He was the guy in the apartment below me who always fought with his girlfriend. The fights never sounded violent, but they were loud enough for him to apologize about it to me when I finally met him on the stoop a month or so after I moved in.

Ben was his name, and he was hot as fuck.

“She’s nuts,” he said by way of explanation. I shrugged, said it was no big deal. “You live with anybody up there?” he asked me.

“No, I live alone,” I said.

“Got a girlfriend?” he said, raising his eyebrow. I told him no, that I was gay and single. “Cool,” he said, nodding his head, his eyes lingering on mine.

After that we would chat whenever we ran into each other in the building or the neighborhood. He was flirty. He still fought with his girlfriend all the time.

It was Saturday night and I was staying in. I put in a load of laundry, and when I went back down to the basement to move it to the dryer Ben was there in a pair of basketball shorts. No shirt.

“Hey chief,” he said as he stuffed his laundry into the washing machine. We chatted about our respective lame Saturday nights. “My girl went out. That’s why it’s so quiet,” he said.

“I noticed,” I said.

“Yeah, well. It’s not so bad cause we usually fuck after we fight. But lately she hasn’t even been blowing me.”

My heart started racing. I tossed the last couple wet socks into the dryer. “Sorry to hear that, man,” I said. Ben shrugged. He looked down at his shorts.

“Fuck, I forgot I wanted to wash these,” he said. He looked at me. Smirked. “Think I could get upstairs without anybody seeing me?”

“Probably,” I said. “Everybody’s out partying I think.”

“Except for us,” he said. He reached for the waistband of his shorts. “You mind?” he said.

“No man,” I said, trying to be casual. Ben slipped down his shorts. I thought he’d at least be wearing underwear, but he wasn’t. He stood there, stark naked in his socks, beautiful butt perched out behind him, plump cock and a pair of round balls in front.

“Thanks man,” Ben said. He tossed his shorts into the washing machine. Closed the lid and started it up. “You should come over,” he said. He reached for his cock, fluffed it as he looked me in the eye. “I’ve got some beer. At least we could have some fun, since we’re both staying in.”

by Natty Soltesz

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