My Neighbor is Home For Xmas 03

Everyone is 18+ and fully consenting.

Chapter 3: Snow Day

The snowstorm hit on the way home from Costco, just as we were getting back on the road. The sky went from dull gray to white noise in minutes. The windshield blurred. It looked like we were being bombarded with white lasers, wipers slapping hard and not accomplishing much, the truck fishtailing on every corner which made my stomach drop. Every time the back end slid, my heart raced and skipped a beat, but Jason stayed loose at the wheel, one hand steady, the other tapping the dash like it was nothing. I kept glancing at his forearms as he corrected the spin, veins up, jaw set, totally calm. It felt dumb to pay attention to that in the moment, but it was a light comfort in the storm. He laughed once at my tense reaction.

“Dont worry,” he said. “We’re good.”

When we finally pulled into his driveway, snow coming down even harder, it felt like we had gotten away with something and escaped a life or death situation. He cut the engine and just sat there for a second, exhaled and looked over at me with his easy confidence. 

"Told you," he said, like the whole thing had been under control the entire time. My hands were held in white fists unconsciously. I was still coming down from an adrenaline rush.

We carried the Costco stuff inside his house, and I heard his family making noise doing something upstairs. We bumped shoulders in the doorway, boots leaving wet tracks on the floor. His house smelled like warm, home-cooked meals and a fancier laundry detergent than we used. It was pleasant. I hadn’t been inside that house in a long time, as it had been at least a couple years since their family invited mine over for some party. I couldn’t stop thinking about Jason and what it would be like to spend more time with him, but his family was calling him to do stuff, so I headed home.

I walked into my empty house and tore off my coat and shirt, then plopped onto my couch, immediately pulling my pants and underwear down to my knees, feeling the corduroy couch on my bare ass, a sensation I had learned to associate with being naughty. The smell was musky and dense, since I had never cleaned up after cumming in my underwear earlier.

I was still alone, sprawled on my couch, phone glowing bright and no lights on. I immediately opened Jason’s twitter feed.

My thumb dragged slowly through the hardcore porn clips as I just barely gripped myself over my shorts, imagining him pleasuring himself while watching the same videos and pics. 

I was such a quick trigger lately, I had to stop touching myself for minutes at a time. My next nut felt so close to the surface. I even thought back to the way he barely poked my boner as a joke and how I came from that. 

His feed was so good. 

He even reposted some funny gooner meme shit, like one of just a bunch of guys saying dumb shit like “I’m a porn addict” and “I touch my smelly boy penis all day” and videos of guys jizzing with each other to porn. I laughed but it was hot. And there was a bunch of shit like that. 

An hour or so into alternating between barely touching myself and not touching at all since I was still such a quick trigger, he texted me that he needed to get out of the house. 

I replied, "You can come here. There's no chance of going anywhere else in this weather."

He came over a little after 5pm, and it was already dark outside. I heard his boots on the steps before the knock, snow getting shaken off, the door opening to a rush of cold air. He looked flushed even from the short walk, hoodie dusted white, eyes bright like he was still high on the adrenaline from getting out of the house and walking through the blizzard. We stood there for half a second making eye contact, neither of us moving out of the way.

I stepped aside and let him in. He peeled off his jacket and tossed it over the chair, close enough that his shoulder brushed my chest. I felt that contact linger as a tingle down my body. My heart was already beating hard and I hadn’t even said anything yet.

“I was kinda losing my mind,” he said, trying to laugh it off. “Snow days do that.”

I nodded and swallowed. The room felt different with him in it. I was suddenly self conscious about how my Mom kept the pillows arranged and things like that, and all I wanted to do was goon with him, taking out our dicks and playing with them together. He started to settle on my couch and pull out his phone when I just said it. 

“I’ve been gooning,” I said, making him half smile and look at me questioningly.

“Since we got back,” I said. 

He just nodded, his smile turning more toward understanding. 

“Jealous,” he said, “My family has been in my space.”

He grabbed his crotch for a fraction of a second as he got comfortable on the couch. My face felt hot.

“I was strokin’ it to your feed,” I added, as I sat down next to him.

He smirked. 

“Yeah?” he said. “Figures.” 

He shifted his weight closer, like the admission had given him an idea. The tension didn’t break. If anything, it felt stronger. 

“Show me what you watched,” he said, making me smile.

I paused just long enough to feel the rush go through my body, then I unlocked my phone and turned it so we were both looking at it. His feed was loaded in a second, and we sat shoulder to shoulder, close enough that our arms kept brushing. I could feel the warmth coming off him, the way he leaned in and made body contact casually. 

He made a couple comments about the girls on the feed, casual, straight‑guy commentary, but his eyes kept flicking to my crotch like he was checking my reaction. I nodded along, tried to keep my breathing normal, tried not to notice how the room felt tighter now that we were sharing the same little glow from the screen. It felt like showing him wasn’t about the video at all. It was about getting horny together.

