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The Neighbor

Exhibitionist? Perhaps, but I didn’t know him that well. If he wasn’t knowingly an exhibitionist I was certainly a willing voyeur. His name was Tony and he lived across the alley from me. I frequently saw him from my rear window going about his daily routine. And in the summer part of that routine was regular workouts in his garage, door open and in my clear view – though I seriously doubted he knew that given some of the things I saw him do while we were neighbors.

He was a nice guy, a little serious. We’d occasionally chat if we were in the alley at the same time taking out the trash or doing yard work. He was single, good looking and square jawed. He had a physique that was expertly built, with a powerful chest and a nicely tapered, lean and hard midsection. I tried not to stare at his chest but couldn’t help at least glance at it especially when he was wearing a form fitting t-shirt. I imagine he was accustomed to people looking at him, checking out his physique. Tony commanded attention – he was that kind of guy. None the less, I tried not to be obvious with my glances at his chest when we were talking face to face. But his broad pecs were like a fantasy come true to me and not only because of their impressive size and shape. He also had the most magnificent pair of nipples, large in diameter and protruding enough so that they were impossible for me not to notice through his shirts. Their position on his pecs was a little unusual. They were positioned farther apart than most men’s nipples. They were poised toward the outside of each pectoral so that even from a full frontal view of his chest his nipples were in semi-profile. If he ever worked his own there was no way he could reach them both with one hand as I often do with my own. His were clearly a two handed job, one hand for each nipple.

One particularly hot summer day I had a one in a million opportunity to see Tony up close. He had been doing work on his garage, and though he ordinarily didn’t go shirtless outside, that day he decided to strip it off, the ninety degree weather being more than he could bear. I had just parked my car in back and was within ear shot. “Hey Tony, how’s it going?” He looked over and nodded in my direction, and put down the step ladder he was setting up. “Hey man, can you give me a hand?” he asked. Whoa I thought – you bet I can! “What can I do for ya Tony?” “I just need you to hand me a couple of things while I fix this gutter. It’ll just take a few minutes.” For the next ten minutes I was in virtual paradise. Tony stood there right in front of me elevated about two feet on the step ladder reaching for the gutter. As he asked I handed him tools and hardware. His big arms were raised up above his head and his massive chest and huge nipples were practically in my face! He was focused on his work so I took advantage and gazed the spectacle of his sweat drenched rippling musculature and the details of his brown delectable nipple flesh. As he reached up overhead the skin of his chest stretched as did the flesh of his areolas. They sort of creased slightly as his nipples stretched from their usual circular shape to oval. The aureole flesh was fairly smooth except for a ring a tiny, evenly spaced bumps around their perimeter. They were medium brown with a hint of pink which became more prominent toward the nipple heads. The nipple heads themselves were beautiful half inch protrusions of what must have been magnificently sensitive flesh if their slightly crenulated and pinker appearance was any indication. I burned the images into my memory knowing this opportunity may not come again. “Can you hand me the screw driver man?” “Huh – oh yeah. Here ya go.” I felt embarrassed. Had he noticed my voyeurism? I hoped he wouldn’t notice the growing swell in my pants. I mean he was straight, right? At least that’s what I had always thought. But I wonder if the circumstances were…. “Ok, we’re all done. Thanks man.” And that was that. I thanked him too, took a deep breath, and went inside. I’d have lit up if I smoked. But I didn’t and had a cold one instead. Damn!

In the weeks that followed I would see Tony working out in his garage from my rear window as I had before. But now I fantasized about being there, up close. He really wasn’t all that far away though. I could see him clearly. But knowing how he looked from just a foot or so away from my face made the experience of watching him workout more enticing, more erotic.

Ordinarily Tony would do his workout, which included lots of chest work, then put his equipment away, and close the garage door from inside. I’m not sure what he was doing but usually he wouldn’t emerge from the garage for half an hour or so after that. Then one day that routine changed in a surprising way.

