*house inspection 1*

2004-05-13

5:26 p.m.

*house inspection 1*

Sunday afternoon and there I sat at my patio table, iBook open, catching up on d-land entries. My spot at the table has always been with my back to the house looking toward the lattice semi-private wall I'd built between my house and the neighbor's. At the moment it's semi-private, but by mid-summer vines will have overtaken it and it gets quite private, sexy even, especially when they grow up and over the pergola creating a canopy.

The neighbor's house actually hasn't had a neighbor in it for well over a year, but that's been fine by me. People had been starting to come around looking at it a few months ago, all of them crackers until a couple weeks ago. Sitting out here on the patio I do as often as possible, and without the vines I can see everything that goes on over there through the lattice.

Well, a couple weeks ago it was on the duskier end of dusk, I couldn't see so good anymore, so it was time to move camp. Then I noticed someone wandering in the back yard of the neighbor's house. A tall guy, thin, and despite the dusk and having to peer through lattice holes, I somehow sensed that he was no cracker. This one might make a good neighbor candidate.

Not wanting to miss the chance to speak and show I was no cracker either, I grabbed my martini (yes, in a proper martini glass) and rushed to the back yard chain link fence. I called out to him to get his attention. He was standing maybe 30-35' away. When he heard me he walked toward, but only cutting the distance by 10'. Odd to respond to an offer of conversation by standing 20' away. I know about 'personal space', but jeesh!

"Wanna know anything about the neighborhood?" I asked taking a pull off my martini glass and hoping he'd be able to distinguish it from a Bud Lite can.

"No." Another strange response, but delivered pleasantly enough.

So I proceeded to say nice things about it anyway. He had no response.

"OK," I said. "Well, hope to see you back soon."

He nodded and walked off.

About all I could tell about him was that he was tall, thin, white, nicely featured, very dark hair, nice voice, mid-30s maybe, and shy.

A week later I saw him through the lattice -- early evening this time -- in the front yard. He was with a woman whom I assumed was his wife. I was with martini again and went to the hedge that separates the front yards to say 'hey'..

Seeing him in early dusk... wow. Handsome as twenty hell. Jet black hair, dark eyes, perpetual 5 o'clock shadow, even freshly and cleanly shaven as he was. He had that Italian Stallion look that gets me every time, but without the attitude that far too far often accompanies it. He was dressed down in really baggy clothes, so I really couldn't check out his bod. I suspected something tasty going on there, though. There was a pheromone thing that hit me as well. My cock twitched, I could feel drool pooling in my mouth. Given the chance, I wouldn't know where to begin with him.

This is the closest image I can find to him. I didn't expect his bod to be so buff. I didn't learn that till later.

I was snapped out of my trance and learned in an instant why he was so quiet. The woman strode up to the fence.

"Hi! I'm Kathy!" she asserted, and pointing back over her shoulder to Tasty Dude who was standing about 10' away from her, she added rather flatly, "That's Tony."

Tony. How appropriate. Another glance at him, another cock twitch, but this time with some plumping and the beginnings of a dick drool. He looked at me with a sheepish but oh so sexy smile, then looked at his sneakered feet. Hot, yes, but if he'd be another one of those that in the sack would need the sexual equivalent of those footstep things they put on the floor of Arthur Murry's to learn the foxtrot, forget it. He was whipped. Hopelessly, irretrievably whipped.

She again snapped me out of it, praising what I'd done with my yard, the palms and bananas in particular, and the lattice-work I'd done.

With respect to her, sexy and not, all at the same time. Long, dark blond hair, a good 5'10", built, and by that I mean it's obvious she works out and takes good care of herself. Boobs? Cantaloupes, which are a bit much for my taste. She might could stand to loose about 20 lbs., but that's ok. I'd find her hot if not for her presence. Too strong. Her chosen profession should have been dominatrix. Not my cup of tea. In fact, its a turn off, be it guy or gal.

I asked her if she wanted to know anything about the neighborhood.

She said, "No. Tony told me everything you told him."

"Oh. OK. Anything I or he left out?"

"How do they treat you? I mean the neighbors?"

All I could do was give her a look of puzzlement in response.

"Well, you're gay. How do they treat you?"

That threw me for a loop. I knew even less what to say.

"It's no big deal," she said, "I was just wondering."

"They know, or assume, or guess, and don't really seem to give a shit so long as I'm a good neighbor. Which I am."

"Excellent," she said, "We gotta go."

Tony's face went down again before I could catch his eyes. Off she marched, him in tow.

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