This story, depicting sex between an eighteen-year-old male and an older man, is fiction and completely a product of my imagination. The author retains all rights to this work. If you enjoy it, tell me so at er14990606@gmail.com.
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I awoke and lay in bed for a few minutes before opening my eyes. It was dark and two o'clock in the morning when I went to bed. Now it was bright sunlight outside, and the clock on the side table said it was nearly eleven. I crawled out of bed and walked naked to the bathroom. I splashed water in my eyes and stared into the mirror at the sleepy face of a new high school graduate.
The graduation exercise was emotional for the participants and their families, but it was basically the same ceremony experienced by all high school graduates. A reception followed. Then the fun began. My best friend, Michael, had a party at his home. His parents retreated to their upstairs bedroom, and the happy graduates partied downstairs and in the backyard around the swimming pool. There was beer, music, lots of laughs, with several people pushed into the pool to the amusement of all.
About ten, Claudia and I locked ourselves in Michael's bedroom and fucked, much like we had done each Saturday night for the last year. After taking Claudia home at midnight, I went back to Michael's, finding him alone at the pool in a lounge chair drinking a beer. I joined him. Then we went into the pool house, stripped off our clothes and sucked each other's dick. We had been regular suck buddies since the 9th grade, both enjoying having a cock in our mouths and shooting our own cum down each other's throat. I thought nothing wrong or contradictory fucking Claudia and sucking Michael. It was all sex, and I liked it.
I lived in a small town in a rural county two hours outside of Atlanta. This was in the past when one's sexual preference was not a subject of public discussion. This was before gay celebrities, gay athletes, gay politicians, and gay marriage. There have always been men who favored the company of other men, but at the time of this story, these desires were closeted and hidden.
Many of my classmates planned on college in the fall. Others intended to continue farming like their fathers. I joined the Army, not because I was attracted to the military, but because I was completely undecided of what to do next in my life, and since in those days all young men were subject to the draft, I chose to go into the Army for two years and get my obligation out of the way. I had orders to report to Fort Bragg for basic training the first of September.
I had no fear of the physical demands of the Army. I was a runner, having been on the track team in the 9th and 10th grades. I still ran regularly but not for the team. Instead, for the last two years of school I devoted my energies to putting some muscle on my lanky frame by lifting weights in the garage. I was pleased with the results--nice arms, good looking chest, flat muscled stomach, strong legs.
To fill the summer, I took a job at the local farm and hardware store. I worked in the yard and the storehouse, loading feed, seed, and fertilizer in customer's vehicles.
The store had a building that faced the street. In the rear next to the parking lot was a large metal building where bulk items were kept. One day I was in the storeroom. It was a hot day, the garage door was open, and I had my shirt off while I moved a stack of grass seed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man walking by the door heading to the store. I looked up a few seconds later and the man had stopped and was just standing there looking at me. I turned away and continued my work. I looked up again, and he was gone.
Perhaps ten minutes later, I heard over the intercom "Customer to the storeroom" meaning someone was coming to get some bulk items which I would take to their car. I put on my tee shirt since I would be interacting with the public. The man who was watching me earlier appeared with a receipt for a large bag of fertilizer.
He gave me a smile as he handed me his receipt. I put the large bag on a wagon and walked with him to the parking lot.
He asked me my name, and upon hearing it, he mentioned my father and asked, "Are you his son?"
"Yes, sir," was my answer. The man said he knew my father in high school. The man said he had left for college, lived in Atlanta for many years, and came back two years ago.
I put the bag in his trunk and closed the lid. The man was holding a dollar which I assumed was a tip. It was hot, and I pulled the tail of my tee shirt up to wipe the sweat off my face, exposing most of my chest. When I took my shirt from my eyes, I saw the man looking at my chest, and then he put the dollar away and gave me a five. I expressed my thanks for his generous tip.
That night, I mentioned the man's name, Roger Kirk, to my dad at the dinner table. Dad said, "He is an accountant who does work for various businesses around the county. His mother lived here and got too old to care for herself, but refused to go into assisted living or move to Atlanta to be with him. So, he came back and started a business here. She died last year and he stayed. He's a nice friendly guy."
