Okay we admit it our neighbor is hot. Hot, like how? Late-thirties, craftsman, tall 6+, lean, square jaw, happy smile, blue eyes, great haircut, blond and brown spiky, strong hands with long fingers. He’s always in jeans and t-shirts, dusty with the labor of his craft. In the summer he never wears a shirt. He’s lick-able.

Imagination can be a wonderful thing. It may turn in many directions, from dangerous to delicious. With neighbor man we’ve had to keep it to ourselves. Okay, he’s divorced with a little girl he sees every other weekend and his wife left him for another guy who made more money. Plus she always hated us, the gay guys down the street. She could read our imaginations. Witch.

Our guy, let’s call him Ben, is dubious about his current “gal.” He may be questioning women as a whole/hole. They’ve burnt him, grabbed his heart out of his chest and ate it in front of him. I’d be bitter too. But would I be with a man? Two men? A couple? Would this couple who’ve not had an open relationship, by choice, open up theirs up to Ben.

It wasn’t supposed to happen. It was 6pm and we were finishing up projects. I was in the garage, #1 was at the computer furiously trying to finish a project. Dogs barked. There was a bang on the door. It was Ben. We’d been working on re-doing our kitchen and he’d offer to help. #1 answered the door in a t-shirt and a light blanket around his waist.

“Are you wearing a dress?” Ben asked.

“No, just no pants,” answered #1.

Ben laughed. It was his little joke with us. Since we worked out of the house we rarely wore pants, just what ever we could wrap around our waists.

“I just got back from vacation and thought I’d pop by.” Ben said laughing his way inside.

He was funny, checking out how his work was holding up, surveying the place we had made home. He just kept on smiling.

#1 offered Ben a drink. Like I’ve said Ben had done some jobs for us on our house. We knew that when the whistle blew Ben would sit down and party, and then some. I guess living a block away helped. I came in, with pants on. I always wore pants while gardening or working with power tools. I saw Ben and #1.

“Unexpected party!” I shouted out to Ben. Happy hour with Ben was a blast. He was the first straight guy who was open enough to let us flirt notoriously with him. Our conversations ranged from bringing up kids to cleaning house while watching porn.

After two and twenty vodkas and a 420 break Ben said, “Man I forgot to tell you.”

“What?”

“I just turned 40 last week.”

Now I know to some of you this may seem a huge jump in our conversation but that was the way it was with Ben – a trampoline.

“So one deserves a birthday spanking,” said #1.

“Got to pin me first!” Ben looked at us with that twinkle. Ben was a man-child. He would always be a grown up Peter Pan or Puck.

“One, two, three!” I shouted as #1 and I pounced. I grabbed Ben’s ankles and pulled him out of his chair. #1 sat on his chest, pinning his arms.

“Oh shit.” Ben knew us too well and was laughing at such