Freitag, 31. Januar 2014

The best business trip

Jerry was in his late fifties, a little under 6 feet tall, about 250
pounds, with beautiful neatly trimmed white hair that made you want to
run your fingers through....massaging until you hear him moan in

He was an executive in the company I worked for and I lusted after him
every time he walked past my office.

He was married. He had grown kids and even grandkids. He was definitely
off-limits. Then...he walked into my office and asked if I'd be
interested in joining him on a visit to a customer. The customer was a 4
hour drive away from the office. I agreed. Why not?

As we drove together for 4 hours, we talked. He asked about my life and
my family. He told me about his. He told me his wife had suffered a
stroke a few years ago and she was numb on one side. In lighter moments,
he joked and laughed and patted my leg as he did. I loved every time he
touched me. I hoped he didn't see the erection I got from just being
near him.

We arrived at the hotel and he went to the front desk to take care of
details. He came back to me and said, "It looks like they messed up the
reservation. I hope you don't mind sharing a room." I did not mind at
all! I was hoping just to get a glimpse of this sexy mature man naked.

We went up to our room. It had 2 beds. I chose one. He took the other.
As I was unpacking my suitcase, he asked, "I am really tired from the
drive. I need a swim before dinner. How about you?"

I agreed to go for a swim and began to undress. He sat on his bed.

I noticed he was watching me. I didn't know what to do. Then, he said,
"Wow. You have a nice sized one. I wish mine was that big."

My cock is about 6 inches and nothing special but it was nice to hear
him say that.

"Thanks." I said as I stood there naked, not ready to put my swim trunks

"Can I take a closer look at that," he asked. I was ready to faint! I
couldn't believe he was asking this!

"Sure," I said, and I walked over to where he was sitting on the hotel

He took me in his hand, gently cupping my balls and then stroking my
shaft softly.

After a few moments, he asked quietly, "Can I suck you?"

"Yes, " I replied softly.

He took me in his mouth and softly and gently massaged me with his
tongue. He was wet and warm and amazingly gentle. I exploded in his

He smiled at me and said, "Let's go hit that pool now."

We had dinner. I was completely in shock at what had happened. He was
amazing. I had no idea he was interested in me all those months I had
sat in my office hoping he'd just walk by my door.

That evening, I laid in my bed. He pulled my covers back and crawled in
too. He kissed my chest and stomach and public hair and then took me in
his mouth again. He sucked and sucked until I exploded again. He patted
me on the behind and went back to his own bed.

He looked over at me and asked, "What time would you like to get up?" I
said, "About 7." He said, "Okay, I'll take care of it."

I awoke in the middle of the night to a warm, wonderful sensation. It
was 2:54 a.m. Jerry was in my bed, kneeling over me, sucking me again.
After a wonderful while, I exploded in his mouth again. He patted me on
the butt again, smiled, and said, "See you in the morning."

I awoke again. There was that wonderful wet feeling again. Jerry was in
my bed again. My cock was in the mouth of that sexy, white haired mature
man again. He sucked and sucked until I exploded again. He smiled again
and patted me on the butt again. "Let's get a shower," he said.

We showered together, washing every inch of each other's bodies,
exploring and enjoying. I sucked him in the shower. He was about 4
inches long and hard as a rock. He came in my mouth with a loud sigh.

We dried each other off and got dressed for our meeting with our client.

We drove back home occasionally holding hands in the car.

When we got back to the office, it was as if nothing had ever happened.
Jerry went back to being an executive husband, father and grandfather.

Now though, he smiles at me as he passes my office, and I remember that
fantastic trip when my dreams came true.

Maybe it'll happen again? I hope so.

Mittwoch, 29. Januar 2014

Just like old times

Written by timmywells

The bed I'm resting on is every bit as lumpy as I remembered it from back in late Spring, but that's okay by me because I wasn't interested in sleeping anyway. Besides it's muggy despite the window being open, and my grandparents house doesn't have air conditioning.

Chances are even if the old farmhouse had AC, my grandmother probably wouldn't turn it on. I could just imagine her ranting and raving to my grandfather about the cost of electricity to use something like an air conditioner, since she throws a bit if he has the nerve to turn on a fan to cool the place.

It's not like they're hurting for money, because they seem to be doing fine, and I remember one time seeing a financial statement from my Grandpa's retirement fund which suggested that were doing a whole lot more than okay.

"It's just her way," I remember Grandpa telling me once, during one of our late night chats. "She wasn't always like this, Marc. It's just that sometimes when you get old..."

I didn't argue with Grandpa, but frankly I didn't remember her ever being much different, and I spent a lot of time around their house over my 19 years. I do know it's gotten worse in recent times, and I suspect she might be starting to lose it a bit, even though she's only 67.

"That's what I get for marrying an older woman," Grandpa said once, although she's only 4 months older than him.

The thing is that he doesn't act it. He's retired, but he's still an active guy who I have to struggle to keep up with whenever we do things like taking hikes. Grandma, on the other hand, spends her days sitting around and complaining about aches and pains that may or may not exist.

I know it sounds like I don't love my Grandma, and that may be partly true at times, but only because I hate the way that she treats him, belittling him and nagging at him every chance she gets. More than once I've asked him why he stays around and takes it, because I know that the affection part of their marriage ended years ago.

"When I said till death do we part, I meant it," Grandpa once told me, and while I know there's no way I could endure what he does, I admire the fact that he's a man of his word.

Obviously, I look up to my grandfather, because since my Dad passed away years ago, he's been like a father figure to me. He's taught me more than I ever learned at school, and even now heading into my sophomore year of college, if I need to know something, I go to Grandpa before Wikipedia.

I not only respect and admire my grandfather, I love him too. I love him in ways that you aren't really supposed to love your grandfather, and I think he feels the same way toward me. I know he feels shame and guilt about that, but I don't. Maybe it's a generational thing. I'm not sure.

It's fair to say that we have an unusual relationship. Incestuous would be an accurate term, although to me that sounds dirty and what we do isn't that. It's a sharing of love and affection, and for those expecting something way out there, our story isn't that. Not at all.

This is the second and last night of my visit, since I have to continue driving west tomorrow out to college. I'll return here again around the holidays, and then once more after school ends come next Spring. I might sneak out for a weekend in between, if things work out. If I could, I would be here all the time.

Last night - last night was like many nights have been around here of late, and I'm hoping that tonight brings more of the same. I guess I'm always afraid that maybe Grandpa's guilt might set in big time, but it hasn't, and it didn't last night.

I was in bed last night just like tonight, waiting. It's like waiting for Santa Claus back in the day, only Grandpa is real, and he never disappoints. The anticipation is so intense it's sometimes almost suffocating, but then I hear the light creaking of my bedroom door.

I was sleeping on my side, facing away from the door so I could savor the sight of the shadow on the wall. Grandpa's only about 5'10" and slender as a rail, but the shadow makes him look larger. Grandpa then moved into the room and closed the door behind him, with the turning of the bolt following.

The cat-like footsteps follow, and then Grandpa steps over to the side of the bed I'm facing. My eyes have adjusted to the darkness somewhat, but Grandpa's haven't, and it takes him a second to realize that the sheet is pulled down already. After he figures that out, he gently climbs into bed facing me and eases closer.

"You awake, Marc?" Grandpa says, the minty toothpaste aroma arriving just after his words.

"Is the bear Catholic?" I reply, one of our frequent barbs, and we both giggle like school children being naughty.

We talked for a while, about generic stuff we had touched on earlier in the day when all four of us were together, and then we started talking about other things. Things I would never talk about with anybody other than Grandpa.

"You going to try and room with Greg this year?" Grandpa asked.

"No," I said, my hand reaching over and touching Grandpa's shoulder, and as I let it slide down to his chest I explained. "That didn't end up too well last semester, and the e-mails we've exchanged? Well, let's just say I forgive but don't forget."

Greg had been my roommate and my lover during my freshman year, and things had been good until I came back to our place after feeling ill in class and found him getting his dick sucked by some dude on the basketball team.

I had shared that news with no one besides Grandpa, because nobody else knows that I'm gay. Not Mom, who's oblivious to everything I do. Nobody except Grandpa. He knew I was gay - hell - I think he knew I was gay before I did.

"You're young," Grandpa told me back then. "Experiment. That's what youth is for. I suspect your Dad did, although I never pressed the issue, and I sure as heck did my share when I was your age."

Hearing that my father might have been bisexual was a little bit of a shock, but hearing Grandpa admit that he had a thing for guys back in the day was a real eye-opener, and made me feel less -I don't know - less queer, I guess.

"You'll find somebody quick enough," Grandpa assured me last night. "You're a good catch for somebody. Maybe the he might be a she, who knows?"

"Anything's possible," I said to Grandpa as my hand slid into the cloud of silver hair that covered his chest. "But I doubt it."

Doubt was not quite the word, because girls just did nothing for me sexually. I enjoyed them socially and had many close friends of the other gender, but when it came to being attracted to someone, I knew what I was.

The conversation stayed in that tone, but my hand was drifting lower. The slow and seductive thing worked with me for a while, but it had been a couple of months since Grandpa and I had been intimate, and my impatience was evident.

Down Grandpa's stomach my hand went until I hit the elastic of his boxer shorts. With a flick of my fingers the snap came undone, sounding like a clap of thunder in the quiet room, and then my hand slid into the nest of curls above his manhood.

I raked my fingers through the bush, working my way down until I reached the stump of his penis, and Grandpa was working the shorts down to give me better access. This was the way we did things, with me taking the initiative. Grandpa was much better at self-control than I was, and wasn't already sporting an erection at this point like I was.

I lifted Grandpa's penis up from the bedding, the tube warm and rubbery, and as he lay on his hip I began to slowly pull on his organ, imagining as always what his cock looked like.

Strange, isn't it? To have shared countless orgasms with someone and not know what his dick looks like? It's true. My only contact with his penis has been with my hands. That's not my idea, because if it was up to me, Grandpa and I would have done anything and everything two men could do to and with each other.

"I feel guilty enough as it is. I can't," Grandpa had insisted so many times that I've stopped pressing the issue, but not after making it clear that anything Grandpa wanted to do to and with me, I was more than ready for.

So it's my hand down there, gently pulling on the organ that I wouldn't recognize by sight. I know it's a lot like mine, slightly longer than average and a bit thinner than the norm. I can tell that Grandpa is not circumcised, while I am, and that's the only difference I can detect.

It takes me a few minutes to get Grandpa hard, but that's fine by me. I love the feel of his flaccid member in my hand, and it has an elastic quality that mine doesn't have, maybe because I seem to get hard whenever a hand even approaches.

I lean forward, nuzzling into Grandpa's shoulder while keeping the lower part of my body away from Grandpa because my cock is hard as steel and pointed right at him. He knows where to find me, and after he gets erect his hand will come.

Already Grandpa has the tube of Intensive Care lotion out, and I can smell the vanilla as he opens it. Then his hand comes down and joins mine. The lotion is applied and after his hands makes a few trips with mine his cock is now greased and I can feel it get longer, thicker and stiffer.

Grandpa takes a deep breath through his teeth as my hand starts sliding up and down a shaft that is starting to throb. I can feel his foreskin moving with my spinning hand, and now he's fully erect, his 67 years not affecting the close to 7 inches in my grasp.

In the murky darkness I see his arm move, and only then do I slide my hips closer to him. His fingers touch my bush, since I long since stopped wearing anything to bed up here. Now I groan as his weathered fingers, slick with lotion, find my cock. His hand moves slowly because he knows that compared to him I am so immature, so unable to restrain myself.

"Just like old times," Grandpa whispers as he takes the words right out of my mouth, and now we're together, next to each other, face to face, our bodies touching, and then our hands do this ballet of sorts.

