Know how I got the title for this story? It was a typo, or maybe a Freudian slip of the finger, as I was thinking of my weekend, or rather 'weak end', with the guy next door. He was mowing the lawn one scorcher of an afternoon last summer. Just a brief forty-three minutes before plowing me. I know the time because I was expecting my wife back from Tulsa. The train was due in at 6.30, and Wade came to my attention at 4 o'clock precisely so I had one eye on my watch and the other on his dick as I counted the minutes. I'd already fallen asleep twice and was afraid I'd do it again. Anyway, in my haste and enthusiasm to convey to you the erotic essentials of that sultry and unexpected afternoon, I wrote 'mown lower' instead of 'lawn mower.' And he sure as hell did make me moan lower, and higher too. In fact I think he must have taken me through the entire oral - and anal - gamut.

Anyway, there I was stretched out in a hammock in the back garden recovering from a great lunch. I had a couple of beers in an ice bucket and was enjoying the last of my freedom. I was wearing next to nothing as I thought the people next door were on vacation. I did have on a pair of loose shorts but I'd cut out the netting as it always got tangled in my toes. The rest of me was bare and rippling in the sun. He was wearing next to nothing too. Shorter than short cut-offs and a wife beater which eventually he took off to wipe his face. Our eyes met over the garden fence. For some reason I felt guilty to be caught lying lazily in the sun while he was working up such a sweat on the lawn next door. I suppose we all have our shortcomings and that's one of mine. Feeling guilty I mean.

I bent down and picked up a can of beer and waved it to him. He put one hand on the wooden fence and vaulted over. He had the greatest of bodies. Maybe just that bit too great as his muscled frame was rather too developed for my liking. Mind you, I hit the gym regularly myself but only enough to build up my biceps in order to get a good grip on Dora's legs when I fuck her and also to avoid the slightest hint of love handles. After all I'm thirty-two and have to be careful. I handed him the beer and we introduced ourselves formally although our dicks were doing a bit of informal introducing themselves.

The sight of his hot hairy armpit as he lifted the beer to his lips sent my dick on a joy ride and his dick seemed to be responding accordingly as he sat down on the recliner just beneath my hammock.

"Mind if I stretch out?" he asked, although the question seemed superfluous as it was obvious he'd done quite a bit of 'stretching out' already.

I knew he was looking up my inside leg and I also knew my third leg was behaving abominably. I must admit there was a bit of an awkward silence between us even though our dicks by now were doing a lot of self-explanatory talking. I think we would have jumped on each other and ripped each other's shorts off if it hadn't been for the shrill squeal of the phone. It was Dora saying she'd missed the train and would probably stay the weekend. I blushed guiltily because it was almost as if she could see me down the phone. My dick descended to its normal level.

Dora had a sixth, or even a seventh sense. Something she had in common with my mother. Or maybe all women have that. You just can't hide anything from them. As I hung up the phone I remembered the time I'd fucked a guy in my dorm and was halfway to heaven when my mother phoned and asked if I was 'behaving myself.' I looked out at Wade and saw that he'd taken off his shorts and was lying butt naked on the recliner. I thought I'd better take out some protective lotion and cream him up a bit. I also decided it would be only neighbourly if I took my shorts off too. I knelt down beside him and was just about to anoint his butt with oil when he suddenly turned over and I found myself face to face with a mouth watering and potentially mouth filling erection.

My tongue shot out eagerly like a wagging welcome mat for his dripping dick to wipe its feet on. I hadn't sucked cock in a long, long time and the thick chunk of meat he wedged in my mouth more than made up for several years of self imposed abstinence. He seemed pretty hungry himself and soon we were in the once familiar sixty-nine position. Dora wasn't into that sort of thing and the last time I'd been able to indulge was when she was having her hair done at our holiday hotel and room service 'came' right at the right time. While Dora's hair was being wrapped around a long hot curling tong I was curling my rapt lips round the Italian waiter's long, hot thong. You see, I've been in denial for some time. Living in a one horse town, where everybody knew me, together with the sincere desire to be faithful to my wife, not to mention the fear of aids, had kept the closet door tightly closed in my face till now.

And yet here I was in my own back garden throwing caution to the wind and sucking away to my heart's content without a condom. Actually I never could stand the fucking things. I mean how can you get a decent blowjob with that mass of rubber masking all the sweet juices that can come out of a guy's dick! Still nowadays I suppose it's folly not to be wise. Ironically, when I first used a condom it was because I was afraid of 'giving life' now it's become more a question of not taking it away. We all run that risk. But I've been clean for so long now, not having had the courage to mess around since my marriage, that I never even think of using a rubber anymore. I suppose Wade should have known better but who the hell thinks of that while giving head on a hot summer afternoon. So we sucked each other dry although it was a pretty wet experience for both of us. I came in his mouth and he erupted in great wads of creamy white cum all over my chest and neck. Even my shoulders. In fact by the time he'd finished with me I looked like a cotton field.

We horsed around with the garden hose like two teenagers and dried ourselves out in the sun. Then we hot tailed it into the house to grab some more beer. Once again I had guilty feelings especially as a big portrait of Dora was staring down at me from the wall. I asked Wade if we couldn't go back to his place. He said it wasn't his place. He was just housesitting but sure we could go. I put on some slacks and a shirt and followed him over the fence. Once again I admired his 'overdeveloped' body as he swung easily over the rail, light as a feather, in spite of being built like a brick shit house.

My mind went back to when I was a teenager watching a TV travelogue with my mother. There was this great Australian guy talking about the beauties of 'down under.' I knew at once that's where I wanted to be. Down under him I mean. He had real tight jean cut-offs and the straggly ends caressed his tanned, nutcracker legs. He had a jean shirt too, open nearly to the navel. I could see the curve of his pecs and the outline of two brown juicy nipples. There were also the beginnings of a bulge in his shorts. My eyes were glued to that bulge wondering if it would get any bigger. I felt something begin to stir between my legs.

I tried to disguise my interest but I could feel my mother's eyes boring their way through the back of my head as if she could read my lustful thoughts. Presently, to my surprise and delight, the heavenly hunk arrived at a waterfall and took off all his clothes. The camera zoomed in as Mr. Australia, surrounded by the beauty of the natural parks, and had a shower in his natural starks. My mother was also very surprised but not at all delighted. She let out a cry of disgust and turned off the TV set. But not before I'd had an eyeful of his long dong and those terrific nipples. My dick was half way to Australia by then. Fortunately I had a pile of books on my lap.

"Whatever next! We're not even safe in our own homes!" she cried.

"I don't see anything wrong." I said, expressing wisdom beyond my fifteen years. "After all, we're all born like that."

"We're not all born that developed!" she said disapprovingly. My mother didn't miss a beat.

Looking back now, after all this time, I'm convinced that my mother's reaction had a real negative effect on my sexual development. Particularly my homosexual development. I mean I never felt comfortable when I was making love to a guy. Which is one reason I got married I suppose and tried to 'go straight.' Another reason was to have children. Now, after seven long years of pretending I'd made the right choice, I know I've been sublimating my real instincts and living in denial. No, not even living. Just existing. Seeing Wade jump so easily over that fence made me think of all the barriers I've been putting up for myself all these years. I was determined to live a little. Let myself go. Do my best to steer clear of guilty thoughts of my mother being able to see me. I knew I wanted Wade to fuck me, or vice versa, or both. Still out of respect for Dora I couldn't very well let that happen in our marital bed. That's why I asked Wade to take me home with him. Instinctively I think he understood. I mean we'd hardly exchanged two words yet he'd already begun to take the initiative.