Tony was always into his routine. I never saw him workout with anything other than a laser focus. The bench presses were always impressive. I loved seeing him do incline dumbbell flies too. It was awesome to see him strain against those huge weights, every fiber in his bare torso struggling with the burden he’d decided to challenge himself with that day. He finished his routine and dragged the bench to the side of the garage and put away the plates and bars. And that’s when I expected to see him once again stretch overhead to reach the garage door handle and pull it down. But he didn’t. The door stayed wide open. He paced in the garage for a minute and shook his arms and rolled his shoulders to loosen up. When he stopped he seemed to be starring at the wall. And with a grace that is uniquely masculine he began to pose. First was the double bicep. Awesome! I was seeing him from a quarter angle and the wall he was looking at was out of my view. But it soon became apparent that he was looking into a mirror. I had had no idea he was a competitive bodybuilder. But this made sense. He must be preparing for a contest. Tony stopped and grabbed a bottle of oil from a space just out of my view, obscured by the frame of the open garage door. He applied the oil to his arms and legs rather quickly. And when he began to apply the oil to his torso he did so quickly as well – until he got to his chest. The first few rubs of oil across his broad chest and ever-erect nipples went quickly. But then he stopped for a second, his brow furrowed a bit. He had an expression on his face of a person who had just discovered something – something surprising, something altogether intriguing. He resumed oiling his chest. But now he seemed to avoid his nipples, doing so carefully. Tony squeezed more oil into his palms and paused, looking at himself in the mirror. I could see his eyes leveled at the reflection of his own pecs and nipples, his eyes glancing from left to right and back again, his lips slightly parted as he inhaled deeply and lifted his oily hands. When his palms met his chest they were positioned directly over his manly erect nipple flesh. Tony rubbed the oil onto his chest and nipples in a deliberate and slow circular motion. He seemed to wince but I knew it wasn’t pain he was experiencing. His eyes closed and his head dropped back as he continued to massage the oil over his sensitive nipples. He was lost in the experience, as was I! I was rock hard and working my own nipples as well, witness to the birth of a fellow chestman and nipple worshipper as he rubbed his nipples for the first time, breathing deeply as he did so. At least a minute had passed before Tony snapped out of his self induced trance. He looked at himself in the mirror and shook his head a few times as if to try to wake up. After that the garage door came down. I closed my curtains and got my own oil and looked at a dvd. After that a cold one wasn’t going to do.

Over the next couple of weeks Tony continued to train hard. Each workouts was followed by a posing routine. Each posing routine included a session of oiling. And each oiling included at least a brief attention to the profound pleasure Tony experienced rubbing his own nipples. Perhaps he enjoyed longer sessions in the privacy of his own bedroom. I could only speculate and hope he was giving them the full attention they deserved. But for now a cursory, brief stimulation was all he was going to do with his garage door open. But whereas before Tony would study the form of his posing from head to toe I could now see his gaze almost always at nipple level, glancing left and right and back again. He was absorbed by the new capacity for pleasure he had discovered and the parts of his body that made such pleasure possible.

August is always hot. But this August day was especially hot. Tony was getting close to the contest date and looking super human. His workout complete he posed and oiled as I watched from just inside my rear window. He had reached my favorite part and was rolling his palms over his outer pecs when a loud crash from the ground beneath my window startled both of us. I moved aside but perhaps not quickly enough. I was bare chested with both hands on my nipples when the noise made Tony turn his head sharply in my direction. I saw him look toward my window. Did he see me? My heart was pounding. I was nervous as hell. The neighbors cat ran off leaving a broken flower pot in it’s wake – and two men rudely interrupted.

A few days passed and I was parking my car in back. “Hi, how are you?” Tony was in his garage putting away his lawn mower. The thick smell of freshly cut grass filled the air. Tony was hot and sweaty. His t-shirt was almost transparent because of the perspiration. It clung to him as if it were painted on. He looked hot as hell. “I’m ok. How are you?” I was both nervous and getting aroused. We hadn’t seen each other or talked since the day of the damn cat. “I’m doing well, really well. Thanks for asking.” And with an uncharacteristic half grin, and almost imperceptible nod he turned slowly away and walked toward the back door of his house. I was a bit edgy and hot and bothered at the same time. I wasn’t sure I could trust my own eyes. But had he bounced his pecs for me as he turned away? Or maybe it was an involuntary muscle contraction. He had been training very hard. None the less, I was worked up and had to pay myself some good attention and fast. I made my way inside.

I was just about ready to hit the play button when I heard the rattle of Tony’s garage door. I couldn’t help myself and went to the window, peeking out as discreetly as I possibly could. And there he was, Tony in all his manly glory wearing nothing but red training shorts and athletic shoes standing just inside the open garage door. His body was contest ready, ripped. The fine definition of his pecs made his nipples look even more prominent. They were begging for attention.