This was new to me when Grandpa introduced it to me, and I thought that this was only the prelude to everything else. Our cocks are pressed together; with mine on top, the head of mine pushing into Grandpa's pubic hair, and Grandpa's prong below, with his glans prodding the area between my cock and balls.

Our hands, slick with lotion, move as one, spinning up and down the lengths of our members, squeezing them together while we gently grind into each other as our breathing gets heavier.

Grandpa once referred to what we do as frottage, but there's a lot more to it than two guys rubbing their dicks together. It's our hands and our hips and our hearts as well. We move slowly as one while nibbling into each others necks.

Grandpa can tell when I'm getting close to losing it, and he slows and lightens his grip until I get back in control. I think Grandpa could probably do this all night, and that's when I most wish we went beyond this.

In my fantasy I picture him mounting me, slowly probing me with this long and beautiful cock, and only cumming when he senses I've had enough. That was probably the way he was with Grandma back when they were really married, the master craftsman in the art of making love, bringing her to countless orgasms until filling her with the seed that would help build our family.

How long does this last? Never long enough although last night I managed to hold off for about 20 minutes I guess, before I finally whispered that I couldn't hold back much longer, and like he hit a switch Grandpa started breathing heavier and thrusting into me harder.

I started cumming, blasting my lead into his pubic hair, and as my spurts continued I heard Grandpa make this sound he usually makes. Our hands are now clutching the mass of manhood like a vice, and then I feel Grandpa's seed landing on my balls.

"I love you, Grandpa," I sob, and there's tears coming out of my eyes. I won't deny it, because I'm an emotional kind of guy and I love this man so much.

We were both still huffing and puffing, and even though we both stopped cumming we continued squeezing our deflating dicks together with hands that are dripping with a cocktail of lotion and cum.

Our hands don't stop, although it's tougher to keep hold of us limp, but since we seem to not lose much size after ejaculating we manage to go on, mainly because it feels so good. That's not the only reason.

Sometimes, like last night, I'm not done. When it's been a couple of months since I've seen Grandpa, I'm kind of excited. I usually manage to avoid jerking off in the days before my visit, so by the time we get together, I'm - like Grandpa is fond of saying - like a bull in heat.

So last night, as we cuddled while pulling on our cocks, I start to feel myself come back to life, and soon it becomes apparent to Grandpa too. He usually says something like, "You rascal!" at that point, or pretends to be annoyed.

It's all an act of course. Many is the time he's said that he enjoys my orgasms vicariously through me, and it's the only time he ever wishes he was 50 years younger so he could keep up.

So then our hands were jacking off one limp cock and one stiff one. There's no need for me to delay the next orgasm, so I don't. Like usual, this time I'm grinding into Grandpa hard, my leg going up on of his, and Grandpa is whispering, "Cum for me Marc. Cum good for Grandpa."

I do, and while it's not as intense as the first orgasm, both because the edge is off for me but also because we aren't cumming together, it's still good. Our hands relax and then fall off. Our bodies are still together, but now the two dicks are dead, with Grandpa's seed drying on my balls and mine turning Grandpa's pubes into a crusty and bizarre sculpture, I'm sure.

At that point, last night, I fell asleep in Grandpa's arms. Suddenly, his comforting arms somehow make the lumps in the bed disappear, and when I wake up it's morning and he's gone. He sneaks out while I sleep, for obvious reasons.

But that was last night, and now here I am in bed. It's getting a little late. Later than usual, and sometimes I fear that maybe he fell asleep or that dreaded guilt set in.

I also think - hope - pray - that tonight Grandpa will say the words I want to hear, and that the things I've always wanted Grandpa to do to and with me happen. I can dream.

Now though, there's a creaking of the floor boards out in the hall, and now the door is opening. The shadow on the wall appears and then disappears, and then door is bolted and the footsteps come to the side of the bed.

"You awake, Marc?" Grandpa says after climbing in next to me.

"Is the bear Catholic?" I respond, and we giggle, and everything is right in our world.

Montag, 27. Januar 2014

Grandpa's Toy

"I'm sorry," I said sheepishly when I noticed that my grandfather was standing in the doorway of Grandma's old sewing room, which had turned into a computer room after her arthritis made that hobby too uncomfortable.

"Not nice to snoop around, Andy," my grandfather said. "I'll bet you wouldn't want me looking through your things, would you?"

"No, you're right. I wouldn't," I said in what had to be the understatement of the year, because while I'm not all that crazy for an 18 year old in 2013, I imagine that it would freak out my poor old Grandpa.

Then again, what I was holding in my hands wasn't something that I would have expected finding in the drawer of Grandpa's computer desk, and it had to be his because it wasn't something that Grandma would have any use for.

"My toy. You know what that is, Andy?" Grandpa asked as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

"I think so," I said, looking down at the long clear plastic tube with a rubber bulb attached to the device. "You put your - you know - in there and when you squeeze the bulb it's supposed to make your thing bigger."

"Hard," Grandpa corrected. "It helps you get an erection."

"That's what I meant," I agreed, because I knew that if they actually did really increase the size of your dick I would have bought one long ago.

"When you get old," Grandpa said, taking the device from my hands and looking at it. "Let's just say that it isn't as easy to perform as it is when you're a teenager, so when me and your Grandma wanted to - you know - we would use that to get me ready."

I nodded, hoping that I would never need to use one, but the thought of Grandpa and Grandma getting it on was interesting to me.

"Of course these days, Grandma, she's not interested in that sort of thing any more, which is why it's in here," Grandpa continued. "As for me, well, let's just say that I still am, and that's why it's in here. I come in here and play around on the Internet."

"Probably more information that you wanted about your Grandpa, isn't it?" he asked, and I shrugged my shoulders. "I have to admit that when I first started - what do they call it - swimming on the Internet?"

"Surfing," I said with a smile. "Surfing the Net."

"That's it, surfing," he repeated as he patted my shoulders. "But then again I'm sure that you know all about - oh there. I guess you do."

Grandpa had reached over and touched the mouse, and when he did the screen saver disappeared and what I had been looking at before being distracted by the penis pump appeared back on the screen. I lurched at the keyboard and got rid of the image, hoping that Grandpa hadn't seen what I was looking at.

"It's okay Andy. I'm not as square as your mother," Grandpa said. "I'm a guy too, you know."

He was probably right about that square part, although the reason that I had been sent to visit my grandparents for a couple of weeks, at least in part, was that so Mom could fuck her new boyfriend without fear of me hearing them.

"You want to try it out?" Grandpa asked. "I mean, I know you don't have the problem that I do, but I've found that if you use it after you get aroused, well let's just say that while it isn't as good as the real thing, it isn't bad."

"Uh, I don't think so," I said.

"It's clean, if that's what you're worried about," Grandpa assured me.

"No, that's not it," I said, but the more I looked at it the more interested I got. "Maybe before I leave."

"No time like the present," Grandpa said. "Go ahead."


"Why not?"

"What if Grandma..."

"Those pills knock her out, and besides, she's afraid of the computer," Grandpa said with a chuckle. "Here, you'll need this too."

Grandpa handed me a half empty tube of some kind of lubricant, and there I was, sitting in front of Grandpa's computer with a penis pump and gel. Not something that had ever crossed my mind, to be sure.

"I can't. Not in here..." I said, but before I could finish my thought about not being able to to do something like that in front of my grandfather he cut me off.

"We'll go to your room then Andy," Grandpa said, and the next thing I knew we were heading down to the guest room at the far end of the hall.


"Make yourself comfortable," Grandpa said as he brought me over to my bed, turned on the light to a low setting and sat next to the bed.

"Grandpa," I said. "I can't."

"That website you were looking at," Grandpa said, putting his hand on my knee. "You like that one, don't you? I noticed that you've visited that everyday this week."

I felt like crawling into a hole, never thinking that my grandfather would know how to check history on the computer. The fact that the website was called Daddies and Twinks was humiliating, because even though my own old man had been gone for years, Grandpa was a daddy, my Mom's, and now he knew a whole lot more about me in a number of ways than he did before.

"It's alright Andy," Grandpa said, squeezing my knee while my face probably turned beet red, judging by the way it felt. "It's an interesting website. I wasn't aware of that one. I'll show you a couple that I think you might enjoy as well. Told you I'm not that square. You see, up until recently I had - a friend. He passed a few months ago. We used to - keep each other company."

"You?" I said incredulously, the thought of this ultra straight appearing man with another guy beyond belief.

"Go ahead Andy," Grandpa said, nodding. "I'd like to watch you use my toy."


"Kinda nervous," I said apologetically after I pulled my pajama bottoms down and pulled on my dick, which in fright was retreating into my intestines like a turtle into his shell, and while the device was designed to produce an erection my dick had shriveled up so much that I couldn't get it to the rubber nozzle.

"It gets bigger," I said in self defense after trying to put my little nub in the nozzle.

"I know that," Grandpa said. "When you first got here, I accidentally happened to catch a glimpse of you while you were drying off after your shower. Anyway, let's just as that I found out that Grandma's cute little Andy - well, you're still cute but you sure aren't little anymore."

"Oh gee," I said, and while I felt weird learning that Grandpa had seen me naked, there was something else about that which was ever more weird. "But how did you see me? I always lock the door."

"Maybe the part about it being an accident was a bit of a fib," Grandpa said with a wink thrown in, and while I didn't really understand, something else crossed my mind."

"Did Grandma see me too?"

"Heavens no," Grandpa chuckled. "She's not nearly as curious about things like that as I am."

"Relax," Grandpa said calmly as he squirted a little gel into his hand, and after a brief hesitation reached over toward me. "Here."

My grandfather sat next to me on the edge of the bed, and I was looking down when his long bony fingers took my timid dick and began to pull on it slowly, while I tried to relax.

Grandpa's hand - it was a lot like my science teacher Mr. Arthur's - and he was reassuring me just like my teacher had that day. Just like that day, my dick started to respond, and when it began to look respectable Grandpa helped me put it in the nozzle.

"Ooh!" I groaned after I pumped the bulb a few times fast.

"Here, let me," Grandpa said, taking the bulb away from me and telling me to just hold the tube against myself. "It's better when you take your time. I've had a lot of practice. Take your top off and enjoy."

If poor Grandma ever did come down here and saw this, me naked with a penis pump on and her husband in his pajamas squeezing the pump device slowly, that would have done her in. Thankfully Grandpa had locked the door.

"Works fast, doesn't it?" Grandpa said as he looked at my erection through the plastic.

"Yeah," I grunted. "Wish it did make you bigger though."

"Nonsense," Grandpa scoffed. "You've got a beautiful cock. Matter-of-fact, except for the fact that my friend wasn't circumcised like you, you're the spitting image of him."


"That, and the fact that the hair around his was gray," Grandpa said, running his fingers through the tuft of brown curls above my dick.

"You and him did this?"

"That, and other things," Grandpa said, his eyes getting a little watery as he thought of his late friend. "He had lost his wife and I - well, let's just say we needed each other."

"I think that's nice," I said, adding, "not as nice as this thing is though."

"You like this, Andy?" Grandpa said with a smile. "Bet you'd like me to go faster, wouldn't you?"


"Patience," he smiled. "So, I know you had a girlfriend a while back. Does your mother know you like boys too?"

"I don't think so, but I don't really like boys," I said as sweat began rolling off me. "I mean, I fooled around with a classmate of mine, but it wasn't as good for me as the other times."

"The other times?"

"Yeah, the other two guys were guys. You know, men."

"Older fellows?" Grandpa asked, and I nodded.

"Lucky guys," Grandpa said as he continued to use the pump like a conductor, bringing me to the point of orgasm several times before backing down again, and when I looked into the tube it actually looked like it was making me bigger than my 5" or so. "Open your thighs a bit."

I did as Grandpa asked, and after I did his free hand reached down and began playing with my balls.

"Not fair," I grunted as he squeezed and kneaded my sac.

"You've suffered enough I think Andy," Grandpa said, and this time when I neared orgasm he didn't stop.

As orgasms go, it was a lot better than average, and that toy milked me good judging by the amount of semen that sprayed on the walls of the plastic tube. Grandpa kept pumping until my withered dick slipped out of the nozzle, and only then did he stop.

"Oh man," I sighed. "That was awesome."

"I enjoyed it as much as you did, Andy," Grandpa said, and as he rose from the bed I saw the tent in his pajama bottoms. "I was wondering if you would mind..."


"No need to clean it out good," Grandpa said after I wiped the inside out a bit, and I almost dropped the toy when Grandpa stepped out of his pajama bottoms and I saw his cock swaying in front of him at half mast.

"Holy shit," I mumbled when I saw Grandpa's tan uncut cock waving in the air, and it only got longer as he smeared gel on the monstrous organ.

The head of his manhood looked as big as a plum under the long hood, and although I had only seen two other erect cocks in person in my 18 years, Grandpa's was the biggest. I was used to being the little guy when I was with others, but never by such a wide margin, and Grandpa wasn't even fully hard yet, or so it seemed.

"Here we go," Grandpa said as he got into position on the bed, and he had to push his cock through the rubber sleeve to get it inside. "You do the honors."

I couldn't see very well because the sweat that streamed down my face and into my eyes burned like crazy, but I kept wiping my forehead with my free hand while I pumped the bulb.

"This might take a while," Grandpa warned me as he watched me kneeling beside him, but I was too fixed on his cock in the plastic tube to notice much else. "That's what happens when you get old, so if you get tired..."

"I'm okay," I insisted as Grandpa slowly got bigger and bigger in the toy, and when he changed positions and bent one knee, his balls slid down close to the sheets like eggs in an huge slingshot.

"So tell me, Andy. Tell me about the two men you where with. Grandpa likes a good story," he said while reaching over and putting hi hand on my thigh.

"Not much to tell," I said. "A man at the lake was in the room where you rinse off afterward, and he kept staring at me. When I got done we followed me, but before I got to our campsite he introduced himself and asked me if I wanted to have some fun."

"Did you?"

"Well, we had been up there for a couple of days and I was bored," I explained. "I didn't really know what he meant, but the next thing I knew I had my pants down and he was - you know?"

"Sucking your dick?"


"Did you like it?"

"I was scared at first, but then I started to enjoy it. Yeah. I liked it."

"And what did you do? Did you suck on him too?"

"No, not that time. I just jerked him off that time."

"That time? You mean you saw the man some more?"

"Every day we were up at that campground. The man said he was retired and his wife just liked to sit at the campsite and look at birds," I said. "So we met every evening."

"And he sucked your dick every day?"

"Sometimes 2 or 3 times a day," I confessed.

"And what did you do?"

"I - He talked me into sucking his cock," I admitted. "I wasn't good at it at all at first, but he was nice to me and gave advice, so by the end I guess I was going okay."

"Is that all your fellows did?" Grandpa asked, his hand running up and down my thigh while I kept pumping and sweating.

"We did something else," I said, but then I said I'd rather not talk about it. Grandpa however, wanted to hear it all, and besides, there was nothing I could tell him that he hadn't done himself.

"That last day, he said he wanted to do something special," I said reluctantly. "He was such a nice man that I couldn't say no."

"What happened?"

"He had me bend over - and then he - he put his finger in my bottom. He felt weird because his finger was greasy and I felt goofy touching my toes in the wood naked, but he kept telling me how cute I was, and how I had such a nice butt."

"You do Andy. Then what?"

"He had me bend over as far as I could, and then he took his finger out and..."

"Go ahead," Grandpa insisted. "It's okay. Did he put his cock in your ass?"


"Did you like it?"

"No. It hurt, and I tried not to cry but I couldn't help it. He was holding my hips and pounding into my bottom real hard."

"This man," Grandpa said, a bit out of breath. "Was he well endowed? Did the man have a big cock?"

"Yeah, I guess," I said, but then I looked inside the vessel and saw Grandpa cock looking ready to break the thing. "Not nearly as big as yours though. Yours is even bigger than those guys on the Internet. You want me to stop? It looks like your dick is too big for the tube. What if it breaks?"

"Don't stop," Grandpa said with urgency in his voice. "It hurt and you cried, but did he stop?"

"No, he kept grunting and thrusting," I explained. But after a while..."

"What, Andy?" Grandpa said, his eyes wild and bulging as he leaned up towards me.

"It started to feel good, and I noticed I was pushing back against him," I said. "By the end he had reached around and was jerking me off when he came. That really felt good - I came too when I felt his dick jerking inside of me and feeling his warm cum. Grandpa?"

For a second I thought Grandpa was having a heart-attack, until I realized that he was cumming, and I watched his seed drooling out of his cock into the vessel until he fell back on the bedding, drained in every way.

I kept pumping until Grandpa told me to stop, and then I lifted the device off of his tool, the fat hose flopping out like a dead snake after being drained.

"Thank you, Andy," Grandpa said as he started breathing normally again. "That was so good, and I think you liked it too."

Grandpa nodded toward my crotch, where my dick was hard again and curling up towards my stomach, and I guess I must have blushed after that.

"Can't have you all in distress like that," Grandpa said, and he told me to lay down where he had been. "How I miss being able to get hard again so fast like you."

Grandpa was holding my dick like it was some kind of treasure, and after he stroked it for a bit, he suggested that we could do something else.

"Our little secret, of course," he explained.

"Are you going to put your dick in my ass?" I asked while looking over at Grandpa kneeling at my hip, his limp cock hanging down to the bedding.

"Heavens no."

"You can, if you want," I said, even though the thought scared me more than excited me.

"You're very sweet, Andy, and if I could I probably would take you up on that." Grandpa explained. "But you see, I could never get hard enough without the device to penetrate you."

"Looked pretty hard back then a minute ago."

"But without the vacuum, I'm afraid that it's usually like this," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "It would be like trying to shove a bowl of jello through a keyhole, but there other things we can do if you like."

Grandpa bent over, my dick in his hand, and as his mouth slid down I groaned. So good. So much better than the other men, maybe because he was doing it with love, and just like he had with the pump, he brought me to the brink of climax many times before mercilessly letting me cum.

"That was incredible," I said after I came, and after a minute of us looking at the ceiling, I summoned up enough nerve to ask Grandpa whether I could reciprocate.

"Nothing will happen, Andy." Grandpa said. "Maybe tomorrow night."

"Can I just suck on it though?" I asked, not wanting to pass up the chance, even though I wanted sure I could get my mouth around it.

As it turned out, I was able to suck on it okay despite how fat it was, but it was hard to handle because it was so limp and squishy that it really was like jello, and because it was so long that only made it tougher.

"Told you," Grandpa when he saw that I was getting frustrated wrestling with his unruly snake, but I had an idea.

I pulled his flaccid cock back onto his stomach and started rubbing the palm of my hand up and down the underside of his cock, starting from the space between his balls and the base of his cock and pressing upward all the way to the tip before going back down.

"Where in the world did you come up with this?" Grandpa asked as I kept rubbing it, and the addition of some more lube even made it easier, as well as better for Grandpa.

"I dunno. Sometimes I hump the mattress and it feels good, so I wondered whether this would be good too. It feels like it's getting harder, Grandpa," I said while continuing to press hard.

"Feels good, Andy," Grandpa said as he began to breathe harder. "You can stop when you get tired, because I'm done for the night."

"Okay," I said, but I had no intention for stopping because it was fun, and soon I could actually feel like Grandpa was getting harder, if not all that much bigger like it had been in the tube.

When I would rub back down toward his balls, the head would slide out from under the retracting foreskin, and so I began to use my other hand to rub the purplish head when it was exposed too when it wasn't going down to squeeze his nuts.

"Andy!" Grandpa suddenly gasped, and as we watched, a little bit of cum oozed out of the tip of his cock. "I'm..."

I knew what was happening, so I bent down and started licking the cleft on the underside of the glans, and that forced a little more to drool out, and I kept licking the drooling tip until I felt Grandpa's tense body relax as he rubbed the back of my neck.

"I haven't had two orgasms in so long I can't remember," he exclaimed, and when I looked up his eyes were watery. "It wasn't much of an orgasm - or so you would think by that little puddle of spunk, but it felt so good. Thank you Andy."

"Thank you, Grandpa," I said, and we ended up hugging and laughing.

"This is going to be a fun vacation," I said while laying on top of Grandpa, burying my face in his hairy chest and feeling our cocks rubbing together.

"Andy?" Grandpa said, apparently becoming aware that what was rubbing up against his very drained manhood was alive and well. "You cannot be hard again."

"I can't help it. This is the most exciting night of my life," I said, unable to explain how great I felt rubbing our bodies together.

"Would you like me to take care of that for you?" Grandpa asked, but I had another idea.

"This is probably weird," I admitted when I started, but while Grandpa was smiling he wasn't laughing.

"Nothing is weird if it feels good, and I'm enjoying it too."

What I had done was to start to grind my cock into Grandpa's, pulling his back up so the underside of my dick was rubbing against his, much like my hand had, and the sensation was beyond description.

The feeling of our cocks and balls and pubic hair together drove me wild, and soon I was propped up on Grandpa with my hands holding me up over him. While this took away the nice sensation of his chest hair against my skin, it allowed me to put more pressure down below in an frantic attempt to get myself off.

"That's it Andy," Grandpa encouraged me, putting his hand up and my chest and playing with my nipples, occasionally using the backs of his fingers to wipe the sweat that was pouring from under my arms from the exertion. "Come for me, son."

After hanging on the edge for what seemed like forever, I finally came, spurting what was left in my balls all over Grandpa's unit while he, as he put it later, enjoyed watching my orgasm as much as I had having it.

"I think we better get to bed," Grandpa said, and as we climbed off the bed I had to laugh after seeing Grandpa's pubic hair loaded with my seed. "After I wash up."

"Want to take a shower together?" I suggested, but Grandpa waved his hand at me, thanking me but declining.

"The way you are, your pointer would be up and at it before we got done," he suggested, probably correctly. "Besides, you have another story to tell me about your other experience. Tomorrow's another night."

It was, and so was the night after that, and the night after that, and the...

Samstag, 25. Januar 2014

Car Job

My old car was giving me a fit! I'd already spent hundreds of dollars
trying to keep it running until after the first of the year, when
trade-ins are at their highest, but if I spent any more money on it,
I'd be better off fixing it right, and keeping it for another
year. So, off I went to my usual garage mechanic to get it tuned up,
and checked out for the oncoming cold months.

When I got to Jerry's, it was closed! No note on the door, no
nothing. I decided to take it to the auto department at King Klub,
instead. I'd never thought about them before, only buying what I
needed there, usually in the way of household supplies, since, like
most "buying clubs," they sold most things only in case lots.

I walked into the service bay, and was delightfully surprised to see
this gorgeous SilverFox behind the desk. His name patch said "Pete"
over the pocket. Thinning silver hair, nice bushy walrus mustache, and
piercing amber eyes, too light to be called hazel looked down at me
from his vantage point behind an elevated pulpit holding almost 6 feet
of parts catalogs and a big phone with dozens of buttons. I couldn't
tell his height, but noted wide shoulders and more than generous steel
grey chest hair threatening to billow out of his open collar.

"What can we do for you, sir?" His voice had that southern twang,
almost a rasp, from maybe too many years of smoking, but captivating
none the less. His smile showed whitely, displaying an almost too-even
set of what might be dentures, I decided.

