Neighbor's Curiosity
Chapter 1
„What the hell is going on next door?" Scott muttered to himself, his eyes fixed on the handsome blonde man emerging from the house. The guy was tall, with broad shoulders and a confident stride that made Scott's heart skip a beat. But there was something off. Something wrong.
Scott had been in this neighborhood for barely six weeks, and already he’d seen at least 8 different men leave that house in the morning, only to return later in the evening. It was strange. Too strange. And now, curiosity—or maybe something darker, deeper—was gnawing at him like a restless beast.
But what if I’m overthinking it? Scott thought, trying to rationalize the situation. Maybe it’s just some kind of... fitness group? Therapy sessions? A rotating roommate situation?
The blonde man disappeared down the street, and Scott’s mind raced. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something unusual was happening behind those closed doors. His neighbor, the bearded guy who lived there — at least he was the one he saw most often — seemed normal enough at first glance. Friendly, even. But now, Scott wasn’t so sure.
“Screw it,” Scott whispered, his resolve hardening. He waited a few hours and the he grabbed his keys and stepped out onto the porch, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. The coast was clear. Heart pounding, he crossed the yard and approached the neighbor’s house.
The front door was unlocked.
How careless, Scott thought, though his unease was quickly overtaken by excitement. He slipped inside, closing the door softly behind him. The house was quiet, almost too quiet, as if it were waiting for him.
He moved cautiously through the living room, his eyes darting left and right. Nothing seemed out of place, but the air felt charged, electric. Then he noticed it—a door slightly ajar, leading to what must be a bedroom.
This is crazy, he thought, but his feet carried him forward anyway.
The bedroom was darker than the rest of the house, the curtains drawn shut. In the corner, a large cabinet caught his eye. It was ornate, old-fashioned, and slightly creepy in its grandeur. Curiosity won out over caution, and Scott approached it, his hands trembling as he swung open the doors.
What he found inside made his breath catch in his throat.
Row after row of male masks stared back at him, each one meticulously crafted, lifelike. Some were old, some young, and all of them bore expressions that ranged from neutral to downright sinister. There were also bodysuits—tight, muscular ones, slender ones, even a few that mimicked age or skin tone variations.
And then, right at the center, was a mask that made Scott’s heart stop.
His neighbor’s face stared back at him.
"No way," Scott whispered, his voice barely audible. He reached out, fingers brushing against the cold, smooth surface of the mask. It was identical to the bearded man who lived here, down to the smallest detail.
This isn’t real. This can’t be real.
But it was.
A surge of conflicting emotions washed over him—fear, fascination, and something else, something primal. His cock twitched in his pants, and he cursed under his breath.
I need to get out of here, he told himself, but his body had other plans. Without thinking, he grabbed the mask and a nearby muscular bodysuit. They weren’t heavy, but they felt oddly substantial in his hands.
He didn’t know why, but he needed to try them on.
Back at his own house, Scott locked the doors and drew the curtains, shutting out the world. He stripped down to nothing, his naked flesh prickling with anticipation. The latex lifelike bodysuit came next, slipping on smoothly despite its tight fit. It clung to him like a second skin, accentuating every curve and muscle. When he looked in the mirror, he barely recognized himself.
The transformation was stunning.
Finally, he placed the mask over his face, adjusting it until it sat perfectly. The edges were seamless, blending into his skin as if it were his own. He ran his hands over his new appearance, marveling at the texture, the detail.
"Wow," he whispered, his voice muffled slightly by the mask. It was uncanny how real it all felt.
A thought occurred to him, wild and impulsive: Can I fool anyone?
With the suit and mask on, he felt invincible, empowered. He grabbed a pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt from his closet, dressing quickly. The disguise was complete.
Scott stepped into the late afternoon, the cool air brushing against his synthetic skin. His heart raced as he walked to the local gay bar just down the street. The place wasn’t fancy, but it was lively, filled with people laughing and talking.
He hesitated at the entrance, glancing around to see if anyone looked familiar. No sign of his neighbor—good. He took a deep breath and pushed through the door, stepping into the dim light and noise.
Almost immediately, someone caught his eye.
