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  • Hi guy
  • I don't usually go to bars, but I heard this bar is one where mature guys hang out. I'm not a kid. At 31, I'm hardly a virgin, but I haven't been with that many men, either. I'm not looking for a "daddy" -- I'm just looking for a man who has some experience and knows what he's doing.

    I've been here about an hour nursing my one beer slowly. You and your friends showed up about 5 minutes ago. I see you checking me out. Thanks. Yeah, I know. Back when you were my age, you probably wouldn't have given me a second look. I wouldn't have been in your league. Back then, man, you probably could stop traffic.

    Back then, I would have been too chunky, or too hairy, or too shy, or too nerdy. I don't care about back then. I'm hoping right now might work out. I think you're very good looking. Yeah, you've gained a little weight (love it). You've got some hair in your ears (makes me smile). Maybe you're even a quarter-inch shorter (don't understand how that happens). But, of course, your dick is the same size as it ever was.

    Sorry. Maybe you don't think it's necessary for guys to talk trash-talk. It's just that I think you're hot. I can't help it. I'm always checking out guy's crotches and wondering what they're packing.

    I've been trying to make eye contact, but you got your friends with you. One of them said something funny. When you laughed, your eyes lit up and my heart skipped a beat. While you were laughing, I got a glimpse of that 28-year-old butt pirate inside you. Yeah, he's still running the show, isn't he?

    You catch me staring. I look down at my feet. When I look up again you're still looking at me. One of your friends gives you a little jab and points at me. Oh, God, I can feel my face flushing. I look down at my feet again. I look up just a bit to see you're moving towards me. I'm getting excited. I wonder what your first words will be. I can feel my mouth getting dry. I'm so nervous. I take a gulp of my beer hoping that'll help. I look up at you and do my best to smile.

    You look me right in the eyes and say, "Hi, guy! How's it going?"

    I nervously look down at my feet again and say, "Fine." Can't be sure, but I'm guessing from your use of "guy" instead of "man," "buddy," or "dude" that you're in your mid-60s or 70s. Sweet.

    Suddenly I can't talk. Oh man, oh man, oh man -- not now! Fuck! You probably think I'm not interested. That's not it. My mind is going in every direction at once. I force myself to say, "Nice weather we're having." Mentally, I'm kicking myself for being such a dope. But, you give me a little smile and start looking at me intently. I think you're sizing me up. Are you wondering if I'm for real? Are you wondering if I'm "differently-abled" (the new politically correct term for retarded)? Or, are you wondering, "What the hell?" cause you're thinking with your other head?

    Whatever it is, you say, "May I buy you another drink?" I can't help getting a big grin and I say, "Yes, thank you." We amble over to the bar. You tell the bartender to get me another one of what's in my hand and you order Scotch on the rocks. The bartender asks if you want a brand, but you can tell this dive has a limited selection and you politely say, "The house is fine." Man, you're a class act.

    We talk some more. We go to the back patio where the music's not so loud. The cigarette smokers are there. You give a shake of your head toward them and tell me that quitting was the best thing you ever did. You ask me, "Did you ever smoke?"

    "No," I reply.

    "That's good," you say.

    I'm trying to think of something interesting to say, but I can't seem to get any words out of my mouth.

    "So what do you do?" you ask.

    I say, "I work for a factory in the I.T. department. I work on the order processing system."

    You smile in a kindly way and say, "Well, someone's got to do it." You tell me about the job you had in the 1950s doing inside sales for an industrial wholesaler. The way you describe it, nothing about order processing has changed in 50 years -- except we use computers to make mistakes faster.

    I ask, "What do you do?"

    You reply, "I do whatever I want. I'm retired."

    "I wish I was retired," I say truthfully.

    There's a long pause. I've been here before. My heart is beating a little faster. You're going to say, "Well, I got to get back to my friends" and I'm going to go home alone and beat off thinking about you.

    But, instead you step closer and rub my back with your hand. I like it. You smile and say, "So, would you like to come back to my place and see my collection of pre-Columbian art?"

    Pre-Columbian art? I don't even know what "pre-Columbian" means. But I can guess you're not going show me any when we get to your place. I smile broadly and say, "Yeah, I would."

    You say good-bye to your friends and I'm not 100Hi Guyure they think I'm good enough for you. Still, you give me directions and I follow you in my car to your place. I try to imagine what your place might look like. I can't think of anything.

    It turns out to be a very nice condominium. In the living room are a big comfy couch and a big recliner chair. There's also a beautiful dining room table with a matching china cabinet and hutch. The dining room table is almost completely covered with papers and stuff -- every square inch. It makes me think you don't have dinner parties very often.

    You ask if I'd like anything to drink. You're so polite to offer me a choice: beer, juice, or mineral water. I say I'd like the mineral water and I follow you into the kitchen. The kitchen is spotless. You pull a couple bottles out of your 'fridge and then reach into the cupboard for a couple glasses.

    "I don't need a glass," I say.