"Need a tune-up, and maybe an oil change, and the tires rotated - got
a special going?" I'm well over six feet tall, but still had to look
up into those fascinating eyes.

"Yep, our winter tune-up package is $79.95, including a safety
inspection and topping off your antifreeze, if needed." "Sounds
good. Here's the keys." I handed them over, and filled out the work
order, as indicated, and signed by the "X" to authorize the work. He
promised to page me when the work was done, and invited me to enter
the store through the door behind him. I noticed the time, and asked
how late they worked, since it was getting close to four PM. I had no
ride home, and told him so.

"We're here 'til 6:30. You'll be done by then - guaranteed." I nodded
my thanks and started for the door, turning to catch a glimpse of his
backside. I saw he was on the short side, and the tall stool he sat on
held a generous pair of meaty buns, heavy thighs, and chunky calves
going into what must have been at least size twelve work shoes! I was
HOOKED, and bad! As I opened the door, I mouthed a silent prayer for
major car trouble, all my former plans and hopes for the car's
continued good health to be destroyed by the need to return again and
again for service. Whatever he was selling, I was buying....

I fumbled merchandise for over two and a half hours, no doubt giving
the store security people fits, wondering just when I was going to
actually steal something, so they could arrest me. I sat in the coffee
shop, sipping a diet soda for over an hour, daydreaming over my
SilverFox fantasy man, my cock getting hard, then soft, and hard again
by degrees as I wandering in my mind - in and out of bed, up and down
his hard, chunky body, over, around through his matted body hair,
around and under his generous nutsack, licking his big heavy balls,
suckling one, then the other in my mouth because I couldn't hope to
get both in at the same time. His groin smelled wonderfully of
man-musk, his silken scrotum shining darkly, the color and texture of
a wrinkled brown paper bag, each ball the size and shape of an old
fashioned oval brass door knob, like the kind my grandmother had all
throughout her house, when I was just a tiny toddler.

When my mind's eye followed my dream-tongue back up to his thick,
meaty cock shaft, I lazily traced the veins underneath, up the side
and over on top, imagining his deep, throaty moans of pleasure as I
laid down a smooth coating of spit everywhere I could go, ever closer
to the deep, purple bullet head, until I was forced to hurry that last
two inches to avoid losing the first of many drops of pre-cum starting
to leak from the slit. The sweet-salty tang caressed my taste buds,
and I gave in at last by quickly wetting my lips before engulfing the
whole head and starting the long trip down to the root, if I could
manage to take the whole length.

"Paging Mr. Prescott. Please return to automotive
service. Mr. Prescott to automotive service, please...." It was just
6:25, so I assumed the old bomb was good to go. I got up, filled my
cup one last time, to the coffee shop manager's obvious disapproval,
and walked slowly to the door I'd entered, stopping at the rest
room. Like all food vendors, they don't sell drinks, they only rent
them, and it was time to return what I'd drunk, or at least, most of

I entered the service bay, to find all the bustling mechanics gone,
and my car still up on the rack. Most of the lights were off, and
"Pete" was off his throne-stool, a very apologetic look on his
face. "I'm sorry, but we cracked your drain plug at the last minute,
and don't have that size in stock at the moment. Can you come back
first thing on the morning? All our parts suppliers closed at five,
but it'll be ready as soon as the first run arrives tomorrow."

"Er, I don't have a ride home; I live alone out in the country. Guess
I'll have to call a cab, or something...." I was stuck for real -
public transportation was nonexistent out where I lived. My neighbors
kept to themselves, since they seemed to resent my presence after I
bought the adjoining foreclosed farm, somehow blaming me for forcing
the foreclosure instead of blaming the bank, or the former owners for
failing to keep up the payments. What's worse, fixing up the place
only made it worse, rubbing my relative affluence in their faces. I
was hopelessly the city slicker trying to be something I wasn't, in
their eyes, at least. A new car would have almost been unforgivable,
I'd decided early on.

"No problem. I'll give you a ride, since it's our fault for the
delay. Where abouts in Pinkerton do you live?" He was looking at my
address on the work order. "I don't live too far from there, I
believe, maybe ten miles or so."

"Oh, about a mile this side, off Route 69. Know where that is?" I
smiled in spite of myself, at the unexpected play on words. "Sure do,"
he popped back, a little too quickly to be entirely innocent, I
thought. Hmm....

"OK, let's go. I need to lock up the rest of the way. Meet you at the
front door. Gray Bronco." He started to click light switches at the
panel by his desk. "Gotcha. Hope this doesn't make you too late for
dinner," I tossed over my shoulder as I headed out the door back into
the store. I didn't hear his reply, as I blended into the still noisy
hubbub of a busy store. I walked dreamily to the front door, my mind
taking off again, floating over a furry, stocky shape laying there on
my bed, glowing amber eyes boring holes in me, begging me to start all
over with my fantasy tongue bath, promising even more than before,
with his hot, drooling plum of a cockhead radiating heat furiously,
threatening to make me turn down the heat on this chilly,
near-winter's evening.

I got to the door, a shameless boner trapped inside my already tightly
stretched levis. Fortunately, my coat was long enough to cover most of
my crotch, hiding most of my woody from at least casual glances, I
hoped. He appeared promptly, pulling right up to the door, and leaned
way over to open the passenger door for me. I got in, doing my best to
appeal nonchalant, and belted myself up, as we rolled toward the exit.

He appeared to keep his eyes on the road, driving carefully, but
blending smoothly into traffic, heading out towards the country. We
didn't speak, but listened to his tape player - it was some older
country singer, maybe Willie Nelson, I thought. Minutes later, he
turned off the main highway toward Pinkerton, and I broke the silence.

"Look for a wrecked corn crib on the left. I'm the next left after
that. It's about, maybe three quarters of a mile after that.

"The old Blodgett place, huh?" was the reply. I agreed, telling him I
bought it at auction after the foreclosure, almost three years
ago. "Can't seem to get next to the neighbors," I offered. "They seem
to think I'm the cause of the Blodgetts losing their farm."

"Long time folks're like that. Makes no never mind, what you do. May
just never sink in, either." We'd turned off and were started up the
road toward the farmhouse. I'd recently tarred the road, and there was
little dust to cloud a bright, full moon night just beginning. I
reviewed the groceries in the house, and planned what I hoped would be
a feast for two.

"Thanks for the lift. I guess I'll have to make my own way in the
morning, but at least I didn't have to come home alone in the
dark. Can I offer you a cup of coffee, at least, for your troubles?
I'm sure your wife has dinner waiting on the table...."

"Uh, well, actually, I'm by myself at the moment, too. I'd like that
coffee just fine."

Now we're really getting somewhere, I thought. "I've got more than
enough for two, if you can see your way clear to stay for dinner. Got
some great single malt scotch for dessert, or a six-pack of Heineken's
if you're not a scotch man...."

We pulled up at the side door, with the automatic light coming on as
we approached. Tiny, as usual, charged the vehicle, barking furiously,
threatening to tear a tire off. Since he was a Welsh Corgi and stood,
oh, maybe eleven inches at the shoulder, there was no danger to the
car, anyway. Just to him. I opened the door and called him off. He
quieted considerably and came around to my side, greeting me joyously,
wagging his nonexistent tail. He was a Pembroke, as opposed to the
Cardigan variety. He looked like a German Shepherd turned into a
canine version of a bon sai, rather than the "setter-like" longhair
Cardigan configuration, with silky plumed tail.

I opened my arms and he easily leapt into them. Corgis can jump
amazingly with their stumpy little legs, and literally run rings
around the sheep they love to herd. I had no sheep, but did have
several geese, which he ran ragged at least once a day, nimbly
avoiding the old gander, who scrupulously protected his "harem" of
ladies and offspring. They were long asleep in their coop. I took a
moment to secure their door on them, and then welcomed Pete to my
house, switching on the inside lights in the kitchen.

First official thing I did was pop us a couple of cold beers, offering
him a stein from my collection in the dining room. He thanked me
kindly, pouring expertly down the tilted side. I started dinner by
pulling steaks from the freezer, unwrapping them and popping them into
the microwave to thaw, before starting on the salad. The stereo's in
the living room, find something that suits you. Sorry, but I'm not a
Willie Nelson fan, though, more like classical and jazz."

"Oh, I'm easy to please," he replied. "I can listen to just about
anything...." Less than a minute later, I heard Rhapsody in Blue
starting to wail softly. Damn, he was really starting to push some of
the right buttons. I decided to pull out all the stops with
dinner. Opening a good Beaujolais to breathe, I next turned the oven
on, and started chopping veggies for the salad. Next came the
broccoli, washed and dried, and set to steam briefly. The steaks came
out of the zapper, and two potatoes went in. The broiler was ready,
and I seasoned the steaks generously.

"How do you like your steak?" "Medium rare," was the reply, as he came
back into the kitchen, empty beer in hand. He looked at the wine
breathing on the counter.

"Say, er,..." "Joe. My name is Joe. Sorry if I'm getting too fancy,
but it seemed like a good thing to do, since I don't often get the
chance to show off too often."

"Yeah, this wine is a bit too fancy for these parts, that's for
sure. Most folks just don't go in for that kind of stuff. Mostly it's
iced tea and coffee always on the back burner, you know...." I agreed
with him, of course. Early retirement, and "putting on airs" didn't
sit too well out here in the country, so I had tried to soft peddle
the outside appearances, anyway. Nothing fancy in the way of repairs,
just solid local craftsmanship and fresh paint was all I intended to
offer to public view. However, even that minimal offering appeared to
be too pushy for the area, it seemed. Well, too bad; I drew the line
at a wrecked car in the yard and a refrigerator on the back porch.

"Another beer? Steaks'll be ready in a few minutes." He declined, with
thanks. I finished tossing the salad, and started to set the table. He
took the plates and silver from me, saying he'd like to help at least
a little. I let him, and divided the salad onto two small plates,
topping with a few croutons and red onion rings. The broccoli went
into a bowl, with a light Italian dressing instead of butter. The rest
of the bottle went onto the table, along with a bottle of blue cheese
as an alternative.

The potatoes dinged in the microwave, being done, and were picked up
with tongs and placed on the meat platter. Steaks went along side. I
retrieved a pair of wine glasses from the breakfront, and poured the
wine. I decided to offer him the cork, and the honor of tasting, and
was not disappointed; he knew just what to do, as I suspected.

We sat down to eat, not saying a thing until nearly done. I excused
myself, going outside to feed the dog and refill his water
bowl. Almost time to bring him in for the winter, I thought. He licked
my hand in gratitude, and started chowing down.

I came back into the kitchen, to see Pete carefully scraping the
plates into the garbage pail under the sink. "Whoa, none of that!
You're not authorized for that duty, soldier," I barked. He stopped
dead, and quietly put the plate he was holding on the drain board.

"Sorry, SIR! I was only trying to repay your kindness, SIR!" He
snapped to attention, and remained facing away from me. He'd obviously
been in the military, maybe a career noncom. Maybe Motor Pool
sergeant? My heart leaped, then skipped a beat. This was gonna be a
wild night, I was now sure.

"Easy there, didn't mean to startle you. Just joking....sorry if I
took you by surprise." He spun around to face me, a new, pleading look
in his eyes. I found myself hopelessly drawn to him, my feet moving by
themselves until My belly was pressing his bubble butt snugly against
the sink. I stared down into those magnetic amber eyes, drowning in
them, falling deeply into twin amber wells, forgetting even to
breathe. One hand cupped the back of his head, and our lips met in a
thunderous crash, our tongues bursting forth in chivalrous combat,
jousting, thrusting, stabbing, twisting, vying for position and
ultimate conquest of the other man's soul.

Seconds, maybe, but more like hours passed, and we finally came up for
air. "The bathroom is at the top of the stairs directly ahead. WE are
going to take a shower." The new tone of confident authority in my
voice totally surprised me.

