During the last several weeks, I might as well have been single. My girlfriend was coming home late almost every night, spending most of her time with the kid who lives next door. Deep down inside, I knew she wasn’t physically attracted anymore, the way she looked at our neighbor. He was a white guy in his early 20s, on the hefty side but not obese. He had an intimidating look, too. Anytime our eyes met, I quickly averted my eyes. For whatever reason, I felt inferior around this guy. I didn’t even know his name, and my girl had only referred to him as “Dougie“.
If My Girlfriend Saw the Kid Next Door as an Alpha Male, What Did She Think of Me?
Even though we were slowly drifting apart, my girlfriend and I shared a bed. I felt like more like her roommate then her boyfriend. She talked to me like I was one of the girls, instead of the guy she shared everything with. Whenever she talked about our big blonde-haired neighbor, her eyes would light up. She would really go into detail about various observations she made of him, particularly about his looks…it was like she was looking for flaws about him, but only finding pluses.
I don’t think our wigger neighbor had any respect for me or anyone else in the building. I would hear hip-hop music blasting from his apartment, smell weed coming out from the bottom of his door, and at times, could hear him fuck! Actually, it was the girl he was fucking I heard louder than him, to be more precise, the way she screamed his name and begged for his apparently huge cock. Anytime I heard bedsprings bouncing or headboards slamming against the wall, I knew what the kid next door was up to. I tried explaining these things to my girlfriend because whenever that girl was worshiping his big cock, my girlfriend was never around. I was hoping that by telling her our neighbor was fucking someone, my girlfriend would spend a little less time thinking about him, but whenever I talked about the things I heard coming out of his apartment, she seemed to blush.
One day while I was throwing out some garbage, I saw Dougie sitting in his Mustang. He had some sort of rap music playing with extra bass loudly in his car, inconveniencing everyone around him as usual. The big dude had his head cocked back, with one arm resting out the open window. His right hand looked like it was gripping something round, and whatever it was, it was bobbing up and down the crotch of his pants. I tried to take a closer look, but the kid opened his eyes and caught me staring. He raised his eyebrow at me, and just like that, I scurried away, back inside the building. There was something familiar about whatever Dougie was gripping in his car. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought it was the back of someone’s head.
My girlfriend came up about 20 minutes later, making a bee-line straight for the bathroom. I found it strange that her hair was all messed up from the back, as she normally took a lot of pride in its style. I made dinner for us both, eager to tell her about what I thought I saw inside our neighbor’s car. She came into the kitchen and kissed me on the cheek, the scent of toothpaste indicating that she had just brushed her teeth. As we made small talk, I found it odd that my girlfriend had brushed her teeth before we were about to eat a meal.
I came home from work the next day to find Dougie sitting in my apartment, on my couch, with his arm around my girl, sipping one of my beers. His legs were up on my coffee table, and the kid had dirty work boots still on. I could tell he had come straight from work, as I could smell a day’s worth of sweat from the front door. He clearly worked blue collar, as his shirt and jeans were just as dirty as his boots. In fact, he was getting my white couch dirty while getting mud all over my coffee table.
I tried to shake his hand as I kissed my girlfriend hello on the cheek, but Dougie wasn’t having it. He just looked at me like I was beneath him, like I wasn’t appreciating the honor of being around him. The arrogance of this kid, I thought. And yet, my sense of inferiority in his presence suddenly found its way back inside of me. I was nervous around him, and he could tell.
When I asked Dougie to remove his boots, he chuckled and told me that’s what I was there to do for him. I looked at my girlfriend, cuddled up under her neighbor’s arm, looking at me as if she was about to watch something go down. She was silent but wide-eyed. I knew I had stumbled onto some sort of moment and had no thought but endure whatever was about to happen to me.
With His Arm Around My Girl, My Neighbor Motioned for Me to Approach Him
Dougie motioned for me to come closer to him with his index finger. When I got close enough, he held out his big football-sized hand to stop me, then pointed to his dirty boots. Realizing his neck was probably hurting from staring up at me, I knelt and reached for his boots. My girlfriend whispered something into the big stocky wigger’s ear as I unlaced what were clearly size 13 work boots.
“Don’t look so surprised.” My neighbor quietly said into my girlfriend’s ear, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “These are just the perks of playing Spot the Fag.”
Spot the Fag?! Did my neighbor think I was gay, I wondered? Sure, I felt timid and meek in his presence, and there was no doubt how inferior he made me feel, without ever saying a word to me. Was the way I treated him something he was used to? Did he have others in his life who felt the way I did about him?
I suddenly remembered I was more concerned about what Dougie thought of me than about my girlfriend, who was cuddled up in another man’s arms, in my own home. My eyes went from his now-exposed feet to her beautiful eyes. Just as I was about to say something to her, I caught a whiff of the sweat coming from my big neighbor’s dirty white gym socks. I tried to pull my head back, but Dougie leaned in and gripped the back of my head with his right hand, pushing my face into his stinky white sweatsock.
My mouth was already open, and just like that, I was tasting the cotton of his dirty socks. I began to suffocate and gag on them, and with one yank of my hair, the kid let me come up for air. I was suddenly smacked hard on the cheek with his left hand before he released his grip and tossed me to the floor, leaning back onto my couch. The grip on the back of my head made me realize that the object he was holding when I saw him in his Mustang was someone’s head.
I’ll never forget the sound of my girlfriend’s laughter as our neighbor whipped his sweatsock off and placed his big size 13 foot directly on my face as if it was a coaster. It was at that moment that I realized I was about to officially be single. What girl would want to keep seeing a guy who’s lips and touched the bottom of another man’s foot?
From my peripheral vision, I saw the love of my life watching me in awe as my tongue licked between all Dougie’s toes, which he told me to do, “or else.”
Much to my surprise, my girlfriend did not break up with me when she finally addressed me. She did, however, lay out what the future would hold for the three of us, domestically.
“Sweetie, he’s getting evicted in a few days.” My girlfriend said, looking down at me.
“What does that mean?” I said, taking my mouth off the wigger’s big toe, my lips making a suction pop as they came off his skin.
“It means I’m moving in, dummy,” Dougie said as he gave me the finger, looking down at me with a smirk. “Now go get your shit outta the bedroom. I’ll be sleeping there with your girl from now on.”
I thought better of asking how much rent he would be contributing, or where I would be sleeping. Instead, I got off my knees and made my way towards my soon-to-be former bedroom.