Best Sex Ever 19 By Bald Hairy Man
This is a story for adult men. It depicts gay sex. If this offends or bothers you, DO NOT READ IT. It is a fantasy and is not a sex manual, or a discussion of safe sex. If you have, comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com
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I had a special ability to make bad choices. For some reason I thought the old, work hard and put in the time approach to success was old fashioned and took too long. Oddly, no one seemed to recognize my talents. I am also thin skinned and take offense easily. That is not the way to achieve success.
I'm also gay and I had a problem finding long term partners or even friends. I liked flashy young men, and I tended to like men who had the same approach to life that I did. My most recent pal, Lonnie was a user. Eventually I realized that looking at him was like looking in a mirror. It was scary.
I was working as a loan officer in a small bank. There wasn't any future there, but I could at least make a living. I had been use to going to the bars, but that getting was old and tired. Actually I was way too old to shine at a bar.
The bank had a policy of encouraging staff to do volunteer work for local organizations. They sent around a list of potential charities. While I had no desire to do this, I decided it was time to make an effort. Looking over the list one group looked okay. It was called River Friends and worked on cleaning up the river. The other options had to do with helping at risk kids or the elderly. The river seemed harmless.
I signed up and went to a River Friends meeting. I assumed it would be all tree huggers and that was right. All new members had to take a raft down the river to see it up close and personal. The closest I had been to the river was looking down on it from an interstate bridge, so this was a big deal.
I arrived at the boat launch at seven on a Saturday morning and were three other new people and the guide, an old codger type named Randy. I am not a morning person and I was unhappy. Randy looked like Gabby Hayes after a bender.
Randy said the river was high, so it would be a bit rough. He also told us the rules and said they were not optional. Several people died in the river every year and we needed to treat it with respect. The other members of the group were women.
The first part of the trip was easy. The river was placid and calm. Egrets, Herons and Eagles were everywhere feeding. I'm not a bird guy, but they were spectacular when seen up close. I had seen these birds on the television, but never like this. I was use to Robins and other little birds. The river birds were huge.
We came to a group of small rapids and had no problem at all. Fifteen minutes later we came to a bigger set of rapids and that was an adventure. I'm not particularly strong, but I was in good shape compared to two of the women. They did not pull their weight and did nothing. The other women, Liz, was a delicate looking, but she and Randy took care of the right side of the raft. For all practical purposes, I was the only one on the left side.
I managed to keep us from losing control, but just barely. The rapids became rougher as we went down the river, but I became more skilled with each encounter. It was difficult, but I did it. When we reached the end of the trip, I and it were under control.
One of the non-participating women in the group decided to mark the end of the trip by swinging he paddle around her head in celebration. She hit me on the head and knocked me into the water. I was dazed, but Randy and Liz pulled me out.
Liz was a nurse and didn't think I had a concussion, but Randy was worried. The rest of the group went home. I went with Randy to his house. He wanted to make sure I was okay. He lived in an old neighborhood in a restored house. I took a shower and he washed my clothes. I was feeling alright except for a head ache. He gave me a robe to wear after the shower. I sat in a big chair and fell asleep. He went to clean up.
He roused me when he got out of the shower. He was afraid I might have passed out. When he woke me up he was naked and looking good. I prided myself on my ability to judge man meat, but I hadn't guessed right about him at all. He was one of the few guys I knew who looked better naked than dressed. I'm not a size queen, but I was willing to make an exception for him.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"I'm fine, I must have dozed off," I replied. He felt the back of my head. That hurt. He talked to me for a little while. He was not just being sociable, he was making sure I was making sense.
Randy got me a glass of water. He seemed unconcerned that he was naked. The washing machine dinged and he took my clothes out and put them in the dryer. He then made a sandwich and we ate. My headache was fading. I stood up and swayed a little, but once I took a few steps, all was well.
My clothes were dry and I got dressed. Randy took me back to my car. He followed me home just in case I had a problem. Once I was in my apartment he gave me his phone number. I was fine.
I did have one problem. I couldn't figure out how to get together with him again without arousing suspicions. He wasn't my type, but his cock apparently was. Randy must have been fifty or more and was definitely in the old troll phase of his life, I had seen young men with old guys and told myself I would never sink that low.
The next day he called me and asked how I was doing. I said I was fine. "You were a great help on the raft yesterday. We could have had some real problems if you hadn't been there," he added.
"I had a good time, it was fun even with the hit on the head," I said. In some ways that was strange. I hadn't thought I was enjoying it, but I was good to do something totally different from my usual activities. It had been difficult but I had done it. I was proud of myself.
I went to the next meeting and sat next to Randy. There was a program on Herons that was unexpectedly interesting. I recognize a few of the places where the lecturer had photographed the birds. Randy said he was going on the river the next Saturday. I asked if I could come along. That was fine with him. I told me to come by his house at seven. He would drive to a remoter part of the river than we had been the week before.
