Upstairs Neighbor, Dewey Shaver

Dewey Shaver lives above me and he is a New York Jew, 31 years old. Key grip by day, threepenny model at night. He wears tight Lucky jeans and tank tops when he washes his car in the courtyard driveway. Now that the weather has gotten nice, Dewey and I have Turtle Waxed our cars with our shirts off, wearing only our jeans and New Balance sneakers, and it always attracts the attention of passersby. The occupants of my building definitely have curb appeal. One day, he offered to help flush my radiator too, which saved me a couple bux. We did that with our shirts off too, but he's str8.

I'm surprisingly candid with him in our conversations, right down to the unpleasant little facts of life, and our mutual admiration for the TV Show of the same name. It is kind of fun to have a kinship with another man in a non-sexual way, and it is nice that he's closeby. I've never told him, but he sings Charlotte Rae better than Charlotte Rae can sing Charlotte Rae. Sometimes he pops out exuberant vocals in his kitchen and forgets the windows are open. He's hot and he can tell I look at him admiringly, and he knows that I know he enjoys it. His apartment layout is just like mine, right above mine. His bedroom is my bedroom. Sometimes he snores. His mattress isn't the best, but it does see a lot of activity, and sometimes the lightbulbs in my ceiling light fixtures blow when he has visitation rights with his 12 year old son Asher.

He has a pretty booming voice, so I've also heard him talking on the phone loudly. Occasionally, I hear him yelling into the phone. I figure it must be a woman he is yelling at, and the angry machismo in his voice really turns me on. I wonder if he'd be interested in a little Threepenny threeway.