Footlong Johnson

DESCRIPTION:

Devlin has some very loud neighbors. Whether the couple next door is making love or fighting like cats and dogs, he can hear every moan through the thin walls of his cozy apartment. One night, his sexy neighbor shows up on his doorstep locked out of his apartment in nothing but his underwear looking for a place to crash waiting for things with his girlfriend to cool off. Inside Devlin’s apartment however things are just starting to heat up.



EXCERPT:

I nearly creamed in my boxers the first time I laid eyes on him. He was not only a delectable hunk of man meat but he also smelled really good too, leaving me a whiff of his expensive cologne as he passed me by in the hallway.



Although this stranger had been living right next door to me for at least a good six months, I never saw him before that day. All I knew of the man was that he lived with his girlfriend who had a tendency to let everyone on our floor know when he was a complete and utter asshole. The woman did this by spouting off her latest suspicions of his alleged infidelity. She was armed with so much proof she had me rooting for her to throw his sorry ass out on the street. Some days she had the unknown jury convinced she would, letting everybody know she wasn’t one of those women that would put up with just anything to keep a man. The way she said it—so sultry in her raw native Caribbean tongue—she sometimes had me on edge think she was a voodoo spell away from turning him into a chicken or something weird like that. She came close a few times, really close, saying stuff I couldn’t really make any sense out of. But then he always managed to say something sweet and sexy and often left her cursing him in pleasure for about an hour or so against the back drop of a very squeak bed for the same amount of time. Sometimes it felt like the best fuck of our lives, as I sometimes found myself propped up against my pillow playing with my wet hole and proud dripping dick to their vigorous lovemaking through the thin walls of the apartments.



As I finally put a face to the man who forever forced my hand into buying a dildo, I prayed I wasn’t too obvious in my staring as I was unhurried to unlock the door to my apartment. He was such a handsome soul. Just to say he was good-looking was merely an understatement. He was far beyond that. And to call him gorgeous wasn’t going to suffice either. With his smooth clean-shaven face, the ultimate tragedy was he was fully aware of his good-looks, fully aware his alluring smugness to the rest of the world could make knees buckle at his feet. His looks were not only striking, but he also carried a noticeable height and muscles that hugged his clothes. Leaving it at that also was an understatement. The man was a tower of diesel cuts that the gods chose to dust in a permanent coat of fine cocoa powder, standing six-foot-five and two hundred and something or other pounds.



I lingered around out in the hallway a few minutes more before going inside. I wanted to hold on the exact place I was standing when I witness perfection for the very time, but not before I saw the Caribbean trick stroll out of her apartment with a favorable smile splashed across her face.



It was apparently one of those good days.