A man sat at the bar, mid-thirties, with dark hair and sharp features. He was alone, nursing a drink, his expression distant. Scott swallowed hard, his mouth dry.
Just go talk to him, he told himself. You’ve got this.
But as he approached, his confidence wavered. What if he messed up? What if someone saw through the disguise?
Before he could overthink it, the man at the bar turned to look at him. Their eyes met, and Scott froze. „Hey Mike, i didn’t expect you to be here today“ the man said, his voice low and inviting. “You look like you could use a drink.”
Scott nodded slowly, forcing himself to smile. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice steady. “Thanks.”
As he slid onto the stool beside the man, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was exactly what his neighbor had done countless times before. Was this part of the game? The thrill?
Or is this something more?
Scott’s heart raced as the man at the bar slid closer, his dark eyes locking onto Scott’s. The air between them seemed to thicken, charged with a tension that Scott wasn’t sure he could entirely explain. Was it the thrill of the disguise? The alcohol loosening his inhibitions? Or was it something else entirely—something regarding his mask?
“You’re quiet tonight,” the man said, his voice smooth and low. He leaned in slightly, his shoulder brushing against Scott’s arm. “Something on your mind?”
Shit, Scott thought, I should say something. But the words caught in his throat. Instead, he tilted his head, letting the mask’s persona guide him. “Just taking it all in,” he replied, his voice steady, though his pulse quickened.
The man smirked, raising his glass in a toast before taking a sip. “Can’t blame you. This place has a way of making you think.” His gaze lingered, flickering down to Scott’s lips before returning to his eyes. “So, what’ have you been up to, tonight?”
Keep it together, Scott told himself. Don’t overthink it. The guy obviously knew him, the identity he was wearing at least: „just need a drink with a friend,” he said, the lie rolling off his tongue easily. “And you?”
“Rick is part of the inventory.“ the barkeeper responded from behind the counter. Rick laughed but left his gaze on Scott:. “I am happy to meet you today here, Mike,“ his tone casual but laced with an undercurrent of interest.
They exchanged small talk, the conversation flowing like water over rocks, punctuated by laughter and the clinking of glasses. Scott found himself relaxing, the initial nerves giving way to a strange sense of confidence. This is working, he thought, marveling at how seamlessly he’d slipped into this new identity.
Rick’s fingers brushed against Scott’s hand as they reached for their drinks, a subtle touch that sent a shiver up Scott’s spine. “You’re different today,” Rick said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not like last time we met here.”
Scott swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. “Different how?”
Rick smiled, a slow, knowing curve of his lips. “You look… curious. Like you’ve got secrets.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against Scott’s ear. “And I think I want to know what they are.”
Before Scott could respond, a deep voice cut through the haze of flirtation. “Hello, Mike. How are you? I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
Scott froze, his body stiffening as he turned to find an older chunky bearded man in a leather jacket standing beside him. The man’s expression was friendly enough, but there was something in his eyes—a sharpness, a calculating gleam that made Scott’s stomach drop.
“Uh… hi,” Scott stammered, his mind racing. Who the hell is this?
The man chuckled, leaning in to hug Scott tightly. “It’s been too long, old friend.” His voice was warm, but when he pulled back, his eyes narrowed slightly. “You’ve been busy, haven’t you?”
Scott nodded uneasily, his heart pounding in his chest. “Yeah, just… life, you know.”
The man didn’t respond right away, instead studying Scott with an intensity that made the room feel smaller. Finally, he leaned in close, his lips brushing against Scott’s ear as he whispered, “I know you stole my face, Scott. Don’t play dumb. I have cameras in my house. Follow me quietly into the restroom, or things could get… unpleasant.”
Scott’s breath hitched, his body going rigid with fear and arousal all at once. He knows, his mind screamed. He knows.But even as panic surged through him, there was a flicker of something else—an electric thrill that coursed through his veins, igniting a fire in his core.
Without waiting for a response, the man turned and strode toward the restroom, his leather jacket creaking with each step. Scott glanced at Rick, whose expression was a mix of confusion and curiosity, then back at the restroom door. What choice do I have? he thought, pushing himself off the stool.
The restroom was dimly lit, the only sound the faint hum of the ventilation system. The man stood near the door, his hands resting on the edge as he waited. As Scott stepped inside, the door clicked shut behind him, sealing them in together.
The man’s eyes widened briefly before narrowing again, his jaw ticking with what looked like anger. “You really thought you could fool me? My own fucking mask?”
Scott swallowed, his mouth dry. “I… I didn’t mean—”
“Shut up,” the man snapped, stepping forward until Scott was pinned against the cold tile wall. “Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you’re in? Stealing from me? Who do you think you are?”
Scott shook his head, his breathing shallow. “I’m sorry, I just… I was curious. I wanted to see—”
“Curious?” the man repeated, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You’re lucky I don’t call the cops.” His hand moved to Scott’s chin, tilting his face upward. “But you know what? You’re not all bad. That mask and body suit fits you like it was made for you.”
Scott’s cheeks flushed, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. The man’s proximity was overwhelming, his cologne mingling with the scent of leather, creating a heady mix that made Scott’s knees weak.
“You like this, don’t you?” the man asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Being caught. Being exposed. Fucking stealing my face and parading around like you own it.”
Scott couldn’t deny it. Somewhere beneath the fear, beneath the shock, there was a raw, undeniable excitement coursing through him. “Yes,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.
The man’s lips curled into a sly smile, his fingers trailing down Scott’s neck, across his collarbone, and lower still. “Well, then,” he murmured, “let’s make this worth my while.”
Before Scott could process what was happening, the man’s hands moved quickly, ripping apart the T-Shirt and opening his jeans. The man pulled the jeans down and Scott didn’t resist. When the trousers fell to the ground the man’s lips were already on his, rough and demanding. The kiss was nothing like the lingering, almost hesitant ones he’d shared with Rick. This was dominance, pure and unapologetic, sending waves of heat crashing through Scott’s body. While kissing Scott
he was pulling at the zipper of the bodysuit. Scott gasped into the kiss as his erection pressed against the tight fabric, aching for release. “Please,” he begged, his voice breaking.
The man pulled back, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Turn around,” he commanded, and Scott obeyed without hesitation, his arousal overriding any sense of caution.
As Scott braced himself against the wall, the man gripped his shoulders with bruising force, his touch leaving no room for doubt about who was in control. The sound of the bodysuit being pulled down sent a shiver through Scott’s entire body, a tight, restrictive layer was removed that only heightened his sensitivity. and then finall he felt it: the blunt pressure of the man’s cock against him, ready and relentless, covered in precum. Somehow he had managed to open also his own jeans before.
The man’s hands tightened on Scott’s hips, his grip almost painful, but Scott didn’t care. All he could focus on was the way the older man’s body pressed into him, the heat of his arousal building up, the bodysuit still clinging to Scott’s legs. The zipper had somehow opened more then the suit.
“You like this, don’t you?” the man growled, his voice low and deep, vibrating against Scott’s ear as he leaned in close. “You like being taken like this. No questions, no hesitation. Just surrender.”
Scott nodded, his breath coming in shallow gasps. His mind was spinning, fogged by desire and the heady rush of submission. He wanted this—wanted him—more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. The man’s dominance was intoxicating, his every touch sending electric shocks through Scott’s veins.
“Yes,” Scott whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of their harsh breathing. “Please… yes.”
The man smirked, his lips curving into a wicked grin as he slid a hand up Scott’s back, fingers tracing the curve of his spine. “Good boy,” he murmured, punctuating the words with a sharp slap to Scott’s ass that made him cry out. “Now hold still.”
He positioned himself again, and this time there was no hesitation. Scott felt the blunt head of the man’s cock pressing against him, slick with precum, and then—finally—he was inside. The sensation was overwhelming, intense, and Scott’s knees buckled slightly as he struggled to stay upright. The man didn’t give him a chance to adjust, thrusting forward with brutal force, driving deep into him.
Scott clenched his fists against the wall, his entire body trembling as the man took him with reckless abandon. Each thrust was hard and unrelenting, sending jolts of pleasure-pain rippling through him. He could feel the bodysuit tangled around his feet, the fabric scraping against his skin with every movement, and the mask still clung to his face, its weight oddly comforting despite the situation.
“You’re mine,” the man snarled, his voice dripping with authority. “Every inch of you. You understand that?”
Scott nodded again, his vision blurring as waves of pleasure crashed over him. “Yes… I’m yours,” he gasped, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. The man grabbed his hair with one hand and pulled hard. The mask was stretched out and the features were distorted.
The man chuckled and moaned darkly, his grip on Scott’s hips tightening afterwards even more. “That’s what I thought,” he said, punctuating the words with another deep thrust. “You’re good at taking orders. Too bad you’re such a little thief.”
Scott’s eyes snapped open, confusion flooding his thoughts. “What?” he managed to choke out, his voice trembling.
The man paused for a moment, pulling back just enough to look Scott in the eye. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?” he said, his tone cold and mocking. “You were stealing one of my masks. One of my suits. Do you have any idea in how many places I’ve been with it? How many people I’ve fucked with this mask on?”
Scott’s heart skipped a beat, panic surging through him. He hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected the man to call him out so explicitly. But before he could respond, the man grabbed both ears of the mask with both hands, his fingers digging deep into the rubber.
“Let’s see who we’re dealing with, shall we?” the man murmured, his voice dripping with menace.
Scott tried to pull away, but it was useless. The man’s strength far outmatched his own, and within seconds the mask was being lifted off his face. The cool air hit his cheeks, and Scott’s stomach churned with a mix of fear and humiliation. He wasn’t Mike anymore—not in this moment. He was just some guy, caught red-handed, about to be exposed.
But the man didn’t seem interested in his identity. Instead, he held the mask up in front of Scott’s face, his eyes gleaming with something dark and dangerous. “You stole this from me,” he said, his voice low and deadly. “And now you’re going to pay for it.”
Before Scott could react, the man slammed into him again, harder this time, driving the breath out of his lungs. Scott cried out, his voice echoing off the tiled walls of the restroom, and then everything blurred together in a haze of pain and pleasure. The man assaulted him relentlessly, each thrust pushing Scott closer to the edge. He took the mask to his lips and pressed his tongue into the mouth hole. He licked off Scott’s remains, his sweat and his odor.
“Come for me,” the man commanded, his voice thick with lust. “Do it now.”
Scott couldn’t resist. He was already teetering on the brink, and the man’s demand sent him spiraling over the edge. He came with a strangled cry, his orgasm flooding through him as the man continued to pound into him. And then, a moment later, the man followed, his muscles tensing as he emptied himself inside Scott.
For a long moment, they stayed like that, the man buried deep inside Scott, both of them panting heavily. And then, slowly, the man withdrew, his movements calm and deliberate. He stepped back, allowing Scott to sink to his knees, the bodysuit still tangled around his feet.
The man crouched down in front of Scott, his expression unreadable. “You’re lucky I enjoyed that,” he said, his voice quiet but laced with danger. “Next time, I won’t be so forgiving.”
Scott looked up at him, his heart pounding in his chest. “Who… who are you?” he whispered, his voice trembling.
The man smiled faintly, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. “Look up,” he said, his tone suddenly gentle. “I’ll show you.”
Scott hesitated, but the urgency in the man’s voice—and the promise of answers—was too strong to ignore. He looked up, facing the mirror above the sink, and watched as the man reached up to his own mask.
With deliberate precision, the man pried the edges of the mask free at his throat, his fingers working patiently until it came loose. He inserted his fingers into the seam on both sides of his chin. He pushed them under the mask. The features stretched and the eyehole became empty. Scott’s breath caught in his throat as the mask was lifted away, revealing the man’s true face.
It wasn’t the rugged, bearded visage Scott had expected. Instead, the man standing behind him had a handsome, angular face with blonde hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His brown eyes shone with a mixture of triumph and something softer—something almost kind.
“George,” the man said, his voice smooth and calm. “My name’s George.” „I think I should invite you more into my house. We could have a lot of fun.“
to be continued…