"Yessir," and with that, he literally marched out of the kitchen and
up the stairs, with me nipping at his heels, frantically ripping my
clothes off on the way, tripping over untied shoelaces and peeling
socks off just as he entered the small room.

"Freeze, soldier! I want to see you strip bareass naked...NOW!" I'd
slipped around him, sitting on the commode lid, not bothering to
conceal my raging boner, not daring to stroke it for fear of cutting
loose before even touching him. He started slowly by working the
buttons on his grey uniform "Pete" shirt, unrolling the sleeves so he
could slip his massive forearms out without tearing the fabric, then
working the front buttons open, one by one, gradually exposing a
magnificent chest pelt of silvery brown fur that seemed to taper down
to a pointed vee just above his generous navel. He slowly ripped the
shirttails out from under his tight, wide leather belt, exposing the
whole expanse of his incredibly solid gut. His mat of chest hair
seemed to form a kind of hourglass, tapering to a point just above his
navel, and then slowly widening again to disappear below his still
unfastened belt line.

Next came a quick tug on his left shoelace, and a pull, and his shoe
was off. His sock followed seconds later. Then, the same for the right
shoelace, shoe, sock, and they were neatly stowed under the sink.

His hand reached suggestively for his belt buckle, stopping in
invitation for me to allow him to go on. I nodded briefly, not wanting
to break the spell. I could see a gigantic, undefined bulge in his
crotch, growing larger by the second, as his hand popped open the
buckle and fumbled momentarily with the button. I grabbed his hands,
and pulled them away, unable to keep my hands off him any longer. The
zipper hissed metalically, as I pulled it down to the bottom. My hands
hungrily slid around to grip his meaty buns in a death grip, my face
mashed flat against the front of his crotch, rubbing my cheeks, lips,
eyes, forehead, everything, all over his groin, to slip my hands
finally inside the elastic of his briefs and yank everything down to
his ankles, my tongue greedily slobbering his thick, rubbery shaft,
tracing each bulging vein back and forth, up and down its length,
seizing mouthfuls of his wiry pubic hair and tugging gently on it,
lapping at the sides of his scrotum, trying to wedge it between his
balls and the groin behind them. I breathed deeply of his manly
sweat-musk, driving my nose deep into his crotch, before pulling back
and rising to clasp him again in my arms.

Our lips met again, and my heart even faster, if that were possible,
than the first time we kissed. This time there was no battle, no
competition, just a long, slow savoring of the other's sweet lips and
slippery tongue as we explored each other's mouth. We broke away at
the exact same instant, I thought, and looked past each other's eyes,
deeper, all the way into each other's soul, and came home.

"Let's get wet, Pete," I said huskily, as I reached out to turn on the
shower. The water took a minute to heat up, coming from the
basement. We stepped in, and I pulled the curtain around us. I took
the soap to his back, turning him around in a slow circle, lathering
as I went. He wound up facing the faucet, leaning forward to rinse the
suds from his broad back. I watched with fascination as the last of
the bubbles scuttled down his spine, to squeeze themselves into his
ass crack before spilling onto the bottom of the tub. I couldn't help
myself as I followed their progress with my tongue, my eager hands
prying apart the meaty globes of ass meat, to allow my tongue access
to the end of the trail, right at his tight pink pucker, glistening
wetly in the shady light of the tub. I planted a wet kiss on that
rubbery ring, then gave further rein to my lust and wedged the tip of
my tongue between its central crinkles. He gasped in pleasure, and
pushed back his hips, widening his stance. The water sluiced down his
crack, adding more slip to the area, as my tongue slowly crowbarred
its way into the deep recess.

Moaning loudly now, he slowly ground his massive cheeks back into my
face, fucking himself on my rigid, probing tongue. Both his hands were
on the tiled wall ahead of us, so I know for certain he wasn't playing
with himself when he came. It was a gut-wrenching orgasm, dragged from
way down deep in his balls, to splatter in heavy, white jets of lumpy
jism. His tormented butt hole spasmed clutchingly at my tongue,
threatening to pinch it in two. I thought instantly of how that ring
of powerful muscle would feel stretched around my cockshaft, squeezing
it a vice-like grip until all that moaning and thrashing finally

That was all I needed to set me off! I came off like a rocket, totally
unexpectedly, and also without touching myself. I hadn't done anything
that sudden in years, and I hoped Pete's climax was just as unexpected
and wonderful for him.

After rescuing my tongue from its momentary prison, I slowly stood up,
with Pete's powerful hand helping to lift me from my knees to stand
again, looking down into his soaking wet, wonderfully handsome face.

"Whew, that was some ride, Joe. You caught me by surprise, you
did. Sorry I spilled so soon. It's been a while since things have been
that intense."

"You only think you've seen intense. I need to get clean myself, and
then we can discuss 'intense' all night long." I hugged him close to
me in a loving embrace as I slowly sidled sideways in the tub, him
turning with me. The water now poured down my back, splashing a little
over my shoulders. I released him, and turned around again to wet my
chest and belly before soaping up. I looked at the wall in front of
me, and chuckled softly at the twin splashes of whitewash on the
tile. It'd been a while for both of us, and I was fascinated by the
lumps in our loads sliding down the wall, his picking up speed when
they hit the slime trails left by mine. They slowly caught up and
intermingled, in a most prophetic way.

"Looks like I win the ketchup race," I said. "Huh?" came the
question. "You know, that old TV commercial for ketchup, that
emphasized how thick the product is." I maneuvered to one side, giving
him room to see. He chuckled and agreed with me.

We washed me up, without losing control of ourselves again, well,
mostly, anyway. Drying off was another wonderful learning experience,
as we gently caressed each other's bodies with fluffy towels. I'd have
rather used my tongue to lap up his body moisture, but knew we'd never
really get dry, that way.

We got to the bedroom without too much more trouble, except for my
boner poking him in the ass with each step we took. That took a while,
since he kept pushing back, trying to trap my cockhead between his
incredibly muscular buns, and I kept holding him close against me by
working his nipples like there was no tomorrow. We did finally reach
the bed, however, and tore off the bedclothes in the process of
becoming a tangled heap of writhing, twisting, flesh and boners,
jockeying for position and maximum physical contact.

Although I was by far the taller and heavier of us two, and supposedly
had the physical advantage, I soon found myself spread-eagled in the
center of the bed, my arms pinned above my head, looking again into
those intense, hypnotic eyes, just inches from my own. This lasted for
a split second, before his lips met mine again, and our tongues
started their battle royal in earnest.

All too soon, I felt him withdraw his tongue, and felt it slither it
all over my face, tracing a wet path of fire as he turned to one side,
and gave me a "Wet Willie," probing deeply into my ear before
nibbling, then actually chewing on my earlobe and driving me further
insane, if that was possible. His tongue then slowly swept down my
neck and across my chest, his lips gently pulling the fur on my pecs,
then nipping at it, on his way toward my nipple. Seizing his prize
with a throaty growl, he began to worry it like a dog, applying
tremendous suction and tiny, tantalizing nips that sent shivers up and
down my spine and set me to writhing like a snake to get away from
this delicious tit torture, while arching my back to mash it harder
against his mouth, by turns.

He slowly traced another ribbon of fire across to the other nipple,
again sending me off into spasms of pleasure/pain. I could stand it no
longer, and finally got the strength together to pull my arms free,
and shove his head down to my frantically drooling cock. He teased me
there, continually twisting from one side to the other, resisting my
efforts to make him take me and give me the relief I so desperately

"Dammit, Pete, stop teasing and finish me off before I go crazy!" I
demanded, but he knew I was begging, and took his sweet, sweet time in
going all the way. His tongue lapped at the pool of precum gathering
at the base of my aching stiffy, rising in a circular motion,
spreading it evenly around the shaft, every so often dropping back
down to get a fresh supply, before going back to his workmanlike
plastering job. One last dip into the pool, and his incredible lips
closed over my burning cockhead, his tongue swirling around, nearly
driving me over the edge. It was all I could do to hang on.

Suddenly, he was kneeling up over me, spreading his ass cheeks and
forcing himself down on me. Slowly, slowly his tight ring widened to
accommodate the swollen mushroom head, and I heard him gasp as it
slipped all the way in, past the sphincter. Moaning deliriously, he
leaned back, squatting down further and further, until his beautiful
butt was totally pierced and possessed by me. His rectum grabbed me
like a fist, it was so tight and virginal, I was sure. That was the
end! I shot load after load of myself deep into him, his tight ass
flesh being the final straw. I reached up and grabbed both nipples,
pinching them hard. The result on him was electrifying! His cock had
sagged quite a bit as he gingerly impaled himself on me, most of the
pleasure now coming from his ass, rather than his cock. My tit work
changed all that, and brought a good part of his attention back to me.

"AH! Jeez-US, Joe, easy....Oh! Ah! Ow-w-w-woo...." And his load
started answering mine, blast for blast, mostly hitting me full force
in the face. I opened my mouth as wide as I could, getting a good
helping of his salty-sweet cum all over my tongue. I swallowed
hungrily, frantically licking my lips for more, but the well was dry
now. His cock still pumped frantically as I slowly lightened up on his
nipples, finally gently releasing my hold on them. We both held our
positions, gasping for breath....

I extended both arms, grasping him firmly under the armpits, as he
grimaced and pulled himself reluctantly up and off my still swollen
pecker. His tight ass had given it no chance to deflate while he was
around still around it. His hand probed back there, exhaling sharply
as he realized just exactly what size of man I really was, and that
he'd taken all of me.

"I guess that settles it!" he said in a low tone, more to himself than
to me. "I wanted to find out if I was a man or a fag, and the fag
wins, hands down." I reached for his hands, taking them in mine, and
pulled him down on my chest.

"Listen to me, Pete! You are NOT a fag! There's nothing swishy or limp
wristed about you, no lispy whine, or anything like that. You're 101%
man, and always have been, and always will be! Don't you dare think
anything otherwise, you hear me?" My arms circled around his broad
shoulders, hugging him tightly. "You're just one of those men who
prefer sex with other men, that's all. You've just found your correct
sexual preference. There's no need for a major life-style change,
believe me."

"Hell, I'd like to believe you, Joe. I really would, except...." I cut
him off-- "...except bullshit! It's that simple. Don't go making
mountains out of molehills. That's an order." I finished with a gentle
kiss on the forehead.

"You sound just like my father. He always said that every time I tried
to make things harder than they were, mainly because I thought it was
wrong for it to be too easy. Took me a long time to figure out he was
right, mostly, but I guess I still don't really believe it in my
heart," came the reply.

"Believe it! I'm not letting go of you until you do....believe that,
too!" and with that, I got up, retrieve the covers, and flung them
over him, before turning out the lights and crawling into bed next to
him. He was already asleep, I found, as our bodies touched. He pulled
away slightly, until I reached around him and pulled him into me. He
snuggled closer, and sighed a happy little sigh as I held him close,
feeling his soft breath on my chest.

I awoke to the smell of wonderful coffee, bacon and toast filling the
room. I came downstairs to find him shoveling piles of fluffy
scrambled eggs onto two plates, along with wonderfully crisp bacon
strips and buttered toast. Steam rose lazily from two mugs laid out on
a carefully arranged kitchen table.

"I think I found everything. Hope you don't mind too much for me
messing up your kitchen." There was no mess; everything had been
carefully cleaned as it was dirtied, and a sink of sudsy water was
waiting for the frying pan as soon as it was empty.

"I should be so messy. You've obviously been well trained in the
kitchen arts. I'm impressed," I replied. We sat down together and dug
in, and it didn't take long before everything was nothing but a
memory. "What time do you have to be at work? I'll need to arrange
transportation, if it's going to take a while for my drain plug to be
delivered." His face reddened, and he looked at me slyly.