The house next door was comfortably furnished and spotlessly clean. Naturally, I began to have guilty thoughts of the house-proud housewife coming home and sniffing the air and recognizing the smell of spunk. I wasn't sure I could fuck in her bed either. But Wade was very persuasive. After he'd cooked dinner he did a kind of strip routine for my benefit and peeled off his clothes in the whiter than white kitchen. Then he sat butt naked on the fridge and waggled his sausage-like dick at me and opened his legs and jiggled, almost juggled, his bowling balls until the only thought in my beer-filled head was to fuck or be fucked. He wasn't really my type. At least he wasn't what I'd imagined my type to be. But there was something of the bull, or bulldog, about him; something really animal in his expression, that brought out the beast in me.

That beast had been lurking there, biding its time, all these years, and it had grown hot, strong and completely uncontrollable. I looked at his delicious bubble butt just crying out to be 'blown' and girded my loins for action. I just couldn't wait to get my tongue up there and tickle his fancy. In those few precious stolen hours when Dora was out playing bridge with her girl friends I'd managed to brush up on my labial skills by watching the latest hot porn movie I'd borrowed from the video store in the next town. This I had hidden, appropriately enough, in the tool shed. I'd worked up quite a taste for plating and anal rimming and was grateful to have such a real time specimen of man meat bouncing right in front of my nose just begging to be sniffed and eaten. I must give Wade his due, he was a man of few words but he sure knew how to make a guy hot, happy and horny. The way he shuffled and shambled towards me with his balls and power pylon swinging like the pendulum of a grandfather clock made me want to rush to ring his chimes.

I made a grab for his dick and he playfully jumped out of the way, falling over a chair in the process. I felt like Jack the Giant Killer as I saw him crumble to the ground but I must have been in the wrong fairy tale because he huffed and he puffed and he snuffed and licked his wolf wide jaws as if he was hungry enough to eat me and Little Red, and throw grandma in for seconds. I slid out of my clothes quicker than a snake sheds its skin and slithered over to him. We grappled on the kitchen floor and suddenly I was Goldilocks. Except I didn't have to worry which bed to sleep in as we did it on the floor. I caught him while his pants were down so to speak and began to make breakfast out of his butt with my fork like tongue. His body may have been as hard as the Rock of Gibraltar but something told me there was a sweet button of a rose asshole there someplace, fluttering coyly in the middle of that dark craggy crevice. I knew that it was longing to open its petals and feel the sensual rays of the sun so I was determined to let my hot dick penetrate the darkness and help Wade see the light. He resisted for a while, being the macho man his body purported him to be, but my tongue is a forceful fuck feather. I've used it to great effect on many occasions but not, I must admit, on Dora. Still that tight fisted butt of his gave me a mean old time initially. It was like struggling with all three bears at once. But good old Goldilocks prevailed, as I knew she would.

By the way, I forgot to mention that I almost gave Wade lockjaw in our first encounter in the garden. What he had in muscle I made up for in dick. I knew I could easily trump him in a game of dick rummy any time but from the way he resisted I also knew he was used to being on top and perhaps wasn't quite ready to take the plunge.

I decided to 'wade in' so to speak. His butt really was tight and that little rosebud of his sure kept its cute petals firmly furled. I decided to do a little watering. Summoning as much spittle as I could, I drooled into his ass hole. Little pink lips began to open now and I was able to get my tongue in further. I slithered and I slathered my way in there and the mountain magically began to move and rumble into life. He emitted mammoth groans that I thought had gone out with the Stone Age and wriggled and writhed and humped to enable my tongue to get a better grip on things. I didn't say a word. I didn't dare. Just listened to his body language and let my tongues do the talking. Once I got him so excited he rolled over and nearly sat on my face. I decided to switch tongue with fingers and before long had my arm practically half way up his anus. He agitated his butt and spat out obscenities at me but I knew I had him exactly where I wanted him who was literally wrapped around my fingers. At my sexual beck and call. Soon he'd be on the end of my dick.

I reached out for a slab of butter from the fridge. It was half frozen but the heat of my prong quickly melted it. I put a knob of cold butter up his squirming ass and oozed my way in there. At that he clenched my dick so hard with his butt that I feared for its life. In fact at one point, I thought he was going to snap it right off or strangle it or something. Then he relaxed and sent shivers up my joystick as he began to shudder like a cat with convulsions. We went on the wildest ride together. We bucked and fucked until that dairy butter fairly sizzled in his pan. I beat the living shit out of his butt and didn't let up until he lay splayed on the kitchen floor, like a squelched spider.

