Jacob's story - part 1

Father, I know you are used to working in a charitable world, but I was raised to believe that charity begins at home. What I've learned along the way is that it doesn't end there.

The morning I moved into the sage green house next door to Jacob he lost no time in knocking on my door to introduce himself. He was very friendly and generous - he brought me a box of vegetables from his garden as a house-warming present. "Dew fresh," he called them with a grin. He lived alone and he made me believe he was happy to have someone next door he could have a conversation with.

After a few moments of chatting he left me to get on with the unpacking. The movers had done a great job, and I didn't really have that much furniture. Mostly books, prints, kitchen equipment, and my photographic gear. By early afternoon I was pretty much moved in, with just the prints left to hang. A job for tomorrow - or maybe not at all - I wanted to see where the light falls before I hung the works.

On impulse I called over to see if Jacob would like to join me for a meal that evening. He was clearly pleased to be invited, so I headed off to the market for salmon and new potatoes to go with the 'dew fresh' green beans from Jacob's garden. A couple of bottles of Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc. Oranges. Eggs. Cream. 

When I returned home I set the wine chilling and began the dessert - my own version of creme catalana - not very formal, just a rich egg custard. It's all a bit crazy this foodie trip - I like to eat, sure, but really, who cares *that* much. Spludge of cointreau, shave off some zest, into the fridge, easy.  I rinsed off the beans and potatoes; boned out the salmon - ready for business.

I had just enough time for a quick shower and a change of clothes before Jacob knocked on the door. He'd been a big man in his day, and he still packed a firm handshake. I liked him a lot. He was dressed in a crisp shirt and jeans; very sharp for an older man. I poured him a glass of wine which he sipped and gave a sigh of contentment.

"Delicious," he proclaimed, saluting me with the wine glass and helping himself to another cashew nut.

Yes, you are, I thought. I hadn't imagined I'd find myself falling for the next door neighbour, but I was lusting after Jacob in spite of myself. I took a gulp of my wine, and made a start on dinner. I needed something to distract me - my cock was already taking an interest.

Jacob perched on a stool at the end of the kitchen counter and we chatted while I started cooking. He'd lived in the area for most of his adult life, his grandparents were immigrants from Sweden. He was a retired civil engineer, and he liked gardening. He warned me about Mrs Pearson, the nosy gossip who lived across the road. Apparently she sat in judgement at a table by her front window, and Jacob hated her.

The potatoes were steaming, the salmon was nicely grilled, and I drizzled honey and soy sauce on the flash fried beans and finished them with a sprinkle of sesame seeds. We decided to eat at the kitchen bench. I lit candles, and stood up to eat. Jacob ate and drank with gusto. It was fun to have someone to cook for, especially in this casual way. It'd been quite a while since I'd entertained anyone, and as the wine took hold, we talked and laughed like old friends.

Dessert was a complete hit. I sprinkled the creamy custard with a good layer of sugar and torched it with my blowtorch. Jacob gurgled with delight at the voluptuous pleasures of the catalana. I served coffee and offered Jacob liqueurs. He opted for a smooth and comfortable Glayva, and allowed himself to be pressed to a second. 

Jacob attempted to stand and staggered a little. I rushed and caught him around the waist as he swayed on his feet.  

"Careful, my friend."

He laughed.

"You bastard, you've got me a little drunk." 


He steadied himself against the counter top. He paused for a moment, and then suddenly kissed me on the cheek. He blushed.


"Thank you for dinner, I think I better be going."


I looked at him. He didn't look back at me, suddenly troubled.


I helped him ease back on the stool. 


"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that." He twitched and looked guilty.


I stroked my hand up his back, and cupped my hand on his neck. He felt warm and soft. I stepped closer and held his chin up and kissed him slowly on the lips.


"I'm sorry," I said, "I shouldn't have done that."


His eyes widened with surprise. He opened his mouth a little as if to speak, and I kissed him again.


"I'm sorry," I said, "I shouldn't have done that." 

I looked at him and I smiled. He smiled like some goofy kid. I kissed him again. 

"I'm sorry I said I'm sorry because I'm not sorry at all."

"No," he said, "Me neither."

"Ok, now you were saying you wanted to go. You better let me help you because for some unknown reason you seem a bit unsteady on your feet."

He looked pained. "God, no, that old ko across the road will gab on about it. I can manage."