"Er, I have a small confession to make....There's no cracked drain
plug. I lied, on the outside chance this sort of thing might
happen. When you walked through the door yesterday afternoon, I
couldn't believe my eyes. It was as if you were my old high school
football coach, and you found me again, after all these years. I had
such a crush on him, and didn't know what to make of it all at the
time, except I'd have done anything he wanted, but he never noticed,
never noticed at all, and so...." Pete ran out of breath, finally, and
ground to a halt. "I'm sorry I lied, but I had to take the chance. I
wouldn't have dared to start anything, but when you invited me in, I
thought I'd died and gone to heaven. And then when you started to come
on to me, I knew it for sure."

"Well! I have to say I need to confess you took me by surprise, too. I
don't know why, but you really pressed just about every button I had,
when I walked in yesterday. You don't remind me of anyone that I
recall, but that didn't stop you from hitting me like a ton of
bricks. I couldn't believe my good fortune to get you here for even
just a minute, much less the night. Might I be so bold as to inquire
if you're interested in dinner again tonight?" I held my breath after
this, and waited for a sign. His eyes suddenly narrowed in thought,
and my heart sank....

"I'm not sure what to say....I need some time to work out things,
considering what happened last night. My mind says it need time to
think thing through, but my heart says, dammit, hell yes! Can we have
dinner somewhere else, instead....sorta like a date?" His look said it
all. I knew I still had the inside track, but needed to play it cool
for the moment.

"Sure....How about the House of Hunan in Jefferies? They do a great
Mongolian Barbecue. What time would you like to meet?"

He thought a moment, and agreed to meet me there at 7:30, giving him
an hour to get cleaned up and changed. We said little more, except
small talk as we finished washing and drying the breakfast dishes
together. I fed the dog his morning chow, filled the water bowl, and
climbed into his truck for the trip back to pick up my car. He turned
the news on, just in time for the weather report. We both listened,
and by the time it was over, we were pulling into the parking lot. He
paused for a moment, leaning towards me for a quick kiss, before he
dropped me at the front door, saying it'd take him a few minutes to
open up and get the computer running. I walked in, and went to the
snack bar, which was all that was open this early. I had a second cup
of coffee, and took my time, since I had a lot to consider. Would he
show up? Worse, would we call it quits and go our separate ways after
dinner? I suddenly felt so lost and alone, more than ever before. No
one had ever hit me this hard, ever.

I slowly finished the coffee, and absentmindedly refilled it, put a
lid on it, and walked out into the now open store. I don't remember
anything between then and opening the door to the service bays. Pete
was perched on his lofty throne, holding forth and assigning work to
his mechanics, all business.

"Good morning, Mr. Goodbody, your car is ready," came his brisk
greeting. "There's no charge, since we should have had the parts in
stock." He winked at me, and handed over the keys and work papers,
over my protest. "I'll see you later," came as an aside between just
the two of us. I winked back, and replied, "You'd better believe you
will - all of me. I plan on bringing all my business to you." And with
that, all the weight of the world lifted from my shoulders.

Mittwoch, 22. Januar 2014

An older man

Written by Teddy Goldberg (

My boring office job is driving my crazy. So is my sexless marriage. My
wife is beautiful and my best pal, but somehow the sex drive seems to have
dropped off the page of our life together.

Several years back I indulged in sex with a guy. I indulge in this
infrequently, but as of late the urge has been returning with a vengeance.
I think it's due to a state of boredom mixed with urgent horniness.

In San Francisco there is an Internet bulletin board called Craigslist. I
often scan the listings when I am bored at work. This site has classified
for real estate, housing, jobs, cars, and all sorts of other stuff
including personal ads. Needless to say, I spend a lot of time browsing
the "man for man" personals. The neat thing is that these ads can be
filtered which makes it real easy to narrow the focus of a search by
location, age, or sexual inclination.

Recently, I have been having fantasies about connecting with a mature older
man. Someone in his 50's or 60's who lives alone: maybe a widower or a
divorced bi guy, with a hunger for younger men. Something within me
yearned to please an older guy and to be treated as a son. Perhaps I was
dwelling on some sort of "incest with Dad fantasy," I `m not really sure?
But something about older bi and gay men made me feel as if they were more
sincere, honest and real than the jerks that normally populate this
bulletin board wanting to eat poop or have fast anonymous sex. In reality,
I want relatively anonymous no-strings sex, but I want it with a clean,
caring, mature, hygienic person with a good head on his shoulders. I don't
want to connect with idiots or assholes.

So, I started scanning the classifieds in hopes of finding an ad that
suggested whoever posted it was sincere, as opposed to the vulgar desperate
angle that most of these posts seem to have. I filtered for someone
between 55 and 75 and started scanning the results. Ultimately I found a
post that really intrigued me. It read as follows:

Mature guy looking for younger hot, fit, sexy guy to have some play and
fun!! Me: 5'7", 205 lbs., lightly hairy body, healthy, d/d free, negative
(UB2), 6.5" cut, thick, large head, nice balls, super, sane, and strong sex drive...YOU: fit/average/muscular body,
super clean, like long sessions with cuddling/kissing/lots of oral...more
with the right guy...TONIGHT if possible! Please send pic with your
response and I will return the same...My place--safe, discreet,
comfortable...let's play, have fun, and enjoy being two men together for
total pleasure...ongoing would be great!!...

I thought to myself, "bingo," but the chances of hooking up for real are
slim in this nutty Craigslist world. My past experiences dictated that
most guys are flakes who don't follow through. Nonetheless I replied with
a face pic and a brief description of myself:

I am 39, bi, married, closeted, sincere, passionate and very friendly.
I am 6', 210, extremely discrete, safe, hiv neg, clean and careful.
I have been bi about 5 years and only play on occasion with safe sane people.
I have enjoyed one or two connections I've made in the past with genuine,
nice older men.
I'd be interested in possibly connecting with you after we have had a
chance to exchange some info with each other.

I look forward to hearing back from you, but if you are already connected
with another, please play safely.


My work day passed uneventfully and I commuted home as usual. The next
morning I received a reply and photo from "Jim." He was good looking with
a dignified face and shocking white hair -- a strong fatherly type. His
reply read as follows:

Thanks for the response.
I like the "sound" of your email and your underlying enthusiasm.
Tonight may work. Will you have a cell phone with you?

His reply was notably vague but at the same time sincere, but I wrote back.
I'll spare the details but he invited me over that night. I gave my wife
the line that I was going to a rehearsal. (In my spare time I am a working
musician) and nothing more was said. I hopped in the car around 7 and
calmly drove south from the city with my heart pounding in my chest and my
cock dripping in anticipation.

When I got to his freeway exit I dialed him on my cell phone: "Hi, Jim.
It's me, Terry."

"Hey buddy, it's good to hear your voice," he said. I thought to myself,
He sounds so nice and real, I think we're going to have a great connection.
"So I'm nearby Jim. Is it ok to come right up to your front door?" Jim
replied with, "I live alone Terry. Feel free to knock."

Moment's later I was at his door, trying to keep my cool, but jittery with
anxiety. I nervously knocked. He opened and invited me in. He was
dressed in slacks, a white cotton button down dress shirt and loafers. His
white hair combed back neatly complimented his tanned skin. He smelled of
soap and looked delicious to me. His place was clean and well appointed
with modern furniture and had the aura of a man's home. I sensed the vague
aroma of single malt scotch co-mingled with deodorant as we sat side by
side on his plush leather sofa.

"Thanks so much for having me over Jim." "No worries Terry. I'm so glad
you could make it... So you are married Terry?" "Yes," I said in reply.
"My wife is a great gal, but we just don't have much sex as of late and my
mind has been turning towards thoughts of men." "I know how that can be
Terry. My wife died two years ago but the latter part of our long
connection was sexually inactive. I started connecting with men about 10
years ago, and now, I am fully comfortable with my gayness. It certainly
has been more erotic." As he said this, he reached out and stroked my
leg.and my cock twitched with arousal.

"So have you had any long-term relationships with younger guys Terry?" He
replied, "Well, I just got passed a recent connection with a young fellow
who wound up moving back east with his family. We had a nice thing going
but I guess you could say I am on the rebound now." "Understood," I said
with a wink. "I must say, you are a very handsome guy Jim. You kind of
match all the expectations I have had about connecting with a warm,
friendly and sincere older man." "Well I can honestly say the same about
you Terry. You have a great smile and a hot body."

By this time, we were intently touching each other, rubbing and caressing.
In fact, he was rubbing my erection through my slacks as I caressed his
torso. Then he leaned over gently and pressed his lips against mine, his
warm tongue found its way to mine, and we kissed deeply. It felt
incredible to be with him, on his sofa, in the safety and comfort of his
home. Not much more was said as we French kissed and cuddled there in the
dim twilight of an early spring evening. After a few moments he stood,
holding my right hand in his. He pulled me up, and romantically undressed
me. I reciprocated, taking time to kiss and squeeze his nipples as I
unbuttoned his shirt and unzipped his slacks.

When we were both naked we pressed our chests together in a warm embrace,
kissing deeply once again. His cock was a stiff 6.5 inches, lined with
turgid blue veins and a smooth bulbous head. Mine was similar and standing
stiffly upright with arousal. He took my hand and led me up the stairs to
his bedroom.

He had a large king-size bed with a cherry frame that was elegantly made up
with tan sheets that matched the hue of the bedroom walls. He pulled back
the covers and we lay down together side by side and continued our intimate
snuggling. By this time I was in a state of blissful escape from my
workaday world there in Jim's bed. I was his lover, his young devotee,
catering to his sexual needs; filling the void in his world, the receptacle
of his loving attention. He laid me out on my back, wrapped his strong
arms around my torso and pressed his chest against mine. Then he jammed
his tongue deep in the back of my throat telling me through his body
language that he would be assuming a dominant sexual roll in our
connection. Then he relaxed and held onto the headboard, raising his
thick, stiff cock to my lips. I complied and his shaft eased gently
through my lips and deep into the back of my throat. I hungrily accepted
his advances, sucking and slurping his smooth cock with gleeful abandon and
loving the sensation of him inside my mouth. At the same time Jim reached
back behind himself and stroked me to full erection. I was losing control
but striving to keep my cool in this incredibly arousing situation. I was
overwhelmed with lust for this older man as his cock slammed my velvety
throat and his hand stroked me to the point of leaking. Then, just as he
was reaching his own state of climax, I shot a huge load upon his back and
all over and the bed sheets. At the same time his cum slammed the back of
my throat and with an insecure sense of trust; I devoured every drop,
savoring the warm, salty essence of his cum. He whispered, "Terry, have no
worries. I am safe and negative." Through my cum guzzling state I
replied... "Good Jim, I need to know that."

The next ten minutes we lay in a pile of man sweat and cum, cuddling and
caressing; speaking gently of our experiences and fantasies. Moments
passed and soon we were aroused again, stroking each other's stiff arousal
and moving towards something deeper.

After a few more moments Jim said, "Terry, I want you. I want to have you.
Is this something you want to?" I smiled and nodded, knowing what he had
in mind. I rolled up on the bed with my head resting on soft pillows and
placed my legs upon his shoulders. He reached over to the night table,
opened a drawer, removed a tube of lubricant and some condoms and set to
work easing well-greased fingers into my love hole. My back arched with
his touch and as he stuffed three lubed fingers deep within me and began to
nudge my prostate gland, driving me wild with desire for his cock. "Oh,
Jim... please, please fuck me now," I said. He replied, "Only too happy to
oblige, son," With the operative word, "Son," I knew our connection was
meant to be.