    But you insist. "Drinking out of bottles is only for bars," you say. I like your style.

    After you fill the glasses, I see you reach up into the cupboard for a prescription bottle. You've got several. I look away to give you some privacy, but I'm hoping that you're reaching for Levitra, Viagra, or Cialis. I wish I could tell you that it makes my mind race to thoughts of you and me naked, but I don't. Maybe you don't want to talk about Mr. V., Seor L., or Herr C.

    After you put that prescription bottle back and close the cupboard door, I turn back to look at you. There's something in your eyes I like. That 28-year-old butt pirate is looking at me like I'm going to be his next conquest. Super sweet!

    We go into the living room and you point me to your sofa. We both sit on it next to each other. You're a gentleman, I have to say that. I want you to pounce on me, but you start to ask me if I have any hobbies. When I tell you I got the new Xbox 360, I see you roll your eyes back. Oh, well, I didn't really expect you to like video games. I can't think of anything to say. I force myself to put my hand on your thigh. You look at me a little surprised, but you move in to kiss me. You hold the side of my face with your hand as your lips touch mine. My brain is melting, but something else is now rock hard.

    If it were up to me, I'd be between your legs suckling like a hungry calf, but I don't really have all that much experience. I'm really counting on you to lead the way, so to speak. Plus, I'm guessing we might have a short wait on our hands.

    You pull off my lips and look me right in the eyes. I feel so connected to you. I put my hand on your chest and move down to your stomach. Your hand moves to my crotch and you find my hard. You give me a nice smile and whisper: "How 'bout a shower, guy?"

    Yeah!!! You bet.

    You take me into your bedroom. The king-size bed has a nice light blue comforter on top. It looks pretty inviting. The master bath is off the bedroom. You reach just inside the bathroom door to turn on the light, but you don't go in. Instead you turn to me. We kiss and hug some more. Nice. Then, with your lips still pressed to mine, you start to unbutton my shirt. You pull my shirttails free. You help me slip my shirt off. Next, you pull my t-shirt over my head. You get back to some kissing and hugging. Extra nice.

    I feel your hand reaching to my belt buckle now. Maybe it's too tight so it doesn't unbuckle as easily as you'd like. You separate from hugging me so you can use both hands. You don't stop at just the buckle; you unfasten the top button of my jeans and lower the zipper. Oh, man, here it comes: You're going find out exactly how big or how little my wanger is. But, you don't. You return to kissing me. I feel so wanted with your arms straying lower down my back. You give my ass cheeks a good squeeze. I like that.

    I try to start unbuttoning your shirt, but you gently brush my hand away. I want to see you naked so badly now. Your hand gets back to work at the front of my pants. You start to edge my jeans down my hips. Your hand reaches in and rubs my dick through the fabric of my briefs.

    You let go and step behind me. At first, you arms encircle me from behind, but then your hands go lower. You push my jeans and briefs down together. My bone gets momentarily caught on the waistband of my briefs, but then springs up when it's released. You just hold me from behind. I'm so nervous that I don't got enough dick to please you, but you're making me feel OK about things.

    You say in a low voice, "Turn around." My pants around my ankles make me turn a bit awkwardly. It's like you're inspecting me now. It makes me feel funny, but it's also really hot. You reward me with a grin of pure lust, as your eyes slowly look me over. My dick flexes on it's own and your eyes light up.

    I'm not expecting what happens next. You get down on your knees to help me get my jeans, briefs, and socks off. I'm a little clumsy sometimes, but you don't have one bit of trouble and you don't get up right away. You look up at me and then started to lick my dick. You're good. You're really good. You tug on my balls some and I think I might pop any second. I don't want to come right away. I pull out of your wonderful mouth. I reach to your armpits to pull you back up.

    You pull me into a hug again -- me completely naked and you still dressed. I don't know how to describe it. I'll never be in a skin mag, but you're making me feel like maybe I'm OK looking. I start to unbutton your shirt and this time you let me. You're not wearing a t-shirt, so that sparse silver hair on your chest immediately rewards me. I bend down to lick it. Man, that's great. At the top of your pants, there's a dusting of silver in your treasure trail -- the hair from your pubes that reaches up to your navel.

    Your belt buckle opens easily and I unbutton the top your Dockers. There's a French fly, so I have to undo the second button as well. I lower your zipper. As I slip your pants down, there's a mighty fine bulge in your briefs. I drop to my knees. I lick the outline of your cock and tenderly chew on it a bit. It's not fully hard, yet, but I'm getting a reaction. I pull your briefs down and my heart practically stops. Your cock is fuller, but is still hanging down over a nice set of balls covered in silver fur. I can't help myself. I start licking your balls like the slut boy that I am. I look up at you and see you smiling. You pat my head and playfully say, "Good doggy." Oh, man, I like that.

    Some people say "You've seen one dick, you've seen 'em all." The few I've seen up close and personal have all been different. The head of your cock is a bit more purple than others I've seen. You're cut, but there a wrinkle of skin bunched up behind the head. You let me play and lick and suck for a bit. I'm in heaven. Then, you say, "Let's get that shower going."