I was there at seven and we drove a half hour west of the city. We turned down a dirt road and cut through a densely wooded area. We stopped and went the river. Randy had a boat there. The river was placid, but there were many small islands. They were prefect for birds, since few predators would swim to the islands.
We were counting nesting sites. Randy told me how to identify the nests, and I was good at finding them. Randy paddled and I looked. He had sandwiches and he had lunch on one of the small islands. We went nest hunting for a few hours after lunch. It was hot and Randy wanted to swim. "Do you mind if I skinny dip?" he asked. He stripped naked and jumped in. I did the same. Afterwards we sat in a grassy bank.
"Nice view," he said. I looked up and saw he was looking directly at my cock.
"It tastes better than I looks," I replied. That was all that Randy needed. I later discovered Randy liked sex outdoors. He was no virgin and he knew his stuff. When he took a break, I saw his erect cock. It had looked good soft, now that it was hard it was a beauty. I leaned over to suck it.
I've sucked a few cocks in my life, but Rusty's was a magic wand. I loved it and couldn't get enough of it. It was beautiful. I was able to deep throat it. This was the first time I was able to do that. We soon switched to the sixty-nine position.
I didn't know exactly what happened next. The sex was so intense that I forgot myself. His cock seemed intoxicating. It was larger than I thought and was dripping his sex ooze. I wanted it and couldn't get enough of it. As a card carrying gay man, I like cock sucking, but this was different. Rusty was into it too. I began to shoot. He seemed to enjoy my ball juices. As I filled Rusty's mouth, he let loose. He flooded my mouth with his warm man cream. I'm not a cum eater, but I gobbled it up. We calmed down, got dressed and went back to the raft and returned to the city. As I got into my car Rusty said, "I'd like to get together with you again."
"I'd like to do that too," I said as I drove off. I wasn't sure what I felt. The sex had been exciting, remarkably exciting. Rusty was an old man; he wasn't my type. I was confused. That night I became more confused. I was tired after the day on the river and went to bed early. That night I dreamed about Rusty. I actually dreamed about his cock. More specifically, I dreamed about his sperm flooding my mouth.
I have dreamed about men before, but never such a specific part. I couldn't get it out of my mind. It was a busy week at work and I seemed to be confused. I was busy the next weekend. I had to go home for my father's birthday, so didn't go to any river related events.
I continued to dream about Rusty's cock, but eventually I included more of his body in my dreams. I began to think of Rusty as an attractive man. He wasn't the sort of man I wanted to date, but living with him seemed sort of attractive.
My weekend at home was good. It gave me a chance to think. When I came back to town, I drove by Rusty's house. He was working in the yard and I stopped. We talked a little and he asked me in.
When we were inside he asked me if I was there for sex.
"You can read my mind," I said.
"Did I mention that I am a top?" Rusty asked. "Is that a problem?"
"I'm not much a bottom, but I am willing to give it a try."
We went upstairs to his bedroom. I wasn't 100% sincere about being willing to bottom for him, but when he stripped, his semi-erect cock inspired me. I didn't expect that. I'm not usually blinded by a cock. Once I got it in my mouth, it was worse. I had been thinking about his cock, now that I was sucking it, it was better than I had remembered and fantasized. I was even better when I began to suction his ball juices from his balls.
Rusty seemed relaxed, except for his cock. It responded to my every touch. My lips stroked his shaft and my tongue worked his knob, focusing on his oozing slit. For an old man his balls juices were sweet and plentiful. I was expecting the sperm flood at any moment, but Rusty had a long fuse. He seemed to match his actions with mine. He did to my cock what I did to his. It was lovely.
"This is really nice," he said. "I hate to be direct, but I have my heart set on tickling your prostate with my cock. Are you willing?"
"I'm not sure," I replied. "I don't think it will fit.
"I take my time," he said. "Let me confess, I'm not a virgin. I would be shocked of you had a problem taking my cock. If you do have a problem, just let me know. I'm not into pain at all."
Rusty was convincing. I didn't exactly want to take his cock, but I didn't want to offend him. His cock had an almost hypnotic effect on me. He was old, but I think there must have been something in his precum, maybe some hormones. I wanted more.
He got me on my back and nosed his cock into my ass. He didn't push it in, he just nuzzled it.
"Relax, I'm not going in until you let me in," Rusty said.
"That may be a long wait," I murmured. He smiled. Rusty had a big, tender knob and seemed to be self -lubricating. He applied pressure, but not much. Somehow he seemed to get juicer as he pushed.
"Your ass is nice and tight," Rusty whispered. "Tight may be a little harder for you, but it's better for me. You're going to love it when I'm in. I can feel you react already."
"That is just nerves," I said.
"The nerves will disappear in a few minutes," Rusty said. He made a quick motion and his cock was on the dark side of my sphincter. He pushed in as far as my prostate and then rested his cock head against the little gland. My nerves vanished.