There was a pause in the conversation. I got up to take by my dirty plate to the kitchen, when I heard my father direct a comment to my mother in a softer voice, "He's one of nature's bachelors."
That was a strange phase and after some thought, I realized what it meant. I also thought about Mr. Kirk's interaction with me in the storeroom. I was intrigued. As far as I knew, I have never met "one of nature's bachelors" before.
I was pleased when two days later, Mr. Kirk called in an order of four large bags of seed and asked for home delivery. I wanted to see how he acted when we met a second time. I used the store's truck, drove to his address, and put the seed in the back of his garage. That day, I was wearing an old tee shirt with cut off sleeves.
Mr. Kirk seemed not to want me to leave. He asked several questions about me, my interests, and my plans. I told him about the army.
He said, "You'll do good in the army. You seem to be in good shape. You've got some muscle on those arms," referring to my biceps clearly exposed because of my shirt.
"Let me see you flex," he said
I proudly pulled up my right arm, turned my fist toward my head, and flexed it hard. "Wow," was his response. Then I flexed my left hand and said playfully, "Here's one that matches."
I said, "I use to be so skinny. I've been lifting weights to add some pounds."
Mr. Kirk said, "Take off your shirt and let me see how you are doing."
He implied that he had not seen me shirtless, but I remembered how he stared at me from the doorway of the storeroom the first time we met. I pulled my shirt off over my head and stood there in what I hoped was good posture to proudly show off my pecs.
I could see from his eyes he liked how I looked, and I was pleased. I found it exciting to be the object of his admiration. He looked at me silently, even dropping his eyes for a moment to look down at my crotch. It was a quick glance, but I noticed it. Looking back at my face, he said with a big smile, "You're looking good." Then his expression changed as if he had drifted away in thought and he suddenly had come back to reality. He tried to act very business-like.
"Well, thanks for the delivery. Here, let me give you something." It was a twenty.
Thinking he was making a mistake, I said, "But this is twenty dollars."
He replied, "I know, but you did more than make a delivery."
As I drove away, I thought about what I had done besides making a delivery. By taking off my shirt, I had given him a thrill. This confirmed what my father had told my mother. I had figured him out. I knew more about him than he knew about me. This gave me a strange sense of power, and I looked forward to our next meeting.
I next saw Mr. Kirk four days later, when I had another delivery to his home. It was two bags of mulch. He greeted me warmly and stood with me while I stacked the mulch in the back of his garage.
I finished and then turned around and asked "Mr. Kirk, Why do you keep ordering supplies? None of the stuff you bought has been opened. None has been used."
He seemed fluttered and began an excuse with "Well, I've been busy but I'm going to . . . ."
He stopped talking because I was pulling my shirt over my head.
"What are you doing?" He said while looking at my body.
I stood there shirtless and said, "I think this is the reason you order supplies."
He started again with his excuse, "I have just been so busy at work . . . " He stopped in mid- sentence and said, "You are gorgeous."
I put my thumbs in the waistband of my shorts and said, "Do you want to see the rest?"
His mouth dropped open in surprise. There was a pause, then he said "Yes."
I dropped my shorts, stepped out of them, and stood there with my hands on my hips. My cock was filling with blood and soon was at full erection. He was staring at my dick. I could see the bulge in his own pants. He looked at my face and then at my dick and said, "Can I . . ."
Before he finished, I said, "Yes."
He dropped to his knees, I walked to him, he opened his mouth, and I put my dick in. He closed his mouth around my dick and began to suck me. It was so wet and warm, feeling so good as his lips slid back and forward on my shaft. I just watched, enjoying seeing my dick disappear again and again between his lips.
I fully understood what was happening. This wasn't another hormone driven teen wanting to get off. This was a grown man, a man my father's age, who wanted my cock, wanted to suck me, wanted my cum.
He gave me the best suck I had ever received. It swept me swiftly toward a climax. I was getting close and I began moving my hips, ever so slightly, left and right, back and forward. He wrapped his arms around my thighs and increased his motion, sensing that I was near.
I uttered a long "Ahhhh" as I filled his mouth. He continued after I had finished, still holding my dick in his mouth as I began to soften. It was a tremendous climax.
