the fictional companies didn’t have a product idea, Ricky and Leyland slumped down in their seats and remained silent. Neither of them was willing to admit they didn’t have a clue what they
were going to do.
Ricky glanced around at the class and frowned. The other students, mostly girls, all
seemed so alert and eager. His mother would have called them
peppy
. They laughed and giggled
about their projects; they scheduled dates and times when they could meet together. Ricky sighed
and poked Leyland in the ribs. He smiled at the teacher and leaned to his right. “Do we have any
idea what we’re doing, asshole breath?”
Leyland shrugged. He tilted his head and whispered, “Not a fucking clue, dick face. I
only signed up for this lame fucking thing because I thought it would look good on my record.
Now I’m sorry I did.”
Ricky rubbed his chin and closed his eyes. He’d signed up for the same exact reason.
Now he was having serious regrets. If they didn’t come up with a good idea, they could come off
looking worse than if they hadn’t signed up at all, which wouldn’t be good for their records.
Ricky could only imagine how his mother and father would react. To hear them speak, they
thought Ricky was ready to move into Donald Trump’s office and take over the casinos.
Later that afternoon, while Ricky was outside doing yard work, Leyland walked up the
driveway and gave him a playful kick in the ass. Then he punched him in the arm and said, “I see
you’re wearing your ripped jeans. I’ll bet you’re hoping the guy next door is inside watching you
bend over. I saw you shaking your ass for him.”
Ricky rolled his eyes. His jeans were slightly ripped in the knees and he was only
wearing them because he was working outside. And the last thing he cared about was his
divorced neighbor. He’d told Leyland about what had happened with his neighbor and the
swimming pool, but now he was sorry he did. Leyland seemed obsessed with the story. He’d been talking about it and asking questions about it ever since Ricky had mentioned it after their
class. So Ricky turned and continued walking toward the garage. “The guy’s not even home right
now. He went out on his bike early this morning and he probably won’t be back until late this
afternoon. Trust me, nothing’s going to happen. He won’t even look at me.” Ricky had seen his
neighbor when he left for the diner earlier that day. The neighbor had been outside getting his
bike ready. When the neighbor saw Ricky, he nodded fast, waved, and looked down at the bike
pedals. Ricky turned even faster and got into the minivan. Neither one of them wanted to
acknowledge what had happened the night before, which was fine with Ricky. Although it had
been exciting at the time, he was feeling guilty about it and trying to remove it from his brain.
“You never know,” Leyland said, holding the trash bin lid up so Ricky could toss a large
plastic bag of yard waste inside. “Sounds like this guy is hot for you, and it also sounds like
you’re hot for him. He’d probably let you suck him off in the bushes.”
Ricky smiled and flipped the lid shut. “He’s too old. I have no interest in hooking up with
a divorced guy in his thirties. Now let’s go inside and try to figure out what we’re going to do for
this half-assed entrepreneurial project. We’d better come up with something soon or we’re
screwed, buddy.”
For the rest of the afternoon, they brainstormed about the project. It had to be cool and it
had to make money. They passed ideas back and forth across the kitchen table as if they were
passing a joint. When Leyland suggested they create a new social networking website for horny