I thought it was odd that Tony’s bench wasn’t in position for a workout. Apparently Tony wasn’t doing a workout today – at least not a workout involving weight training.

Tony started his posing routine. I think he hit most of the poses he’d do in the contest. He was a work of art and was sure to place. He never looked in my direction seemingly focused on himself and his form. Still, I noticed his eyes glancing back and forth at the reflection of his chest and nipples. I watched mesmerized. Then he reached into the area just out of my sight and produced a bottle of oil. Oh my God, I thought to myself, here we go. But I had no idea what was to come.

Tony oiled his body saving his chest for last. By the time his oiled palms met his half inch erect nipple flesh I was ready to burst – but thank God I didn’t let myself go yet. Tony rolled his palms over his nipple heads around and around and around. Thirty seconds passed, then a minute. Damn, he hadn’t been into it like this since the first time weeks ago. Two minutes passed and his head had dropped back. I couldn’t believe my eyes – this was sensory overload! Then Tony leveled his head and looked at his own reflection in the mirror. Now he was doing something I’d not seen. He had stopped rolling his nipple heads with his palms and was now slowly rolling his nipple heads with his thumbs, two at a time, non-stop while I watched. This was too much! Ordinarily I’d keep one hand below the belt and use the other to rub both my nipples at the same time, thumb and index finger, while I watched him. But for this I was compelled to do exactly as Tony did. I began rolling both my nipples with my thumbs keeping in rhythm with Tony. This part of the session went on for a good five minutes and I could feel my juices welling up. I could only imagine what Tony was feeling. He had that sort of wincing expression again as he stared at himself. His training shorts were straining. He turned slowly, never taking his gaze off his own reflection and soon I had a perfect frontal view. His nipples protruded from his perfectly cut outer pectorals. I could see them give way under the gentle pressure of his thumbs, rolling non-stop and ever so deliberately for maximum pleasure. I didn’t know how much longer I could contain myself but kept my fingers on my nipples for the pure erotic pleasure of it. By now the sensation was spreading across my own chest, through my own pectoral muscles. Then Tony’s head began to turn ever so slowly – but not in my direction. He looked down at his own nipples as if to study his own technique, first the left for a minute and then the right and again. He began to breathe a bit more quickly. So did I. Tony pressed his nipples with his thumbs now, slowly pushing them forward minding the sensation as he did. He gripped them both pulling and twisting them, the skin of his muscular chest stretching behind them to accommodate his firm pull. He was so into his nipples there was no telling how long this session was going to last. And just as I thought that Tony resumed stimulating his hot nipple flesh with his thumbs, this time flicking them up and down, up and down. I could see his nipple heads flipping and bouncing on both the upswing and down stroke of his relentless flicking thumbs. This had always been my favorite and I was enjoying it now more than I ever had before. The sensation that had begun in my chest was now spreading further and my groin was beginning to tingle in addition to the pressure of pent up juices that it felt. All the while Tony had been looking at his own nipples, checking them out surely fascinated by this new pleasure I’d been privileged to see him discover – and continue to indulge in. But then Tony began to flick his nipples more rapidly – I was transfixed and knew exactly how intense that felt, how intensely he must be feeling it. And he moved his head slowly, his gaze no longer on him self, but seemingly on the ground at his feet, and then on the ground three feet in front of him. His gaze continued to move across my backyard and up the wall toward my window. Oh my God, he had been doing this for me all along! He never stopped flicking his nipples, standing there in the open garage door on that hot August afternoon. He never stopped and wouldn’t stop – until I was done. He looked up at me and starred me directly in the eyes. I knew then I’d have my first nipple orgasm – a gift from Tony. I tried to hold back – I really did. We went another five minutes both of us flicking our sensitive nipples heads faster, then slower, rolling them and flicking them again until finally the sensation that only nipple worship can bring surged through my entire body like a tidal wave of pleasure forcing the pent up juices in my loins to jizz in several hot streams in front of me. My eyes practically rolled back and I moaned in pleasure again and again. And then a moan I heard came from outside, from Tony’s garage. As I regained my focus I could see that that awesome nipple man had experienced the same as me as the wet spot on his training shorts grew larger, the fabric jerking from inside several times as it did. Gasping, we caught our breath and dropped our hands down to our sides. And with an uncharacteristic half grin and almost imperceptible nod Tony looked back up to me, stepped back, and the garage door rattled down.