Rusty began rotate his hips and massage my prostate very gently. That drove my crazy. It became increasingly intense. I moaned.
"I thought you would like it," Rusty said. "I like to take my time."
Rusty was a superb cock master. I don't know what he did, but he was good at it. He was careful and pulled out when it became too intense for me. He also varied positions. I tried to figure out which position was the best, but I couldn't get my mind straight. Eventually he shot off, but he stayed in my ass. It was good even when it was soft. I squeezed it with my sphincter to keep him excited.
"I'm not sure I will get hard again, but I sure appreciate your efforts," he said. He did get half-hard and that was enough to push me over the edge. Rusty pulled out and licked up the remains of my orgasm.
I went home and fell asleep. I was tired.
I had been fucked before, but it wasn't the same as with Rusty. It seemed as if my previous experiences had been fucking-lite. While I knew Rusty had enjoyed it, it seemed impossible that he had liked it as much as I did. I felt that he had been more interested in my pleasure than his own. I knew he had remained rock hard throughout, so it must have been good for him too.
There was a big change at my bank. My branch manager got pregnant. She had a problematic pregnancy and decided to leave. I became the acting manager. I did well at that. The former manager had been a bit prickly and didn't get along with women well. Most of the staff was female and that had been a problem. I got along with everyone, and I had no tendency to make passes at them. I discovered the bank wasn't actively looking for a replacement. I suspected that if I did well, I would have the job. Being a branch manager isn't like being a corporate president, but it was a hell of a lot better than being a loan officer.
My father had always been a straight arrow and ordinary. He believed that you should do whatever was needed, regardless of your rank. I decided to follow his advice. I helped where ever I was needed, backing up the tellers when they were rushed. I was making more money and things were good.
My work with the River Friends was good for me too. I met some new people and enjoyed my time in the river. Rusty asked me to serve as the group's spokesman. I was a banker, not obviously a tree hugger. He wanted someone who wore a suit, not a flannel shirt.
I was spending most weekends at the river and enjoying it. I was meeting new people and gave up going to bars and night clubs. It didn't miss the loud music and flashing lights. I told Rusty I was getting old. He said he thought I was just maturing.
Rusty went off to California to teach a class for several weeks. He was a recognized expert in River ecology. I took over the river tours while he was gone. That took all of my spare time. I enjoyed going that.
When he returned he called me as asked me over for dinner. We traded news. His class had been a success. He was a good cook and dinner was enjoyable. We ended up in his bedroom. Absence may not always make the heart grow fonder, but it seemed that my ass made peace with his cock. It was still a tight fit, but it seemed easier.
I know some guys who think sex is most exciting on your first contact with a new partner. That wasn't true of Randy. The sex was better each time we tried it. I could anticipate the pleasure, but it was never exactly the same. The subtle variations drove me crazy. He told me I was becoming more receptive. As I relaxed he could go deeper and find more hot spots. I don't know if that was the scientific explanation, but it was the way it felt. I was more comfortable as he took his time.
At the bank I was officially promoted and was sent off to a week-long training session for my new position. This was at the corporate headquarters in North Carolina. This was a big deal since it was route for promotion. I went off to Charlotte and was put up in a downtown hotel. I met another branch manager there, Bert Mills.
Bert was young, handsome and on his way up. All of my old urges came back in a rush. He was the sort of man I had always wanted. My gayar was in working condition, but before I had a chance to feel him out he made a pass. As a card carrying member of the Horney Gay Men's Club, I caught the pass and ran with it.
Burt was slim and elegant, sort of like a 1930s movie star. He was fun to be with and clever. Sex was good, but it was a bit one sided. He liked to fuck, and after my experiences with Rusty, that was a piece of cake for me. His cock was on the high side of average, and fit easily. He liked to pound my ass and shoot off quickly. When he did, he fell asleep immediately.
I understood that. Many men have that physical reaction to an orgasm. After several days I realized that was the extent of his sexual interest. He never seemed to be able to get around to getting me off. He did suck a little, but without much enthusiasm. He told me he had an aversion to sperm and to precum.
Burt wasn't a bad man, but he thought that being fucked by a man as handsome as he was should have been enough for his playmates. Apparently that was the case with most of his friends. When I went home I visited Rusty.
Rusty was in a good mood and I was in the mood. We hopped into bed and he popped into my ass. I don't know if Burt's cock had done something, but this time Rusty's cock was magic. It had always been good, but it seemed to rub everything the right way. I could hardly breathe. Rusty was entirely in control, but he slowed once and a while when he took a break, and switched his angle of attack. That gave me a chance to inhale.
At some point Rusty and I merged. I couldn't tell where I ended where Rusty began. It felt as if I had become part of his cock. I existed only to feel pleasure and Rusty was the only one who could generate that pleasure. We were perfectly matched. At first I thought we were only sexually comparable. While I had resisted admitting it, but it was much more than sex. My Prince Charming was a middle-aged man who looked like Gabby Hayes.