Without indulging in any bizarre role-play, we were, for all intents and
purposes making real my personally held fantasy to engage in a father-son
sexual connection and his way with me was extremely effective. A moment or
two later he was nudging the thick bulbous head of his condom covered cock
into and past my tight rosebud. The friction in my rear and the pressure
upon my prostate was incredible and I squeezed and milked his cock with my
ass muscles, reciprocating with my own body language letting him know
without words, how much pleasure he was bringing me.

He began to pump and buck and ride my ass, plowing me with long powerful
strokes of his cock; my rear receiving his turgid thickness and widening to
adapt to the depth of his pumping motions. After 10 minutes of this, our
bodies glistened with a thin film of sweat which served to lubricate our
motions and caused me to revel in the intensity of our lust for each other.
Finally, with the last of his hugely powerful lunges he leaned over, gazed
deeply into my eyes and pressed his tongue deeply in my mouth, swirling it
around in my cum-glazed orifice. He hugged me tightly and as his back
arched he exploded in my rear. At the same time I shot wads of spunk all
over his chest as he stroked and milked my cock to finality.

The intensity of our connection was beyond words; two lustful men
experiencing the height of erotic man to man sexual arousal. His dignified
essence showed me the way; my bi-sexual naivety was taken to a higher place
by this experienced and loving mature father-like figure of a man.

We spent the balance of the night in his bed, like spoons in a drawer. I
was his lover and the future was ours to experience...

Following my initial experience my newfound, mature fatherly lover, Jim,;
the one I'd met online via, I found myself deeply smitten
with him. Of course, after our initial connection I was forced to create a
psychological firewall for myself in order to separate this new compulsion
from the very true and sincere love and friendship I have had with my wife,
but after five years of discrete bisexual experimentation I felt I was now
ready for a deeper connection with a man, albeit with all the same caution
and care I'd taken in my occasional indulgences.

>From the moment I'd connected with Jim, ours was a passionate affiliation.
We'd kissed and snuggled, had intense contact and made love in the deepest
way with Jim asserting himself kindly but authoritatively as the dominant
Father figure in the initial moments of our tryst. I was more than happy to
serve as a submissive son to this dominant but fatherly man and the pleasure
of our love making solidified the roles we'd assume. I was still not sure
why my heart was telling me that I desired a fatherly lover, but I was
slowly finding out why. We also engaged in lengthy clandestine phone calls
and exchanged many heartfelt emails that contained both fantasy and urgently
expressed emotions that drew us closer as friends, lovers and confidants.

We kept in touch via email and lengthy but discrete phone call on a near
daily basis, but the separation was causing us both a case of intense,
nearly obsessive desire for each other. When my wife announced she'd be
spending a week in the East coast at her father's house and would be taking
our son along with her, the opportunity to physically reconvene my
connection with Jim was made clear. Three weeks later on a Friday evening,
I dropped my family off at SFO and instead of heading back to my home in San
Francisco I veered south to Jim's house content with the notion that I'd
probably be spending a large part of the next week with him at his home
south of the city.

The 30 minute drive south provided me an opportunity to think about the
feelings that were welling up in my psyche about my connection with Jim.
And at the same time, I began to analyze that anxiety these occasional
man-to-man experiences instilled in me. Thinking of that first night with
Jim made my heart thump with this anxiety. And in a way it was addictive.
It was the anxiety of risk, deception and fear mixed with arousal and erotic
possibility. Images rolled through my mind of kissing Jim, his assertive
manor and rigid cock; the smell of his skin and the taste of his cum; but
also the warmth and pleasure of his presence in my life; his friendship,
adoration and tender but authoritative way with me. The more I reflected on
these thoughts the more my heart beat and my own cock stiffened. By the
time I got to Jim's door I was thoroughly aroused at the potential of what
would transpire next between us.

I knocked and Jim opened. He was beaming with happiness and wearing only
bathrobe at the door. "Terry! Thank God you're here. It's been too darn
long and based on what you've told me it seems we may have a week together?
Is this true?"

I gulped and nodded positively, "I just drove the family to the airport and
didn't even bother heading back home Jim. I felt I needed to be near you.
More to the point, I need to be with you, in your bed, by your side... as your
um, ..., well, as your son sir."

Jim smiled acknowledging my statement. He approached me, wrapped his strong
mature arms around me and pressed his lips urgently to mine. Our tongues
swirled with shared delight at the freedom of our arousal and the bliss of
this manly connection. I sensed a familiar and urgent feeling as Jim's cock
stiffened and popped through the fabric of his bathrobe poking me in crotch.
I reached down to caress and stroke him as we continued our languorous

Finally, Jim pulled back from our kiss and said, "You're probably wondering
why I'm in a bathrobe Terry?"

"Well the thought did come to mind Jim, but I wasn't obsessed with why," I

He replied, "Our first night together was so loving and so incredible that I
didn't really get a chance to show you around my place Terry. Just through
the back door I have a wonderful private garden complete with a hot tub
spa. Care to get naked and join me for a nice hot soak lover?"

"Wow, Jim... nothing would please me more," I said. Then he led me to a
sliding glass door at the rear of his house and I followed him out to a
redwood deck nestled in a lovely garden complete with a bouquet of fragrant
aromatic plants, semi-tropical palms and ornamental orchids. In one corner,
adding the idyllic atmosphere was a moss covered natural rock fountain that
trickled with the pleasant din of a mountain stream relocated in a suburban
backyard. The whole thing was an oasis of calm with the hot tub completely
concealed from the prying eyes of neighbors and my mind reflected upon the
love and care that Jim had put into this space and his own pleasure at
sharing it with me. And once again, I felt totally safe and secure with him
at his home. Any fears of being indiscrete were totally shelved in his

The hot tub itself was mounted in a hole in the redwood deck with a changing
bench and bunch of hooks for towels and clothing mounted above it. I
undressed quickly, taking time to neatly hang my clothing on the hooks and
then I slipped into the water beside Jim who was still smiling a great big
grin as he we immersed ourselves in the heated water and began to kiss and
fondle again.

The force of Jim's kisses and the aggressiveness of his caresses made it
clear that he was elated with my presence. His cock was as stiff and thick
as a large cucumber under the surface of the water and I took care to gently
stroke his thick turgid love-stick as we continued to swirl our tongues in
each other's mouths. Then Jim whispered in my ear, "Terri..., `son...," I was
tested for HIV last week and I am totally negative. I trust that you as a
married man are the same?"
I nodded in agreement. "I've always wanted to make love to a man in this
hot tub and have never had the chance. Will you submit to me and be the
first, here and now?"

I replied, "Jim, I'm honored and flattered but at the same time I'm not sure
if you are sincere about my being the first.., though it makes little
difference. I'd love to be your lover here and now." He smiled knowingly
and as I straddled his glistening frame and wiggled my rear end over his
rigid erection. The thought of being taken raw, without protection
frightened me, but our connection had been one based on honesty and
sincerity so I had little reason to doubt him. I also had longed for the
day when a mature, trustworthy lover would take me in this way and I longed
to feel the surging, urgent release of warm creamy cum flooding my insides.
I especially craved the loving, lustful climax of this beautiful man.

I wiggled my rear some more over his thick cock and the natural slickness of
the chlorinated hot tube water seemed to be enough lubricant to allow Jim to
enter my tight anal hole. The friction was incredibly arousing as his 8
inch cock stretched me and I quickly passed through the initial state of
discomfort I'd normally undergone when bottoming. Soon Jim was in me to the
hilt and the feelings we were both experience were of an intensely blissful
nature. My ass ring squeezed and gripped his rock hard shaft in response to
the turgid pressure of his cock so deeply buried within me. I had never
felt so aroused and my own cock surged with pleasure at his masterful
control of my body. My thighs were literally burning with the intensity of
our connection and my own cock was stiff with delight. We kissed deeply
again and then began to shift and gyrate in the bubbling water, our bodies
co-mingling with squeaky satisfaction. Ultimately, the heat and sweat got
the best of us and Jim literally stood up with my legs wrapped around his
body and his cock still deeply embedded in my rear. He carefully leaned
back and laid himself out on the deck with me straddling him, fully mounted
and drilled from below.

"God, Jim – you make me feel so damn alive with lust. I love being your
lover, your son, your boy." These words were imbued with sincerity and
meaning, but were also trigger words of our complimentary fantasy and we
both neared the edge of control, wanting to explode but backing away so as
to prolong the powerful pleasure. After a few moments it was clear that the
deck was not the best place to continue our heated sexual gyrations. I got
to my knees and pulled off of Jim's cock with audible pppppfffffftttttt.
Then I helped him to his feet and strode a few feet away to a plastic
chaise-lounge chair where I simply laid down prostrate on my tummy, Jim
gently lowered himself upon me and re-inserted his thickness in me. The
feeling of his wet, sweaty stomach against my back was a blissful reminder
of our "father-son" connection and he started to pound and buck inside me.
He nibbled at my ears and the back of my neck and then after 5 minutes of
building intensity arched his back and slammed his cock to the hilt within
me. We came simultaneously and for the first time I felt the intense, warm,
creamy discharge of a man's seed within my bowels. It spurted in excess
from the gasket of my sphincter and my own cock blasted a huge wad of semen
through the plastic mesh of the lounger and onto the redwood deck. We lay
there together, entangled in a state of after-glow and ecstasy, his
unsheathed cock slowly softening within me and my rear filled with his
enormous warm cum-load.

After a few moments Jim pulled out and said, "Terry, please don't move a
muscle. I'll get a towel for you and I have a special request which I can't
explain, but you'll understand when I return. I'll just be a minute."

"Okay Jim, whatever you say, I trust you..."

A moment or two later he returned carrying a big fluffy white beach towel.
He was wearing his robe and he leaned over to towel me off. I started to
roll over to see what all the fuss was about but he pressed my shoulders
down and said, "Terry, please don't move. I need you to remain down on your
tummy." Then I felt the tip of a thick rubber butt plug being nudged into
my dripping, cum-filled ass. My anal ring stretched wide and then with an
audible pffftttt, similar to when I backed off Jim's turgid cock, the plug
nestled itself home – the flanged base snugly filling my rear. It felt
unexplainably wonderful to have this within me. I could tell my prostate
was being pressed and stimulated and I could still sense the warmth of Jim's
cum squishing around inside me.

"Terry, can I assume you are going to spend the night with here with me?"

I replied, "Is that okay with you Jim?"

He smiled reassuringly and said, "Nothing would make me happier son."

I beamed and then got to my feet. I felt a warm trickle escape from my rear
and roll down my leg. Jim reached out again and kissed me – this time with
a romantic embrace.

"Terry, that was so wonderful. You better watch out, I am starting to fall
in love with you."

Then he winked with an understanding that told me he knew of my internal
conflict. I felt he would not insinuate himself physically between me and
my marriage, but this experience would surely give me pause to question that
relationship in favor of this one. Nothing more was said about the subject.
We sat down together, side-by-side on the lounge chair, the ethereal din
of a trickle of falling water filling the space between us as he held me in
his arms and once again, we deeply kissed.

Moments later we were in his bed. We were utterly relaxed from our hot tub
lovemaking and lay in bed fondling. This intimacy was less erotic, but
every bit as memorable and pleasant as our sex in that we could explore and
touch and pleasure each other without the pressure of performance and for
me, as a married man, opportunities to simply be loving with another guy are
rare. I savored these moments. I realized I still had the latex plug in my
rear but it caused no pain and symbolized a kind of submission to Jim. But
I found myself so calm, so serene and relaxed that I literally passed into a
dreamy sleep.

Hours must have passed and light was streaming through the curtains when I
came to consciousness. Before I'd summoned my wits I realized that Jim's
arms were wrapped around me and his cock was once again deeply embedded in
my rear.

"Hmmm... good morning lover," Jim whispered in my ear. "How does it feel to
wake up in my bed? Are you pleasantly surprised by my intrusion? I figured
since you are here, you are mine to have."

