Sonntag, 18. Januar 2015

The Old Queer

I had already run for more than two miles down the seemingly endless dirt road. My whole body ached. My lungs felt like they were own fire, my legs were cramping, even my arms hurt from swinging them back and forth in stride with my legs. But I didn’t want to stop. The big track meet in Dothan was only a month away and I was determined to win. Determined to beat all those rich kids from Dothan Highschool with their fancy track shoes. My running shoes were my white PC Penny’s canvas sneakers. I was running around the entire section of farmland near our farm, which meant running four miles. I had been doing the run for a month, but it didn’t seem to get any easier. Guess I just kept running faster instead of coasting.

I didn’t mean to stop at big creek, but when I got near the bridge, the thoughts of taking a swim came upon so strong that I stopped running and slowed down to a walk. “Damn, stopping early just this once won’t matter.” I said between quick breaths.

Knowing that I couldn’t go skinny dipping near the bridge, I looked for and found the seldom used path along the creek’s bank. I knew a distance swimming hole that was almost never used because it was so far from the road. All the kids swam near the bridge, using it as a diving platform.

The farther I moved away from the road and the deeper into the woods I walked the more relaxed I grew. I loved the woods. I only felt free when I was alone in the deep woods. I started stripping even before I reached the swimming hole. By the time I broke through the thicket of mulberry bushes and into the clearing of the swimming hole, I was already naked. Not only naked but playing with my dick. There was nothing I enjoyed as much as jacking off in the woods.

Well, I didn’t see the old man sitting on the bank of the creek fishing with his reed pole smack in the middle of the swimming hole until I was only a few feet from him.

“Shit!” I exclaimed upon spotting him as he set on a five-gallon paint buck turned up side down.

“My, my, looks like I got company.” The old man called out to me. He smiled. “Doesn’t look like you came here to fish, even though you brought your pole.” He added and laughed.

I froze. I recognized the old man. He lived in a fancy brick house a couple miles away. He had moved down from Atlanta and build the house a couple of years ago. I had heard rumors that he was queer from the guys at school. I used to walk by his house hoping that he would see me and maybe I could make contact with him, but I had never seen anyone when I passed his house.

“Was going swimming.” I told the old man as I took a really good look at him. He was short and soft looking. Like he’d never really done a good day’s work in his live. His hands were small like mine but not rough. They looked like more like the hands of a woman than a man’s hands. Still, with his white receding hair and round face with big piercing brown eyes, he was damn good looking. I figured he was near seventy.

“Yea, but I bet you were going to do something else first.” The old man accused as he eyed my engorged dick. “That’s a nice fishing pole you got there.” He added sill eyeing my dick.

“I . . . I was just thinking about my girlfriend.” I lied.

“Well, I bet she loves your fishing pole. You use it on her very often?” The old man asked.

“Sure.” I said and my answer didn’t even sound convincing to me.

“Of course.” The old man responded as he moved his free hand down to his own crotch. “I bet you pump here almost every day.” He added as he grabbed the tab of his zipper and unzipped his tan slacks. “Does your girlfriend ever suck your dick?” He asked as he reached his finger inside his open fly.

“Ah . . . no.” I stuttered. My eyes were locked on the old man’s hand reaching into his fly.

“You ever had your dick suck?” The old man asked as he slowly began to pull something out of his fly.

“No, Sir.”

“It feels wonderful. I used to get my dick sucked almost ever day in Atlanta.” The old man told me as he pulled his pale old pecker out of his fly. I sucked my breath in at the sight of the old man’s dick. It was beautiful, pale, cut and thick and pinkish in color. “Wish I had someone around here to suck it.” The old man said as he dropped his fishing pole and spread his legs so that I could get a good look at his thick beautiful dick. “You know of anyone that likes to suck cock?” The old man asked.

“No, Sir!” I responded defensively. But I couldn’t stop myself from stepping closer to the old man. “Looks nice. It so thick. Never see on that thick before.” I found myself saying.

“Come here and grab a hold of it and see just how thick it is.” The old man urged. “Come on.” He added. “Nothing wrong with playing around a little.”

