A COUPLE OF SWELLS
Part 2
THAT OLD FEELING
Adelaide Peppeto, worked for Harold four days a week as his housekeeper. She did light housekeeping and kept the bathroom and kitchen spotless, plus doing laundry. She would take one day, to go grocery shopping. Harold was no longer driving and shopping was a chore, but not for Adelaide.
"Mr. Harold, why are you yelling? Said Adelaide
"It's my shoe"
"What is wrong with your shoe? My goodness you have more problems."
"I can't get the damn thing on my foot. I bend over but I don't reach. I pull my leg up and I get a cramp"
"Here, let me help. What a man, complain, complain. Said Adelaide. She helped Harold with his shoe then went into the kitchen.
"I'm making you a sandwich; she cried out; I have to leave early today"
"Good – good, leave early, I don't want a sandwich" said Harold "I am getting company in an hour."
"Who's coming? She inquired
"A predator, one of those sex guys who aren't too fussy." Answered Harold
"Be serious" said Adelaide
"Serious, I am serious. I have been talking to him on the computer and he is stopping by for some tea"
"What did you do; say you were forty with blond hair?"
"No, I said I was eighty with wrinkles" but he's no kid either, so okay it will be" said Harold
Adelaide put everything away in the refrigerator and spoke again to Harold.
"I don't like this idea. You don't know this person, such a putz you are lately."
"Stop worrying, I know him; it's Solly."
"Yee God - Sol, another putz. I give up with you Harold; you told a lie" she said
"No I didn't, Sol and I talk on the computer. We do email. It's that thing where you write and hit send."
"I know what email is; good grief, see you Friday" said Adelaide
"Friday? - That's tomorrow," replied Harold
"Good – senile, you're not and she closed the door behind her.
Sol was not stopping by. Harold made that up. He didn't consider it lying, but rather a senior license to say what he pleased. It's uncomplicated that way.
He had never been married officially, but in his hay-day, would say every fuckee was like being on a honeymoon. Some nights were terrific and some you just wanted to stay drunk. The best think about company is when they leave.
He was acquainted with a Puerto Rican man for years; thirty some years to be exact. They first met, of all places, cruising Central Park in the early evening before it was even dark. His name was Rudy and in his forties. Harold was about fifty three at the time.
Rudy was a masculine married man with style and rather fine. Harold took to him right off. Nothing is without risk
Rudy was looking for a blow job that evening, and Harold was looking for cock. A match not made in heaven, but in Central park. You never know where the bushes will lead you.
Rudy had big balls and a dick that could raise the hair on the back of your neck.
This is what he told Sol about Rudy, on one of his bragging sprees.
Sol had a comeback for everything.
"Big balls with a super dick, is freak economics. I suppose you said afterwards; "I had a wonderful evening, whoever the hell you are."
"What should you know about economics – freak, I get it. Smarty pants, who knows nothing; he told me his name was Rudy. This I have been telling you."
Day after day, it was the same thing; they would bicker about almost everything.
"Click your heels together and get the hell out of here, Harold would end up saying." They were the odd couple who were unquestionably odd.
"Take it easy Harold and you'll live longer,"
"There are times, when being bad is rather good, that I give you" Sol often reminded him.
"Is there a point here?" asked Harold.
"Just saying," replied Sol
"Nobody will ever take you hostage. There's not enough duct tape in the world to shut you up" Harold shouted back at him.
"Your underwear is too tight," said Sol
"Loose, you putz – too damn loose"
"Whatever"
"Whatever, whatever, - always you say whatever. What the hell does that mean?
"You wouldn't get it"
"I don't want it"
Unknown to Adelaide, it was Rudy who was stopping by to see Harold. This happened about once or twice a year, Rudy was in his seventies now, and it took a while for him to get horny enough wanting to see Harold. Rudy lived in the Bronx, but it might as well have been China.
The doorbell rang and Harold struggled getting up from his favorite chair pausing for a moment, before taking that first step. He was in rather good shape except for the arthritis in his lower back and legs. He also had high blood pressure, and complained like hell, but lived with it.
Rudy came into the house and their greeting was casual beyond description. They were not really friends but polite on the surface and that was good enough.
"How was your trip over" asked Harold
"What trip? I took the subway and it's a ride, no luggage" said Rudy
Harold ignored the remark; he didn't want to start something, not connected to anything intelligent. He was hungry for cock and he knew how good Rudy was in the crotch department; so for once, he kept quiet.
Harold walked into the kitchen with Rudy following closely behind him. Rudy grabbed a sofa pillow, off the couch, and carried it under his arms. He unzipped his pants and stood resting against a counter looking at Harold. The pillow he tossed on the floor.
Harold leaned against the sink and lowered himself on to the pillow. The rest is pretty much routine as far as a blowjob goes. The underwear, the pulling out of man meat, the gasping, drooling... It's all routine.
This time however, Rudy seemed hotter and talked more than he usually did getting sucked off. Harold thought maybe he took a Viagra pill, because he was hard as nails and so horny.
"What can I say – It's a gift" Harold thought silently and feeling extra proud of himself.
"Man your mouth is hot this time and the pressure is better with no teeth. Suck me Jew boy," Rudy yelled out; like he was something special and Harold was not.
Harold didn't care what he said; he was getting what he wanted; and could still suck a mean dick, especially after being called `Jew boy.' He held Rudy's balls at the same time, sucking cock, slobbering and chewing everything. It was tastier, than the reception, at his bar mitzvah.
Rudy was twisting his face with an "Oh my God" expression as Harold sucked the life out of him. His legs began to tremble and his knees lunged forward before spilling into Harold's mouth. He let some run over his chin on to Rudy's balls then licked everything back off again. His face and hand was sloppy wet and he looked like a like an old whore on steroids.
"Fuck" mumbled Rudy. "I'm drained; I hope I can still walk after that blowjob. We'll do that again for sure."
"Help me up" said Harold, leaning against the sink for balance. His legs were not cooperating and he needed something to pull on, to get up."
Rudy helped him to his feet and they began laughing.
"How long have you been blowing me?" asked Rudy knowing damn well the answer.
I follow destiny, but just kids we were; when I got into your pants" said Harold.
"We were never kids. I was a virgin."
"The last time you were a virgin the Louisiana Purchase was in escrow"
"It's amazing; thirty years and you are still sucking my dick. Today was great, you're improving with age."
"Age - only a number; said Harold - experience, now that's what counts."
"That's comforting to hear; how are your knees? You're moving rather slowly."
"For me, it was too much performance in the bedroom, mumbled Harold, but I'm okay"
"We're in the kitchen blockhead. You have been kneeling in the kitchen" barked Rudy
"I know where the hell I am. It's not age, that I struggle with; it's arthritis and don't laugh."
"Do you get dizzy upon standing? Asked Rudy
"Listening to you, now I'm dizzy. You're tired – I'm tired, so I am going to have some tea. Do you want any?" asked Harold
"No"
"Good answer"
I have to go; said Rudy, but we will do this again"
"So go, we have nothing left today to talk about anyway."
"Of course we don't," said Rudy and the door closed behind him.
Harold poured some tea into an old mug with a sturdy handle, lowered himself into his favorite chair, and thought to himself;
"I have to stop masquerading as handsome. Sucking cock out of control is enough to make a freight train take a dirt road. I know this game better than straights know themselves. - Whatever."
Email – Jbalancier9@yahoo.com