All I could do was purr like a kitten and tighten my sphincter to let him
know of my blissful pleasure at this early morning surprise. I guess I must
have really been exhausted because I hadn't even noticed that he'd removed
the plug he'd inserted after our hot tub session. He also did a thorough
job of cleaning me with a wet washcloth and had lubed me up liberally before
having me for breakfast in bed. He had his arms wrapped around me and at
one point he rolled over on his back, clinging tightly to my torso and
leaning his head on a pillow as he stroked and fondled my cock. I was in
heaven with his thick cock buried in my hole, his masculine arms enfolding
me and his hands massaging my stiffening dick. My body rocked and gyrated
nestled in the warmth of his and I turned my head to kiss him deeply. I
wiggled, and pumped and bucked while speared on his shaft, like the olive on
his toothpick and after some intensely blissful moments my cock shot like a
fountain spraying more cum all over my belly. He blasted raw, in my rear
once again and we simply lay in a sweaty satisfied pile as the morning
turned to day...

...After an intense night of powerful sex and an equally mind-blowing morning
of me being "breakfast-in-bed," for Jim we simply lazed around his house on
Saturday morning. My wife and child were out of town and Jim was for all
intents and purposes a divorced man who had found himself free to explore
the fascinating proclivities of his ever-growing attraction to younger men.
At 63, he was strikingly handsome with a shock of neatly trimmed white hair,
smooth, supple tanned skin for his age, plenty of muscle tone, especially in
his upper body, with a thick, lengthy cock riddled with powerful veins. What
made his crotch extra delicious was that he regularly shaved himself of any
excess crotch hair leaving his plumbing incredibly edible and extremely
enticing. His face was dignified with a strong aquiline nose and high cheek
bones and his countenance gave off an air of authority without hiding the
twinkle in his eye and the warmth of his personality.

After our morning fuck-fest I decided to cook us breakfast; eggs, bacon,
toast, juice, strong coffee and some quality time chatting about each
other's background, sexual maturity and explorations in the arousing world
of man to man sex. As we sat there toe-toe, smiling into each other's eyes
I asked Jim a pointed question and his reply turned into an extensive
recounting of his inroads into man-toman passion.

"So Jim, were you into men when you were married?" I said.

"Oh my; for sure, Terry. To tell you the truth, I've been fantasizing
about cocks and hot times with men since I was a teenager. Actually my
first experience with a guy was when I was about 16." Jim proceeded to tell
me the following tale:

"I had an older brother who had always wrestled in middle and high school
and he taught me some of what he knew, so I wound up getting involved with a
school wrestling program in the 9th grade. I had a wrestling coach, Coach
Wilson who was very fatherly and sort of took me under his wing. To tell
the truth, I didn't really have any thoughts or notions of being sexually
attracted to men at that age as I had barely hit puberty. Long story short,
I became sort of a son to Coach Wilson and would hang around after practice
and help him straighten up the gym, put the wrestling mats and gear away and
do simple errands for him."

"One winter evening, after training all afternoon, Coach Wilson noticed me
working on some defensive techniques and decided to show me a few useful
escape moves. After we'd worked up a pretty good sweat he had me down on my
all fours. Of course I was in one of those tight wrestling outfits with
head gear and wrestling shoes and he was in the top position with one hand
on my elbow and the other wrapped under me, ready to advise me on how to
escape. But it was late, and we'd already gone through a bunch of positions
when all of a sudden I felt Coach Wilson fondling my privates through my
tight outfit. He was basically massaging and fondling my balls and cock and
it felt so natural and good that I didn't react in shock or disgust. I
remember clearly moaning with pleasure at his touch and the next thing I
knew I was flat on my back in this empty gymnasium with my coach jamming his
tongue in my mouth, fondling my body and caressing my stiff little cock
through the fabric of my wrestling outfit."

"That sounds hot Jim, but also sort of frightening at that age." I said.

"Well, Terry, Coach Wilson was a handsome man, I'd say about 45 years old
with a muscle-bound, taught body and as time passed I was really growing
closer to him. When he kissed me, instead of finding it revolting, I found
myself urgently kissing back. After a while he took me into his office,
locked the door and opened up a locked closet he'd converted into a
"nap-room," complete with a lamp, recliner and small metal cot.

I was very nervous, but his way with me was very confident and capable. I
remember him sitting on the cot, with his pants off, just taking in the
image of my sweaty body, his cock stiff with erection as he touched and
fondled my dick through the fabric of the outfit and rubbed my balls and
that space between them and my ass. Then he basically tore off the rest of
his clothes and mine as well and then he pulled me on top of him and pressed
our chests and cocks, lips and tongues together. He whispered in my ear
that he would never harm me and then he grabbed a tube of lubricant he had
stashed under the cot and began to massage and widen my rear with it.

I had never felt anything like that before and it made my own cock drip
with arousal. After he worked on my hole for a good 10 minutes he whispered
in my ear again, `Jim, I am going to put my penis in you. You may feel some
initial discomfort, but I promise you it will subside, and after a few
moments you are going to feel a sense of pleasure you have never felt
before. Trust me. You will enjoy it.' Then he raised my legs up and onto
his shoulders and slowly nudged his girth into me. Sure enough, when he was
fully within I thought I was going to pee and poop right then and there. I
remember my eyes got teary from the discomfort, but after a few moments,
just as Coach Wilson had promised, the pain turned to an intense feeling of
pleasure and I was soon put in a state of ecstasy with his cock pumping and
stretching my ass. No one would ever find us in this room within a locked
room late after practice and we got even sweatier as he continued to pump
and pound my young, muscular body. Finally, he grasped me tightly and
released hot cum deep within me and when I felt the warm, wet rush of him
inside me I was pushed over the edge and my cock exploded too.

Needless to say, I spent many after-practice hours on that cot as Coach
Wilson's young boy lover. He taught me so much about man to man lust and
thank goodness no one ever found out, though our connection lasted through
four years of High School. And all the while I had a girlfriend and even
won 4 state wrestling tournaments. I figure if I hadn't been so close to
Coach Wilson I would never have become such a good wrestler, and I certainly
wouldn't have been so intimate with men, though it's difficult to say for
sure?" Ultimately I went to college. I still wrestled and on occasion had
some interesting man-to-man trysts, but nothing was quite like the
connection I'd had with Coach Wilson. After college I met Mary and figured
I was better off with a regular marriage and family in the eyes of the
world, though my mind still reeled with lustful thoughts of men.

"I'm amazed at your story Jim! Not only that, but it sounds incredibly
erotic to know that you were attracted to older men the same way that I am
to you. I only wish I were that young when I started down this road – but I
guess that's no big deal." I said. Jim smiled across the table and then I
felt his foot between my legs, rubbing my crotch. I was in boxer shorts and
a t-shirt but his touch got me hard pretty fast. This week without family
was really making me a horn-dogged guy with Jim and I was literally living
out this fantasy with gusto.

"Terry?' Jim said. "Now that we've got our wits about us, and have eaten
and had coffee, I think it's clear that neither of us is sexually sated."
He pushed his chair back from the breakfast table and held out his hand. I
rose and held out my own which he grasped and then he led me back toward the
stairs. As we mounted the stairs he had me lead and then he wrapped one arm
around my torso and whispered in my ear, "Terry, I am so glad you spent the
night here and have been my lover. The story I just told you was and served
to get me started down this road. I am wondering if you would humor me and
help me to relive it here, and now?"

I replied, "At this point I'd doing anything with you and for you Jim." I
said. You have brought me to places I'd never imagined sexually and I'd be
happy to indulge you."

He responded, "You are so great Terry. I don't know what I did to deserve
you so late in my life, but I am slowly falling for you... but have no
worries, I may ruin you for a week, but I won't ruin your life, family and
marriage. And besides, I have a pretty good notion that you've been
enjoying our connection.. wink wink?"

I said, "So what did you have in mind Jim? How do you want to relive this
fantasy of yours?"

We'd reached the top of the stairs and entered Jim's bedroom again when Jim
said, "Terry, take off your boxers and t-shirt and go in the bathroom. In
the bottom drawer of the cabinet you will find some special clothing. I'd
really like it if you would try putting them on and then come back to me
here in bed?"

I did what I was asked to do by Jim and a few moments later I returned to
him at his bedside. I was surprised that he had sort of set me up but in
the same light I was happy to share in his fantasy. When I returned to him
I was wearing a tight fitting maroon wrestling tunic with white piping,
along with calf high wrestling shoes that seemed to fit perfectly along with
matching headgear complete with ear protection and a chin strap with chin
cup. For obvious reasons my cock was turgid with arousal inside this outfit
and as weird as it seemed, I was utterly aroused to be Jim's young fuck-boy
protégé. It felt kinky and odd, but also great to be the subject of Jim's
oddly formed desire.

Moments later we were wrestling on the floor and Jim's hands were all over
me, fondling, cuddling, caressing and groping me. While we tussled Jim
stroked my cock, ass and chest. He repeatedly bit my nipples and pinned me
on my back jamming his tongue in my mouth as he forced me to the mat. I
didn't' expect him to get so physical, but I decided to let him live out his
desires since he'd been so loving and generous to me up to now.

Before I was officially pinned I decided to be playful so I arched my back
and managed to toss him off me. Moments later he was back on me with a
vengeance and had me on my tummy, pulling back the tight nylon tunic fabric
down around my ass crack.. Then I basically gave up resisting as he
aggressively forced his tongue in my rear, wriggling it about with glee and
causing my cock to stiffen with intense arousal. Sweat was building up
under my headgear and I basically just lay back and submitted to his kinky
fantasies. It felt incredible having my ass chewed and licked by Jim and I
melted with his dominant, coach-like touch.

"Terry, `Son", you are making me hot with this. Thanks for helping me
relive a formative youthful digression – albeit with the roles reversed... I
want you now to get up, remove your tunic, but keep that head gear and the
shoes on and go lay down there in my bed with a pillow wadded up under your
tummy. Will you do this for me son?"

I smiled, anxious to be the recipient of Jim's lovemaking once again.
"You're a kinky old man Jim, and I love it when you call me `son.' Of
course I will, "Daddy." I immediately got to my feet, removed the no damp
tunic from my glistening sweaty body and lay down in his big king sized bed
with a pillow wadded up under me and my saliva lubed rear raised and ready
for his attention. We were both panting with lust and our skin was damp
from the intensity of our contact. My rear was slick with his oral probing
and I had clearly grown a bit more accustomed to the girth of his beautiful
cock after the several sessions of last night and this morning.

He slipped in fairly easily and once again I clenched and squeezed his
shaft with my anal ring, telling him of my desire for his penetration. He
fucked me hard rendering me helpless by placing my upper body in a full
nelson and grasping the ear covers of the headgear. Our sweat covered
bodies grew moister and the contact of his body against my back made me leak
with desire. He stiffened his restrictive hold on my neck, arms and
shoulders as he jerked and pumped my rear with reckless abandon. He bit my
neck and ears and whispered, "I love you son," repeating it like a mantra
until his back arched and I felt his thickness once again violently explode
within my rear; excess cum spurting out the side of my hole from the
intensity of his lust. I was in a state of erotic release and I stained the
bed sheets with a huge blast of my own. Once again we lay there in
post-coital bliss, kissing and caressing till his shaft softened and fell
from my over-worked love hole.

The pleasure of the shared after-glow with Jim was beginning to ruin me.
The terse, rapid, relatively slap-bang sexual encounters I'd been having in
the recent past with my wife paled by comparison. These experiences with
Jim were intense, robust, erotic and fully realized. I loved being able to
satisfy one of his fantasies and I hoped that perhaps he had other's that I
might have a hand in recreating for him within the next week...