My Married Neighbor's Greedy Mouth Begs for My Load

The knock came at 11:17 a.m., just like clockwork.

Jake opened the door wearing nothing but a pair of loose black gym shorts that did nothing to hide the thick outline of his cock. Mark stood there in his usual polo and khakis, the wedding band on his left hand catching the hallway light. Forty-two, thick through the chest and gut, salt-and-pepper hair cut short, and eyes that had been starving for weeks.

“Hey, Jake. You got a minute? The wife is at that conference until late. Thought I’d see if you needed help moving that weight bench you mentioned.”

Jake didn’t bother pretending anymore. He stepped aside, letting the bigger man walk past him. The tension in the air was so thick it felt like static. Mark’s gaze dropped immediately, the way it always did, locking onto the heavy bulge swinging beneath the thin fabric of Jake’s shorts.

They never made it to the weight bench.

This time Mark didn’t even pretend to look around the living room. The second the door clicked shut he sank to his knees right there on the hardwood, breathing hard like he’d just run up stairs. His thick fingers shook as they grabbed at Jake’s waistband.

“I can’t fucking do this anymore,” Mark rasped, voice cracking. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I saw you naked through the window last month. Your cock… Jesus Christ, Jake. I need to taste it. Please.”

The raw desperation on the married man’s face—flushed cheeks, wet lips already parted, eyes glassy with shame and lust—snapped something inside Jake. He hooked two fingers under Mark’s chin, tilting the older man’s head back.

“Then take it out, neighbor. Show me how bad that married mouth wants it.”

Mark moaned like he’d been struck. He yanked the shorts down in one frantic tug. Jake’s heavy cock sprang free, already thickening, veins pulsing along the thick shaft. Mark’s eyes widened with pure greed. Without another word he lunged forward and swallowed the head in one wet, hungry motion.

“Fuck,” Jake growled, threading his fingers through the man’s short hair. “That’s it. Been waiting for you to break.”

Mark made a desperate, muffled sound and took him deeper, lips stretching wide around the girth. He wasn’t skilled, but what he lacked in technique he made up for in sheer desperate enthusiasm. Saliva already spilled from the corners of his mouth as he bobbed, choking himself eagerly on the thick cock he’d been obsessing over for weeks.

Jake’s grip tightened. “Look at you. Big married stud on his knees for the guy next door. That wedding ring on your hand while you slobber all over my dick. You’re such a cock-hungry slut, Mark.”

The words seemed to electrify the older man. Mark moaned louder, the vibration traveling straight up Jake’s shaft. He tried to take more, gagging wetly when the fat head bumped the back of his throat, but he didn’t pull off. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes and still he pushed forward, nose brushing against Jake’s trimmed pubes.

Jake started fucking his face in earnest then, hips snapping forward in short, powerful thrusts. The wet, obscene sounds of throat-fucking filled the apartment—gluck-gluck-gluck—while Mark’s hands clutched desperately at Jake’s muscular thighs. Drool ran down the married man’s chin in thick strings, soaking the front of his polo shirt.

After several minutes Jake pulled out with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting Mark’s swollen lips to the glistening cock. The older man gasped for air, tongue hanging out like a dog.

“Bedroom’s too far,” Jake said, voice rough. “Couch. Now. Lose the pants.”

Mark scrambled to his feet, fumbling with his belt. His cock was rock-hard, straining against his boxers, a dark wet spot already forming. He shoved everything down and bent over the back of the leather couch, thick ass presented, legs spread. The tan line from his wedding ring seemed to glow against his skin.

Jake stepped behind him, spitting into his own palm. He rubbed the slickness over his cock and pressed the fat head against Mark’s tight, virgin hole.

“You sure you want this, married man?”

“God yes,” Mark whispered, voice hoarse. “Fuck me. Please, Jake. I need it.”

Jake pushed forward in one long, merciless stroke.

Mark’s head snapped back, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as his tight ring stretched around the invading cock. Jake didn’t give him time to adjust. He gripped the man’s wide hips and started pounding him in deep, brutal strokes, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing off the walls.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Jake growled. He reached forward and grabbed Mark’s left hand, forcing it back so he could see the gold band on the man’s finger. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Getting your married ass wrecked while your wife’s at work.”

“Yes,” Mark sobbed, pushing back to meet every thrust. “Harder. Use me.”

Jake gave him exactly what he asked for. He railed the bigger man with punishing force, the couch creaking dangerously beneath them. Sweat rolled down both their bodies. Mark’s thick cock swung heavy between his legs, leaking steadily onto the floor.

After several minutes Jake pulled out, breathing hard. “On your knees again. Mouth open.”

Mark spun around so fast he nearly fell. He dropped to the floor, tongue out, eyes locked on Jake’s throbbing cock with pure worship. His own hand flew to his dick, stroking frantically.

Jake fisted his slick shaft, aiming right at the married man’s open mouth.

“Beg for it.”

“Please,” Mark whined immediately, voice shaking with need. “Please cum in my mouth. I want your load. I need it. Shoot it on my tongue, Jake. Feed me. I’m your married cumslut—please—”

The first thick rope of cum exploded across Mark’s tongue. The second splattered his upper lip. Mark moaned like he was coming undone, eyes rolling back as Jake painted his greedy mouth with heavy, pulsing spurts. The married man jerked himself furiously, his own cock erupting seconds later, shooting across the hardwood between Jake’s feet while he frantically tried to catch every drop of his neighbor’s cum.

When Jake finally finished, Mark leaned forward without hesitation and sucked the spent cock back into his mouth, nursing it clean with long, reverent strokes of his tongue. He looked up the entire time, eyes shining with pure submissive lust, cum still glistening on his lips and chin.

For a long moment the only sound was their ragged breathing.

Mark finally pulled off with a wet pop. He swallowed again, visibly savoring the taste, then spoke in a quiet, wrecked voice.

“This won’t be the last time.”

He reached for his discarded pants, slipped the wedding ring back onto his finger with strangely deliberate care, and stood up. His legs were shaking. There was cum on his shirt. His hair was wrecked. He looked thoroughly used.

Mark gave Jake one last hungry look, then slipped out the door without another word.

Jake stood there alone in the sudden silence, cock still half-hard and wet, staring at the closed door. The apartment smelled like sex and sweat. His pulse was still hammering.

He should have felt powerful. Victorious.

Instead a cold, uneasy weight settled in his stomach. The way Mark had said it—this won’t be the last time—hadn’t sounded like a promise between lovers. It had sounded like a man who had just opened a door he would never be able to close again. Like something inside the married man had finally broken, and Jake had been the one to swing the hammer.

Jake looked down at the puddle of another man’s cum on his floor, at the faint handprints on the back of his couch, at his own softening dick still shiny with spit and lube.

For the first time in weeks, the thrill was gone.

And all that remained was the sick, dawning certainty that he had just helped ruin a marriage… and that the man who just left was already counting the hours until he could come back and beg for more.