Preached By My Neighbor (LGBT/18+)

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Dexter Evans

Ever since I met Wesly Bennett; everything became a mess. My beliefs are being altered by an unknown thing. When I discovered Wesly's s****l orientation, I was really mad at myself and at him. Not because he's gay but because he didn't tell me about it. I spat some words, not the gentle kind but the harsh kind, at him, and he clearly didn't deserve it. It felt like it was the Carter incident again. I disowned my own son just because he's gay, told him he deserved to go to hell. I didn't want to do it. But my mother's words kept replaying in my head when I discovered the horrible truth about my son. My mother used to say homosexuals are sinners, a disgrace and an abomination. But Wesly has proved it wrong. My son has proved it wrong. When I first met Wesly, there was something strange stirring inside me, found myself impressing myself to him, like, mowing the lawn, fixing the garden, talking politely to my neighbors, telling him about what I am good at. Things like that. So far, he was impressed and I couldn't help but grin from satisfaction.

Jealousy.

Every time I see Wesly talking to someone, both male and female, I would feel something unnecessary and odd: jealousy. Why do I even get jealous? It’s not right. But whenever I look at him, looking happy and light, it makes my heart swell with pure happiness.

My hand moves to its own accord, to caress his beautiful face. Wesly is looking at me with beautiful wide eyes. Even though he’s shocked, he’s still cute. I lean down and capture his lips again. But as I do so, I see him blushing furiously. I lick my lips and ravish his lips. He immediately kisses me back. My veins are pulsing. His warm saliva making contact with my tongue is enough to send me into a frenzy mode. I take his legs, wrap it around my waist, and continue to kiss him hard.

My eyes widen in realization.

I push him, making him stumble on the ground and I just stare at him with complete utter shock. I did not just do those things to him. I’m… scared. I like the way he feels against me, but this is wrong. Definitely wrong. My wife will skin me alive if she knows about this.

“Dex…” He whispers, standing up and walking towards me. I take a step backward.

“Don’t.” I command, glaring at him as much as I can. He shrinks, puts his head down, and sniffs. Just the sight of him in pain makes me want to cry and die. What’s with you, Wesly? “Just stay away from me, Wesly.” With that, I turn around and get out of his house.

+++

I’ve been awake ever since the incident between Wesly and I. I can’t sleep. All I can think about is Wesly Bennett and those eyes of his. What did I do to him to make me feel this way? Sighing, my wife runs her fingertips on my chest, her head is tucked in my neck, beneath my chin. On my bare chest, I can feel her cold finger running up and down. Normally I would be turned on by the action, but no. My wife hovers on top of me and I just stare at her. Good thing it’s dark, she can’t see me glaring at her. She grabs my hands, puts it on her breasts, and lets me play it.

My wife is beautiful. She is totally what a real man could dream of. She’s almost perfect. If it weren’t for her bent beliefs, she’d be perfect as a sun radiating brightly. She licks her lips slowly, leans down, and nips my neck. I’m not turned on. She crawls down, hooks her finger in my boxers, tugs it down together with my underwear and my looking-like-boneless d**k springs. Lifeless. My wife grabs it, strokes it and the first image comes into my mind is Wesly.

Then my d**k comes into life. Hard and erect.

She strokes it faster, and I moan, then she takes me into her mouth. I moan again, even writhe. All I can think about is Wesly. Wesly. Wesly. Wesly. All Wesly. Damn it. f**k it. s**t. My wife runs her lips on my groin, across my stomach to my chest, then to my neck to my lips. She kisses me, and I kiss her back, putting a palm on the back of her neck, deepening the kiss. Turning us around, me on top of her, I ravish her lips rather forcefully. I just want to get rid of Wesly. I should not like Wesly. I shouldn’t be into him. Unable to contain my arousal, the hotness, not because of my wife but from Wesly, I rip her clothes out of her body and position my d**k in front of her organ.

Pushing myself inside her, she grips the white duvet, clutching it like her life depends on it. She moans, snakes her arms around my neck, and begins going up and down. Slut. That word comes into my mind. It shocks me, too. I don’t know why, but I’ve never thought of my wife that way. She’s no slut. She’s my freaking wife, for Christ’s sake!

Thrusting in and out of her, my vision blurs. The face of my wife changes into the face of Wesly. He’s writhing under my touch. Just the thought of him screaming my name is enough to make me burst. I keep thrusting, groaning, panting, and moaning. My wife screams my name, so loud that it’s enough to let Wesly hear it. Damn it. Then I come.

My body is covered with sweat. The s*x was intense and wild. My wife snuggles next to me, her head resting on my still-covered with sweat chest. Wesly. I hope he didn’t hear my wife’s scream. f**k, why do I even bother? It’s not like we’re couple or something, right?

Snapping my eyes close, I take a deep breath and sleep.

When I wake up, my wife is not there beside me. How typical of her. Inhaling, I get off the bed and take a hot shower. Whenever I shower, I feel relax and at ease, my mind is calming. After taking a shower, I head downstairs, to the kitchen, where my wife is cooking for breakfast. It seems like she’s cooking omelet for our breakfast. She places a cup of coffee on the table before giving me a smile. I smile back. Last night has been crazy. I eat my breakfast, drink my coffee, and go reading the newspaper. Typical husband. Standing up, I make my way outside to get the mail in the mailbox.

The strong gush of wind blows my hair, making it messy. I shiver, feeling the coldness seep right into my skin. Rubbing my arms, I walk over the mailbox and my gaze accidentally lifts up, lands on the guy. The guy comes out of Wesly’s house, and I frown. Who is that guy? What was he doing in Wesly’s house? In my f*****g Wesly’s house? He kisses Wesly’s cheek, and I feel the volcano of anger bursts inside me, filling my chest with its hot and still boiling lava. Gritting my teeth, I call him.

“Wesly!” I say, waving at him. I don’t why I called him. After our big incident, what do I expect? He ignores me. I glare at the guy. But he isn’t looking at my direction. Clenching my hands, I stride my way towards them. “Wesly.”

“See you again, Robert.” Wesly says, smiling up at him. Damn it. You don’t need to smile at him, Wesly! Your smile is only for me! You don’t need to share it to someone else.

“Okay,” the guy says, then he turns to me. “By the way, good job last night, man.”

Fuck. They heard it. They f*****g heard it! Much worse, this guy was in Wesly’s house since f*****g last night! I feel jealous. Why was that guy in my Wesly’s house? House. Robert. Wesly. Wife. Scream. Everything bursts inside my head, and I can’t control it.

I’ve mentioned Wesly’s name too many times. Somewhat, even his name is addicting. The guy, Robert, kisses Wesly’s cheeks again and head off. I glare at Wesly, and he just shrugs his shoulder, turns around, and walks away, shutting the door behind him.

Taking a deep breath, I return to my house and throw the mail grumpily on the table in the living room. I run my hand on my face, clearly frustrated. My wife walks into the living room, sees me, gives me a smile, and heads upstairs.

Everything is Wesly’s fault. But I can’t blame him. My heart chose him, and I hate to admit this, but I really, really, really, so, so, so, so, so like him.

I just hope that one day, when the time is right, I will choose him. And he’d be waiting for me.