    I help you off with the rest of your clothes and I start to move to the shower, but you tenderly take my arm and pull me back into a hug. You reach down to lift my bone up between us. Man, I like the pace of this.

    After some really fine naked kissing, you lead us into the shower. The water gets hot right away. We take turns getting wet under the spray. Then you take the bar of soap. It feels really nice the way you start with my chest. I got some hair, so it lathers right away. You take your time stroking and pawing my stomach. I'm shy about that. I know I'm too fat, but you're making me feel pretty OK. When your soapy hand grasps my dick, I practically shoot right then and there. Thankfully, I don't. I love your hand on my balls and that bit of exploration you're doing between my legs. It feels so good.

    "Turn around," you say and you start to soap my back. Your hand moves lower to my butt. I lift up my foot to the side of the tub so you have some more room to work. Oh, yeah, you're getting your good doggy nice and clean back there. I can tell what you want and I want it, too.

    Now it's my turn. You let me stand behind you and reach my arms around to wash your front. I love sliding my soapy hands under your arms, across your chest and stomach, and down to your manhood. It's definitely getting bigger. Next I wash your back and butt cheeks. I don't go too far there. Don't want to send the wrong message.

    We rinse off and you shut off the shower. You hand me a towel and take one for yourself. You look good with your hair wet and uncombed. You take me back to the bedroom and pull the comforter completely off. You pull back the blankets and hop on the bed. You don't have to ask me to join you. We lie there in a naked embrace. I can feel your wood is now a study log. Gotta taste it again. I lean down and take you as far as I can in my throat. Man, do you taste good. You move so you can get at mine. I'm a little taller than you, so it doesn't work perfectly, but that's OK 'cause what I really want is your cock in my mouth.

    I lift off your cock and get my head back to yours. I roll onto my back and you climb on top of me. I spread my knees and you start to rub your cock in the space between my balls and thigh. Oh, yes, that's right.

    You pull back and your cock drops down to my ass. You're sliding the top of your hard along my crack. I can't help but make a little face. We haven't discussed condoms or stuff. You're watching my face and push yourself up on your knees. You reach over to your nightstand and fetch a condom and some lube. I enjoy seeing your cock sticking straight out. It doesn't point up like mine, but it sways good and strong as you return from reaching to the nightstand.

    In a heartbeat, you get that rubber unrolled down your shank and you slather on some lube. You put some in me with your finger. You bore into me with you eyes fixed on mine as you start to bore into me with your cock. Man, is that great.

    You take your time working your cock into me, but I still lose my hard. Once you're all the ways in, you reach down to stroke my dick and my hard returns. I really like that.

    You lean down to kiss me while we're doing it. Nice. I'm really liking this. At times you fuck me hard and fast and other times you slide slowly in and out. I'm practically cross-eyed with pleasure. Then you gruffly whisper: "Turn over."

    You bet. You pull out of me and I get another great look at your hard cock. I turn onto my stomach. This time, you slide right in. You lie full on my back and curl your arms under my pits. You're tender and forceful at the same time. You want me. You desire me. I can feel that with every nerve in my back.

    You pick up the pace. You push yourself up by your arms and really start to pound my ass good. Yeah, your breathing gets harder, but it's your cock getting harder that makes me think you're getting close. I lift up my ass a bit so you can get in deeper. When you come, I feel two things all at once. Yeah, man, I can feel your cock in me throbbing like a fire hose out of control and I also feel really satisfied and alive 'cause I made you come.

    But, we're not done, yet. You fall on my back with your heart beating fast and you're a little winded. Man, that feels good, too. You don't get soft right away and I luxuriate in the feeling of still being connected physically. After a nice long time of you nibbling and kissing my cheek, neck and ear, you roll us over on our sides.

    Your cock slides out of my nicely used hole. You let me roll onto my back and you kiss me deeply and hungrily. I reach down to my dick for some relief. Your hand shows up. You got some lube on it and you start to stroke me. Our lips are locked together and my dick is feeling really good. But, you don't let me come right away. Somehow you know when I'm just at the edge and you back off. I squirm in your arms, but I like it, too. I'm self-conscious that you want to pleasure me. After a few rounds of edging, you bring me off to an explosive orgasm. My whole body shakes. My cum is all over my stomach and chest. You tenderly frig my dick some more. That makes me shudder and you let go.

    You let me catch my breath a bit.

    Now the hard part. Are you gonna push me out the door or ask me to spend the night? You say, "Let's get cleaned up." We hit the shower again. You don't say too much. You're good about washing my back, but this time, the shower is all about getting clean. We dry off again.

    I've done this before -- not a lot, but enough to know what "Thanks and see you around" means. That's what I'm expecting you to say. I reach for my briefs and start to step into them.

    You pat your hand on the mattress of your bed and say, "You won't need those while we're sleeping, guy."

    Oh, man, the grin on my face is ear-to-ear.



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