The mystery man was Jacob

Like a zombie I got up from my seat and went to grab my coat. My mind seemed to have been fried from the revelation that not only was I found out, but my nearly obese neighbor was blackmailing me. That was just too much to take in within only 5 minutes.

Standing in front the door I almost couldn't be bothered to check if my coat was covering most of my stocking clad legs but decided that more exposure certainly wouldn't be the answer. With the hood in my pocket and lead in my shoes I walked to the neighboring house.

The door was already slightly open, so I just stepped in and closed it behind me. The hallways was surprisingly dark with the door shut and stank of cigarettes. The smell was horrid, but I had to push on and walked on. The doors in the hallway were all shut, except for one. There was light there, but I couldn't tell if it was one of those very old lamps that was very yellow instead of white or that the walls were just that dirty. Jacob probably had to be there.

The first thing I noticed was the massive smoke cloud hanging in the room, the result of indoor smoking and a refusal to open a window every now and then. The second thing I noticed was the large frame of Jacob sitting on a chair in front of a desk, with a computer screen showing the same site I had been frequenting for a while now. He wasn't wearing his shirt anymore, showing of his chest hair and the large belly underneath.

His eyes seemed to be glued the screen, or he had simply chosen not to acknowledge my arrival. Between his lips dangled another one cigarette, and I could see an ashtray filled to the brim on the desk in front of him.

That explains the stench at least.

In no hurry to start this confrontation I let my eyes wander over the room. It was clean, I guess. No stacks of newspapers or piles of dirty clothes. Aside from the desk, chair and a closed wardrobe there was a bed and nothing else. The bed had black, slightly shiny sheets on them.

Silk? I wondered. Not something I would associate with a slob, but maybe my dislike for tobacco had clouded my judgement.

"You have arrived. About damn time." Jacob suddenly spoke, turning his chair towards me as he put out the remains of his cigarette.

I was completely frozen, staring with wide open eyes at his crotch. When I came in I hadn't noticed, but his cock and balls were hanging out of his trackpants. Jacob was big. It must have been slightly shorter than my dildo at home, but it was much, much thicker. He was uncut, the head was poking out of the skin slightly. Does this mean he is half hard or soft? Underneath his member his sack was saggy and I could see both balls individually. My sack always was more like a tight pouch, even when it was very warm.

Despite my horrid situation my sissy fetish was getting the best of me, causing me to carefully examine his big dick. Realizing this, I bit my tongue. This is fucked up. What is wrong with me?