All passion spent I lay down beside him to recover for a moment. But hell hath no fury like a macho man scorned and just as I was putting the butter dish back on the shelf in the refrigerator, he took hold of my legs and opening them real wide, rammed his ramrod right in there. He almost sent my head straight through the other side of the fridge. Of course he had no need of butter. He found my ass easily. And he found it easy. He squeezed my butt cheeks as if he were selecting a ripe melon at the market. Then he started slapping me real hard. Made me real hard too.

I hadn't been slapped that hard since the mid-wife slapped me just after my mother had given birth to me. And Wade gave birth to new feelings inside me as well. Strange contradictory sensations that made me want to roar like a mountain lion and cheep like a bird at one and the same time. When he wasn't slapping me with the flat of his hands he was doing it with the flap of his balls as he pounded away at me as if to get his revenge for the happy humiliation I'd just put him through. I had his dick wedged firmly in my ass and my head wedged firmly between the shelves of the fridge. That way one half of me was red hot, the other pleasantly cool. He made both me and that fridge rock like crazy.

Fortunately the fridge was two thirds empty but my ass was three thirds full. It felt great. I was hot and cold all over. Then, just as I thought both my ass and head would pop, he whipped his dick out of me, and me out of the fridge. He stood up and spat out a series of instructions.

"Get your arms round my neck and your legs round my waist!" he shouted. "Quick!"

I did as I was told and threw my hot sweaty body round him like a soggy blanket. His thong was so hard and rock strong that he couldn't manipulate it so I had to work my way down onto him.

I impaled myself on his dick like the thorn bird I'd read about in a book I found on my mother's bedside table. That was Australian too. I'd found it on my mother's bedside table when I was young and still impressionable. Sweet sixteen and never been kissed. Certainly never been fucked. And now I couldn't help but recall the story of that little bird. It told the story of a little bird that sang its sweetest song as it impaled itself on a thorn. Thanks to my mother's book I finally knew why.

So, in spite of myself, there I was, mid-fuck, still thinking of my damn mother! But even if the book hadn't reminded me of her she'd still be there pricking my conscience while he was pricking my ass. I felt as if I was back bouncing on her knee. But I was bouncing on something altogether different and altogether better. As I slid up and down his thick dick, he played me like a slide trombone. I trumpeted happily and then moaned in time with the marvellous music I was feeling inside me.

I moaned sweet and low like a jazz singer. I moaned like a hound dog baying at the moon. I moaned like a bitch in heat. And I moved my accommodating ass up and down that great trombone of his and played it for all I was worth. And the more his groovy dick entered me, the more I entered into the groove. And into ecstasy. I shut my eyes for a moment to enjoy the full thrust of it. When I opened them again I saw he was looking at me with liquid lust and a watering mouth. I plunged my butt down hard on his dick to tell him I felt the same. Then he did the unexpected. He shot out his tongue and kissed me passionately as he erupted inside me and creamed my ass with his milky cum. His tongue was just as strong as his dick and threatened to swallow me.

His hot spunk swished around in my butt and his spittle sloshed about in my mouth. I was ready to drown in both. My dick was crushed against his chest and I sort of jerked myself off on it. I found there was still plenty of milk in me too and I came like a frigging fountain. Everywhere. In fact, I spurted and spat my jizz all over Wade and all over that immaculate white kitchen and sprayed those spotless walls with strings of sticky cum floss and blobs of cotton candy. But I'm happy to say that not a guilty thought passed through my head. His dick was in my ass and my tongue was in his mouth and that's how I wanted things to stay. My sexual cup was running over and I had neither the time nor inclination to think of anything except what I was feeling at that precise marvellous moment.

I rubbed myself contentedly up against him, moaning low, and slithered slowly down my self-made cum chute to land like a freshly caught trout on the cool kitchen floor.