It was a warm sunny day as I drove up the long hill north of the village of _----- in my pickup. I was remembering one of the days in northern India, driving my Pinzgauer 4 wheel drive up the mountain toward Darjeeling with Carter, my buddy and sometime lover. But that was a long time ago, Carter was still alive then and I was still young and hot - tall, strong and, I thought, invincible. Now I'm 66 years old, running to fat and with arthritic knees and scars all over my body from a life lived on the edge. My cock, which once would slap against my thigh when I showered, now peered shyly from its nest of thin graying pubic hair. It was still impressive when hard, about 8-1/2 inches and heavily veined, but who would see that now? My six pack abs were now invisible beneath a layer of sagging flesh, my once hard pecs were now man-tits. Even my balls sag now, hanging loosely beneath my pathetic old man's cock. I thought of how I pitied older men when I was young - how could they live without sex, adrenaline and heavy drinking in tropical dives surrounded by exotic women and the smell of spices and cunt juice to keep them going? Age sucks, I thought. I'm living on memories, jacking off alone in my dark bedroom, fantasizing about men and women I had known but didn't value enough at the time. But at least I'm still alive, and I'm the only one left. That alone was something to celebrate.
When I rounded one of the many bends in the road I came up behind a group of cyclists also climbing the hill. There were five of them, four guys and a woman, all but one of whom I judged to be in their early 20's. The fifth looked to be about 14 with his smooth hairless legs and skinny butt, and I thought it was odd that he would be cycling with these older kids. Probably a kid brother, I thought.
All of them were in good shape, and I slowed down to drive behind them - the road was too narrow to risk passing them at that point. I watched with fascination as their beautiful butt cheeks moved independently, rising and falling, clenching and releasing with each stroke. I fantasized about stripping their tight bike shorts off and watching them ride naked when I noticed that the youngest one was wearing spandex shorts without padding. Like the others, his hard butt was flexing mightily as he pushed to get up the steep hill and I noticed that his butt had a line of perspiration outlining his crack and his shorts puckered a bit with each down stroke. Because of his age I quickly directed my attention to the woman, who was just as hot as the others, but with long hair under her helmet and a very slim waist. "She's the hottest of the bunch," I thought. My cock twitched at the thought of her naked and that beautiful black hair flowing softly across my pillow. "Oh well," I thought. That was another time, and she's with men ten times as hot as I am now. "Wish I knew her about 40 years ago."
The road at this point was very narrow and I knew I wouldn't be able to pass until they had reached the top, so I pulled over into a parking spot overlooking the river and got out to take a piss. The road was almost always deserted, so there was no risk of embarrassing any other drivers. I waited about five minutes and got back into the truck to continue up the hill. As I rounded the last curve before the summit I had to brake hard. Right in front of me two bicycles lay in the road with one of the guys and the kid sitting on the guardrail. The kid was holding his knee and appeared to be in pain. His brother, or buddy, or whatever, was holding him by the shoulder and looked to be comforting him. I skidded to a stop, and the two of them looked in my direction. I was right, the kid was hurt and his leg below his knee had a lot of blood on it. I got out of the car and ran quickly to them, noticing one of the bicycles had a badly bent front wheel and was obviously a total wreck. "What happened," I asked as I approached them. "Are you alright?
"Tom's bike hit a pothole and he fell," the older guy said. "He's cut his knee badly."
I ran back to the truck and got my first aid kit from behind the driver's seat, approaching them again saying, "Let's have a look." I set the kit down and knelt in front of the kid asking him if it was OK If I touched his knee.
"If you can help, go to it," said the older of the two.
"I have to ask," I said, "It's the law."
"Are you a doctor?" asked the kid.
"No, but I have a lot of experience with wounds and such," I answered.
"OK," he said, "but be careful - it hurts a lot." His voice was deep and rich, with a confident tone that made him sound much older than I thought. Surprised, I looked up at him. I noticed that he had no eyebrows or eyelashes, and that his face was as smooth as a baby's. He had obviously never shaved in his life, which made me think he was even younger than 14, but his voice was much older.
I gently moved his hand away from his knee to look at the cut. They were right, the cut was deep and about 4" long running across the patella tendon just above the knee cap. It was bleeding freely, which was good, as that would lower the risk of infection. I softly pulled the cut open and saw the cut went down into the tendon and possibly further. He wouldn't be able to walk for a while, I thought. "This is going to need stitches," I said. "Let me get the bleeding stopped and I'll run you back down the hill to the hospital in -----." I began cleaning the cut with gauze pads and antiseptic. I planned to use about six butterfly strips to hold it closed, and cover it with gauze. As I did so, I noticed that he wasn't wearing a jock and was getting a hardon. His tight shorts held his cock against his leg, and the spandex was so thin that I could even see the veins bulging along the shaft. It was a big cock, and in the back of my mind I thought it must be at least 8" long when fully erect. He noticed I was looking and moved his hand to cover himself, but of course his hand was not big enough.
"Don't worry about that," I said. "It happens sometimes when a guy is hurt. "Something to do with adrenaline I think, or relief that you're still alive."
