The Fishbowl- Part 3

Before you start laying out the snacks for the Super Bowl tonight, you should save a few minutes for yourself as you read the next installment of this series. It's heating up now, and it's about to get even hotter...

Walking out of the bathroom, I threw my towel into the hamper and headed back into my bedroom, squatting down to avoid my neighbor’s gaze as I headed to the dresser to grab some clothes. I already had a pair of sweatpants in my grasp before I remembered that I couldn’t put them on.

That shower had cleared my head a bit too much, and I’d completely forgotten about the bet somehow in the span of fifteen minutes. It all came rushing back to me now though, all at once. The feeling of being seen, the feeling of being edged to the brink of pleasure. The realization that I still had- I looked down at my watch to see that I didn’t have that on either. Waking over to my nightstand, I saw that it was now 2:00 in the afternoon which meant that I had about 32 hours left to go.

Heading downstairs, my growling stomach alerted me that my entire schedule was thrown out of whack. I hadn’t even eaten since breakfast, and I needed something now. My kitchen should be where I’m spending my time since it has the least number of viewpoints. There’s a window above the sink, but it luckily just looks out at the hedge between my neighbor and I. That’s where I ate my sandwich, dropping crumbs into the sink between bites.

Licking the mayonnaise off of the knife before putting it in the dishwasher, I heard it.

“Oh fuck.”

I hadn’t taken my trash can out to the curb, and it was full to the brim. I’d had some friends over for dinner earlier this week, from a day when I could actually wear clothes, and we’d gone through numerous cans that night. I couldn’t wait another week, but I also couldn’t head outside naked. Could I?

The bet was simple- no clothes until tomorrow when I went to sleep, but they wouldn’t know right? As I stood there stalling, I heard the truck stop again, and it was closer this time. I didn’t have time to grab clothes no matter if they were allowed or not, so I grabbed my house keys and ran out the back door. The coast was clear, and all I had to do was to get my can wheeled down the driveway, and then run back.

I could do this.

As I jogged, I realized that I just looked shirtless if anyone saw me head on, and if I saw someone coming down the sidewalk, I could just wheel the can to face them. This was insane that I was normalizing this, but I had to be prepared.

At the curb now, I got ready to run back to my garage, but the truck was rolling up to me now. With no time, I dashed under the hedge beside me with just enough room to hopefully remain unseen. The foliage stopped a foot or two above the ground with nothing but trunks descending into the dirt. I knelt there, watching the garbagemen step down from their truck and grab my bin.

Their boots were feet away from me, and I had no idea if I was hidden well enough, or if they were able to see the weird naked man mere feet away from them. If they couldn’t see me, then they could probably still hear my heart beating out of my chest which might be even worse. Eventually, after what felt like hours, they drove off down to the next house, and I waited even longer until I couldn’t hear the truck at all before I crept out of my hiding spot. The coast was clear, but I still walked quickly back to my garage, avoiding any of the upper windows in the houses around me. I finally dropped my hands from face and crotch as I stepped inside, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

The breath caught in my throat as I looked up to see my neighbor, the man who’d caught me jerking off in my living room earlier, sitting there on the steps by the door. He was still dressed in the same outfit, but now, as he perched there on the steps, I could see his white briefs through the wide-open legs of his shorts.

He was an older man, with salt and pepper hair and a tight frame, and he looked like he’d never been told no when he was my age.

“I see that you’re still naked.”

“And I see that you’re in my garage.”

He smiled at that one, and after what he’d seen earlier, I almost didn’t even care that my cock reacted so immediately.

“I’m just making sure that everything’s okay over here. Decide to become a nudist?”

Covering myself, I let him know that I wasn’t that bold.

“Then what’s got you heading outside without your skivvies?”

I gave him the whole story, leaving out only that I’d noticed him watching me earlier through my window. He sat there the whole time, looking into my eyes mostly, but he dropped his gaze a few times down to my crotch whenever I adjusted myself.

“And you’ve got to be naked this whole time without covering yourself up?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Call me Rich.”

“I have to stay naked the whole weekend with every window open, Rich.”

He obviously liked the sound of that as he stood up and walked towards me. He was a few inches shorter than me, but his swagger as he walked made me feel like I was looking up at him. He moved my hands away, and I didn’t stop him. He had one hand wrapped around my cock which was hard in seconds, and with the other, he caressed my ass before his thumb found its way right to my asshole, and he pressed against me hard enough to force a whimper from my lips.

“You’re a very god boy, Ian. Aren’t you?”

“I want to be.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

He was walking back down my driveway now without looking back, and I was standing in the open air with precum leaking from my shaft onto the pavement beneath me.

I really don’t think I’m making it out of this weekend in one piece…