He tried to stand again, and then plumped down.

"Come on, I think you better spend the night here."

He hesitated, thinking it through, then slowly nodded.

"I don't have a guest room, are you ok with that?"

He nodded again, with a little more enthusiasm now.

"This is not just a shabby attempt to get your new neighbour into bed is it?"

"No," he said, with the solemness that only a drunk man can muster, "I wouldn't."

"Come on then, bedroom's this way." I slipped under his arm and lifted him with my shoulder. We staggered our way, laughing, to the bedroom.

I sat him on the bed and stripped his shirt off. He had smooth skin on his chest with very little hair. I wanted to caress him, tease him. I was tired but my cock was quickly trying to burst through the seams. 

"Take off your jeans while I get us some water."

Jacob kicked off his stubborn shoes, and after some effort, undid his belt. He was still sitting the way I'd left him when I returned. I poured him a glass of water.

"Here, drink this."

He gulped it down somewhat reluctantly.

"And this." I refilled the glass and gave him a couple of pills.

"What's that - Viagra?"

"No, vitamin B. Swallow that with the rest of the water."

"God, now I have to have a piss."

"It's ok, drop your pants and piss in this." I held out the jug.

He winced a little and reached for the jug. 

I pulled it away. "No, drop your pants, and then you can piss."

"C'mon, I need it!"

"Pants. Piss. Do it."

Jacob conceded defeat with a nervous little laugh and lifted up enough to slide his jeans down. 

Oh my god, white Y-fronts. Old fashioned to the core. How sweet. "Undies as well, come on."

He grunted and pushed his underpants down. His cock was throbbing, semi-erect. I wanted to stroke it to full strength, right there and then. I handed Jacob the jug and with only a moment's hesitation he closed his eyes and began pissing. When he had finished I slowly pushed harder against his shoulder until gravity took over and he slumped backwards on to the bed. I took the jug and emptied it. 

When I returned Jacob had pulled his underwear back up. I said nothing but reached down and pulled off his jeans. 

I stood up and looked at him, and smiled. "You look a bit nervous, Jacob."

He looked up at me expectantly, smiled slightly and nodded. 

I grabbed his underpants across the crotch and pulled them down to his knees. Jacob's cock was harder, and I wrapped my hand around it and squeezed. He moaned softly. I pulled his Y-fronts off and tossed them aside.

"Get in the bed," I ordered.

He rolled around, and managed to free the duvet and sheet enough to get under the covers. I turned down the lights, stripped and got into bed. Jacob turned and kissed me. 

"Thank you. I haven't been in bed, naked, with someone else, for a very long time. I hope - " 

I squeezed his cock to stop him. "Shhhhh! No more words."

I pushed his chest and he rolled over on to his back. I stroked his cock slowly and gently. He sighed and surrendered to my touches. I thought he was relaxing, enjoying the companionship that a little shared masturbation brings, when a gentle snore broke in. 

Oh my god, what a great lover I am, I finally get a man in bed with me and he goes to sleep. I could sell this on late night tv advertorials for insomniacs: 'Step right up! Sex to sleep through. Send no money now!'

In the moments while I was planning my tv campaign Jacob's erection had collapsed. Too much wine, and too tired, to carry on. Jacob snored gently on into the night like some sort of distant train.   

Fair play, I thought, If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. I rolled him over on his side, and snuggled in against him, my cock pressing into his butt cheeks. I put my arm around him and was asleep in moments.

I woke feeling fuzzy and slightly the worse for wear. Perhaps a little restraint when it comes to drinks? How come the voices in your head whine like that snooty lover who was always trying to change you? Screw you! 

I was standing in the shower before I realised Jacob wasn't in the bed when I got up, and wasn't here in the bathroom, and I couldn't remember seeing his clothing, so maybe... maybe he'd gone home after all. Hangovers - even mild hangovers - how very high school of me. I laughed grimly at my own discomfort, rinsed off, cleaned my teeth twice, swallowed some drugs to work on the headache and a couple of glasses of water.

I pulled on some clothes, and went to see if I could find Jacob. I got as far as the back door and almost stepped on a bunch of flowers, with a card. 'Thank you', was all it said, in a firm and deliberate handwriting. 

I put the flowers in the jug, and left them on the kitchen bench.

>>> Jacob's story - part 2 >>>

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