He shifted his position on the couch like he’d made up his mind about something. He tugged his waistband, and pulled himself out, letting his long, thick pink shaft jut into the air. It looked as big as the guys on the porn feed. Several inches longer than me, and thick like a celsius can. It made my stomach flop. I looked at his rod with wide eyes, and he looked back at me. He was smiling a little, but it was casually like this was just another part of his routine as he started rubbing the head in tight squeezes. He had no qualms about pulling it out in front of me and jerking off. But to me it felt like he was inviting me into a special part of his life. 

I froze for a second, my brain scrambling to catch up, then just kept staring. It was easily the biggest dick I had ever seen, length and thickness both unreal. It looked heavy and my chest tightened. 

“That’s so awesome,” I blurted out.

“She’s stacked as fuck,” he replied, clearly thinking I meant the girl in the current clip. 

“Yeah,” I said, trying to make it seem like I was paying attention to the same thing as him.

I pulled myself out too, eagerly joining like it was my rite of passage into manhood.

“Nice dick, bro,” he said, half laughing, before adding. “That smell is rank, bro.”

I chuckled, shy for half a second, but grateful for the compliment anyway. 

“That’s awesome,” he said, “smells like boy juice, good orgasm.”

I thought that was so hot, I was afraid I would cum.

Out of nowhere, he added, "I'm a lazy gooner porn addict and all I do is rub my smelly boy penis all day and make my boy parts happy and empty my sperm tanks."

“Fuck,” I said back, having no idea how to add to that. I believed what he said.

He started saying more wild stuff, along the lines of what “gooners” do on twitter. I couldn’t believe he would jerk off in front of me, let alone start saying crazy shit that I would feel embarrassed even saying alone. 

It wasn’t even what he said as much as how loose he sounded, like he’d dropped the version of himself he showed everyone else. He was devolved into a vulnerable, honest, horny monster that matched a fantasy of mine I didn’t even know I had. 

As it went on, my brain lagged while my body reacted strongly. Everything narrowed, my thoughts got fuzzy around the edges, and I felt myself slip into a blank, buzzy headspace. I was a gooner zombie like him. My inhibition shut off and I let my instinct take over, like I was watching myself get pulled along and not stopping it. 

I felt like a horny gremlin, my head was a ball of lead, my body on autopilot, every rational thought dulled down to a low hum. It was like I was watching myself from a few feet away, aware but not steering, caught in the gravity of the moment as I edged myself. I felt like a robot, responding to cues and making no choices for myself.

Without really deciding to, I slid my foot over and let it rest against his leg. The contact was light at first, like a test. I waited for him to pull away but he didn’t. The warmth through the fabric made my stomach flip, and that tiny point of contact became the strongest sensation on my body.

Jason watched me with a mix of curiosity and gooned nonchalance as I used my foot to hook the waistband of his underwear and ease it down to his ankles, slowly but firmly. I nudged them the rest of the way off his feet and paused there, our toes touching, giving him time to stop me. He still didn’t, so I gripped his underwear in my toes and dragged them up toward my crotch. I rubbed them onto my dick and balls for a second, then brought them to my face and pressed the fabric over my nose and mouth, breathing in slowly and deeply. It was warm and familiar, unmistakably his, and the second I did it I knew I’d crossed another line, but I was following my instincts in the moment. No wrong answers. My chest lifted as I felt the tingles shoot down my body. 

Jason watched me, his big, thick dick sticking out in front of him. His jaw dropped in shock but his eyes stayed half closed. He didn’t judge at all. I stared at him while I inhaled his ball smell, wearing his underwear like a covid mask, barely touching my groin at all so I didn't cum. 

He surprised me by quickly matching my gesture. My eyes went wide as he leaned over and sniffed my balls directly while working himself quicker. I spread my legs slightly by instinct as he took a second big whiff, his nose touching my balls.

He suddenly gave me a little lick right near the head of my hard shaft, and I started to cum immediately. I grunted forcefully as he watched my cock thrash around, squirting my streaks of jizz into the air and up my chest and around the couch. Neither of us touched it, letting my orgasm flow through me while I held the underwear to my face.

He got up on his knees and released his own load onto my cock and balls and thighs, all while I convulsed in ecstasy, showered in cum and gooned out of my fucking mind. 

I sat there chewing on his underwear, while he stared down at me. 

A strong moan from his phone made us both look at it. It was a girl sucking cum off her thumb. He looked me in the eye, and I looked back at him. My dick was still hard. 

“Gooner bro,” I groaned, not recognizing my own grainy zombie voice. 

He just nodded, and moved his thumb to my stomach, picking up a glob of our mixed cum. 

He put it into his mouth quickly, before he could talk himself out of it. I saw his face wince a bit, but he gulped. He scooped up another glob, and slowly brought it to my mouth. I opened my lips and let him press his thumb onto my tongue. 

The salty, musky taste hit me to my core. It was gross, but that somehow made it better. 

I just started rubbing myself again, and seconds later, he did too.