The Guy Next Door Is Nailing My Husband
My latest book is called The Guy Next Door Is Nailing My Husband. In it, Justin and Conrad meet their new neighbour Freddie, who's incredibly hot, but - as far as they can work out - pretty straight. Not that it matters anyway, because Justin and Conrad are completely monogamous.
But when Conrad and Freddie start working together to repair the fence between their gardens, it's not going to be long before Justin's discovers the fence isn't the only thing getting nailed. And when he catches his cheating husband in the act it turns out he's more than okay with becoming a cuckold.
Here's a small sample. This is from before the action really kicks off, while the tension's still building:
They spent the first hour or so dismantling the old fence: pulling fence palings off the frame with a crowbar and the back end of a hammer, then dismantling the frame and digging the existing fence posts out of the ground. It was hard work, and turning into a hot day, and by the time I came out into the yard about midday to bring them something to drink they’d both stripped shirtless.
Shirtless Freddie was a familiar sight by now; just about every time I’d looked out the top floor window in the last few weeks he’d been out in his yard in only a pair of shorts and work boots; by now I’d started to wonder if he even owned any t-shirts. Sometimes when I’d seen him I wondered if he just did it to show off.
Fair enough if he did; if I had a body like that I’d be showing it off every chance I got. I mean, I’ve already told you what his body was like. Seeing those muscles ripple across his back as he wrestled a fencepost out of the ground was an instant turn-on; it made me wonder what it would feel like to have him grab me and manhandle me with that same kind of roughness.
Conrad was like a beanstalk in comparison, although he was well-built compared to the average guy: thick torso, toned shoulders and arms, and a chest covered in thick hair. While I’d let myself go a bit over the years of being married, Conrad still looked as good as he ever did. As he approached forty he was well on his way towards turning into a bit of a muscle daddy, and his body looked especially good with the thin sheen of sweat over his skin he’d developed from working in the sun.
I handed them each a glass of sparkling water. “How’s it all going?”
“I think we’re making good progress,” Conrad replied. “Lucky Freddie knows what he’s doing, because I’d be completely screwing it up otherwise.”
“I brought you guys out some sunscreen,” I said, holding out the tube towards Conrad. I knew he would have forgotten; usually that wasn’t a big deal because while I tended to get burnt tomato-red, he tended to tan which just added to his general good looks. But it looked like it was going to be a real scorcher, and if he was going to hang out with his shirt off all afternoon in this sun he’d be regretting it later.
“Thanks,” he said, grabbing the sunscreen tube from me. He squeezed out a generous quantity and started rubbing it all over his arms and his chest. “You want some too?” he asked Freddie.
“Sure, hit me,” Freddie replied. Conrad threw him the tube and he started putting it on.
“Freddie’s going to use the old fence palings to make a veggie garden,” Conrad told me as he covered himself with sunscreen..
“You garden too?” I asked Freddie.
“Yeah. Well, I want to. I lived in an apartment before this,” he told me. “So I can’t wait to start growing my own stuff. And besides, who needs all this lawn? Most pointless crop in the world. I’ll do a bit of landscaping first though.”
“How’s the plastering going?” Conrad asked me.
I shrugged. “Slowly. It seems I’m not as good at it as I thought.”
“Hey Conrad,” Freddie said, “Can you get my back?” He handed Conrad the sunscreen and turned to face away from him.
“Sure.” Conrad squeezed out some sunscreen onto Freddie’s back, just between the shoulder-blades, and started to spread it out. Carefully he rubbed it into every bit of skin, and I watched far-to-attentively, awkwardly silent, as his hand passed over each of Freddie’s muscles from his thick neck down to where the valley of his spine met the waistband of his shorts.
“Thanks, mate. Now let me do you.”
The two of them turned one-eighty, Conrad handing over the tube. Freddie slapped a wad of sunscreen onto Conrad’s back and started rubbing it in. It was like a massage — long, firm strokes across his back — he let out a long, slow breath and I could see him visibly start to relax into it. I wasn’t totally sure, but I thought I also saw the bulge in his shorts grow just a bit. As Freddie’s hands got lower and lower towards the base of Conrad’s spine I found myself willing him to go a bit lower, beneath the waistband.
Freddie finished and with a, “Heads up,” threw the sunscreen back to me. I realised that I’d been holding my own breath in some kind of weird suspense the entire time. I let the breath out and grabbed for the tube, but fumbled it and let it drop onto the grass. I bent, picked it up, and with a flustered, “Okay, see you in a bit, have fun,” I hurried back into the house, feeling a little embarrassed about just how horny that exchange had gotten me.
I figured I should get back to my own jobs, but I had a sudden urge to knock one out. So I figured maybe I’d just spend a few quiet minutes alone in my room with my laptop before I got back into my plastering.
The book will be available at all the usual retailers. Check out my website for links to buy, or buy it directly from my store: