I Saw Them Back There

by Ian on December 10, 2010

by Josh Olsen

Behind the camouflage of lilacs, I often sat in the backyard and lit a fire and got drunk and listened to Mulatu Astatke while my neighbors on the other side of the fence watched the Tigers or Red Wings.

They were usually drunk, too, and screamed at the television they brought out to their patio, and at commercial break they walked their dogs, two toy something or others, smaller than the neighborhood squirrels, to the fence line where they smoked cigars or talked on their cellphones while the dogs shat and yapped.

We were no more than three feet away from each other, yet we said nothing to one another.

We never shared a word, and I wondered if it was because they’d seen me masturbating in my office, where wide open, uncurtained windows exposed everyone and thing within its walls to both of our backyards.

I saw them back there, smoking cigars and talking on the phone, their dogs shitting and yapping.

My erection was in my hand and it only made me cum even harder.

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