I moved closer.

The old man let go of his dick. It stood up as stiff and as hard as mine.

I suddenly found myself bending down in front of the old man. The nearness of his beautiful thick dick intoxicated me. I couldn’t stop myself from reaching my hand out and touching my fingers to the big pinkish head of his thick dick.

“Oh, that feels good.” The old man said in a tone laced with pleasure.

I closed my hand round his dick and was shocked to see that my short thin fingers couldn’t reach completely around his thick dick. I felt a rush of pleasure as I moved my hand up and down the shaft of the old man’s dick.

“Kiss it.” The old man called out.

“What?” I asked.

“Kiss it.” He repeated.

I wanted to so bad, but I hesitated.

“Come on and give it a little kiss.” The old man urged.

“Just a kiss.” I said even though I knew that I was going to do more than that as I bent over until my face was between the old man’s wide spread legs. I did plant a soft kiss with my lips on the tip of his fat dick head. But in the next instant I opened my mouth and took his entire dick head inside.

“Yes! God! Yes!” The old man cried out. “Suck it. Damn, I haven’t had it sucked in months.

I felt guilty sucking the old man’s dick, but I couldn’t help enjoying myself anyway. The taste of his dick was sweet and manly. And it stiffened more and more that longer I tongued the shaft as I sucked on it. “I’m queer.” The thought came to me like a bolt out of the blue. Sure I had sucked cock and been fucked by old men before, Hell, even my own father. But even though daddy always called me his queer boy when we were alone, until now I had never really considered myself queer.

“Fuck. I don’t care. That the way I am.” I thought defiantly and didn’t stop sucking the old man’s dick. But the guilt was lifted from me. Suddenly I realized that I wouldn’t ever feel guilty about sucking or getting fucked again. I was queer and that was that.

“Boy, you sure know how to please an old man’s pecker. Damn, it been years since I got such a wonderful blow job. You are something.” The old man said as he grabbed my head and forced his dick even deeper in my throat. I like him forcing his dick down my throat, making me his boy. I worked my tongue up and down the sides of his old dick as best I could. I wanted to give the old man all the pleasure I possibly could.

“You going to make me squirt!” The old man shouted so loud that I feared he could be heard all the way back to the bridge. “Take it, Son! Take all of my load.” The old man said as he held his dick as deep down my throat as he could while he shot his cum down my throat. “God, that was wonderful.” The old man said as he pulled his dick out of my mouth. “I wish I could get you off but once I cum, I’m all done for it.”

“Will you watch me jack off?” I asked as I stood tall in front of the old man.

“Sure, Son. You go right ahead.” The old man said as he stared at my dick.

The sight of the old man watching me sent a wave of pleasure over me. My dick which was already hard swelled up even larger until it was painful. But that didn’t stop me from jacking it faster and faster as the old man set there watching me intensely. He even smiled as I grabbed that base of my dick and held it still so that he could see just how thick and long it was.

“You got some pecker on you for such a skinny boy. Damn it is isn’t a man-sized dick.”

The old man’s words sent me into spasms of pleasure. My entire body began to shake as I pumped my thick long dick under the watchful eyes of the old man. Then cum flew out of my piss hole. It streaked through the air and some of it landed on the old man’s canvas shoes and some on the leg of his slacks.

“What a load. Only a youngster can shoot a load like that.” That old men said not mad at me for having shot off on him.

“Sorry, I didn’t me to cum on you.” I said as I began to dress.

“Hell, I’ll jack off tonight remembering it.” The old man said.

“I got to be heading home, it getting late.” I said. “But I hope to see you again?”

“I come down here fishing a couple of days a week, but you can stop by my house if you like.” The old man answered. “You know where I live?”

“Yes, Sir. I used to walk by there hoping you would come out and talk to me.” I confessed.

“Well, Son, I wish I had. I sure wished I had. I guess we can make up for lost time. You just stop by any time you get horny and I’ll take care of the big boy dick our yours.” The old man said.

And I did. I stopped by the old man’s house until I left home and moved to New York City. He and I had some fine times.