As I began applying the butterfly stitches, he relaxed a bit and moved his hand away. "I'm not worried," he said. "Just a little embarrassed."
"Don't be," I said. "I've seen plenty before and it doesn't bother me. And you've got nothing to be embarrassed about. That log is bigger than mine, and I'm no pussy."
Of course it bothered me a lot - I was on me knees in front of a young kid with a magnificent raging hardon, and I found I was a little turned on. My own dick was twitching, and I tried to concentrate on patching him up with my now-trembling hands. I had always been disgusted by men who preyed on young boys, especially those brutal cock suckers who raped and mutilated boys and girls in African villages and Arab cities where I had worked. I found it hard to fight alongside them, knowing they were obsessed with young flesh and the power their weapons gave them over the unarmed civilian population. I had even cut short the lives of a few of them when I was unlucky enough to catch them in the act. Now here I was, unable to stop staring at the boy's cock, with a small drop of wetness at the tip and throbbing uncontrollably with each movement of the kid's leg.
I finished up, and stood, turning my back on the two to hide my own growing erection. Of course the kid noticed, and he said "I see what you mean. That is a big cock." My embarrassment was humiliating as I turned toward the truck to make room for the kid in the front seat.
The older guy said, "Wow, that is a great cock you've got. Who would have guessed?"
Confused, I started moving some of the junk on the passenger seat to the storage area behind the seats. I barely heard the kid say, "I think I cut my butt, too. It hurts a lot and I think it's bleeding. Could you check, Phil?"
"Oh, wow, it's even bigger than the one on your knee," he said, and I turned back with the kit to have a look. I knelt behind the kid and saw that his shorts had a six inch rip over the right butt cheek and a nasty laceration on the smooth white skin. Again I knelt down, and pulled the back of his shots down to get a better look. Now my fantasy about watching them cycle naked returned as I examined the damage to that perfect bubble butt. His gluteus muscle was well defined, with a dimple right at the base of his spine. My breathing became shallow and quick, and again I was disgusted with myself.
As I started cleaning the cut, my hand lightly grazed the inside of his butt crack, and he trembled slightly. "Sorry," I said, "I know it hurts, but there's a bit of glass in the cut. That'll have to be taken out under anaesthetic at the hospital. It's too close to nerves and blood vessels for me to try it here."
"No," said the kid. "It's not that. It just felt great when you touched my asshole. That's not helping my boner any."
"Can I see," asked his buddy as he knelt down beside me. He reached out with his hand and firmly rubbed two fingers on the kid's pink puckered asshole. The kid trembled again, and this time he moaned slightly. I was shocked and angered by this 20 something touching a young teen's asshole and pulled his hand away.
"Look," I said. "Leave the kid alone. I'll not have you molesting this kid. Step back before I knock you back."
"You're one to talk, he said, pointing at my crotch. "You're as turned on as he is."
I realized it was true, but I had no intention of doing anything about it. I'd probably jack off later, but I would be careful to think about the woman who had been with them instead of this innocent kid. I quickly covered the cut with gauze and started to tape it down when the kid trembled more and moaned louder through clenched teeth. Then he relaxed and gave a huge sigh. When I stood up and went around him to go to the truck I realized that he had cum in his shorts. There was a surprising amount of cum, showing as a dark patch on his shorts with drops of cum squeezing through the fabric and dripping on the gravel beneath him. I handed him some gauze and said "Here. Clean yourself up and I'll get you to the hospital. You don't want them seeing that. They'll think we've been messing around with you and we'll both have to explain what happened - and hope they believe us. Give me your phone number and I'll call your folks to meet us there."
"My folks? Why?"
"The hospital won't treat you without parental consent. They'll have to sign consent forms and then take you home."
"Oh," said the kid. "You don't have to worry about that - I'm 24."
"Twenty four? Come on. You don't look any older than 14."
"I know," he said. It's always been a problem for me. It's because I have no beard or body hair."
"Alopecia? That explains a lot. Must be very difficult for you." I was relieved to learn that I wasn't in fact turned on by a kid, but by a mature adult who happened to look like a kid. That explained the size of his cock and the amount of cum he had shot.
"It used to be, but my MBA and law degree usually get respect. I'm a lawyer with ------------,------ and ------ down in the City."
"No hair anywhere?" I asked.
"Nope. You can imagine how I attract perverts and pedophiles. I do have to watch how I behave, and make sure I only get naked in front of guys who know me. Some of them are still turned off, but I have a lot of friends I've known for years, and I'm comfortable with them. I'm relieved to know that you're at least ashamed to have been turned on by what you thought was a kid."
"Me, too" I thought as I picked him up in my arms and carried him to the truck. I carefully set him down in the passenger seat and told the older guy to put the bikes in the back and squeeze in between me and the kid. I turned the truck around and started down the hill.
As we passed my house near the bottom, the older guy said, "That's where you live, isn't it?"
"How did you know?" I asked.
"We see you on the porch every morning reading and drinking coffee. We always comment on how hot you look in your silk robe and your legs crossed. We can see your balls hanging beneath your legs."
"I'll have to remember that," I thought. I hadn't realized that my robe didn't cover me. How embarrassing.