I was elated, ready to thank him, to praise him, but I was speechless when I saw the expression on his face. It was the look of horror. He had yielded to the true desire deep within him, but he had violated his rule that he would never express his real nature in our rural conservative town. He could do this in Atlanta, where he retreated each weekend, but not here.
I said nothing. He did the same. I dressed in silence, and as I walked toward the truck, he tucked something in my pocket. Later as I drove back to the store, I pulled out of my pocket a fifty-dollar bill. Why, I wondered? Was it appreciation? A payment for services? Perhaps a bribe, in hopes that I would keep quiet what he had done? He had no reason to be fearful, for I would never betray him. He didn't understand my motive at all.
I was exploring. I wanted the experience of sex with a gay guy. My friend Michael sucked me because he wanted me to suck him. I sucked Michael because I loved a dick in my mouth. Getting sucked off by Michael was for me an added benefit. But Mr. Kirk was different, and I fantasized about things he and others like him did in bed.
I had deliveries the next afternoon, and I drove out of the way to see if Mr. Kirk's car was at his house. It was not. When I finished, I drove again by his place. This time he was there, and I parked the store truck in the driveway, walked to the door and rang the bell.
He had a look of surprised when he opened the door and said, "I didn't order anything from the store,"
"I know," was my response as I walked past him into the living room. I turned to him and handed him the fifty-dollar bill he had given me last night, saying "This is not necessary."
Next, I said, "Where's the bedroom?" as I turned and walked toward the hall. Mr. Kirk closed the front door and followed.
He found me in his bedroom taking off my clothes. Despite his regret for what he had done yesterday, he was no more able to resist now than he could before. He watched with lust in his eyes. When naked, I sat on the edge of the bed with my feet on the floor my legs spread apart leaning back on my elbows. It was an invitation to suck me.
I surprised him again when I said, "Now you strip."
Mr. Kirk smiled but made no comment. He undressed and I got my first look at his body. I guessed he was in his early 40's. He was my height but slight in build. He had kept a youthful waistline, had a nice chest with a fine coating of hair across his pecs, and a happy trail from his navel to his crotch.
He had a great looking cock. It was hard and pointing straight out from his body. Nice length, nice girth, with the shaft being slightly thicker at the base.
He knelt on the floor between my legs, ran his hands up my thighs, cupping my balls with one hand and taking my shaft with the other. He began to suck me and it was as exciting as before. It was pure pleasure.
I watched his lips slip over the head of my cock and then slide down my entire shaft. Then his lips retraced their route to where he was at the tip of my cock. He licked the slit, and once again took all of me in his mouth. With my dick in his mouth, his hands wandered, across my abs, up to my chest, and back again. I liked that he appreciated my body and not just my cock.
After several minutes of pure joy, I stood up, pointed to the place I had been on the bed, and said, "Now you sit down." Mr. Kirk take my place, and suddenly I was on my knees with his cock in my mouth. He exclaimed, "Oh, Fuck!" He seemingly could not believe what I was doing to him. I loved to suck cock and his tasted so good. I was going to give back to him as good as he had given me.
Each thing I did seemed to surprise him, and he uttered soft moans over and over again. I sucked his dick and licked his ball sack. I rose to my feet and ran my tongue up his happy trail to his navel. I went higher and bit his nipples and rubbed my face across the hair on his chest. At that moment, I was braced on my arms above him, and I looked into his eyes. I leaned down and kissed him. It was my first time kissing a man. He responded, wrapping his arms around me and pushing open my lips with his tongue to find mine. I enjoyed it.
Another surprise was next. I stood up, spit into my hand, and wet my dick. I raised Mr. Kirk's legs up and back, exposing his hole. I put the head of my cock on his closed puckered door. Mr. Kirk knew what was coming and said "Yes, yes, please, yes."
I pushed and he opened. I entered him and buried my dick completely. I had never fucked an ass before, and sensation of his body holding my dick felt wonderful. I fucked him, not rushing, but taking my time to extract as much pleasure as I could from his body. I could tell from the moans of the man under me that the pleasure was mutual. My cock was doing its duty and I was proud.
My thrusts, eventually rapid and hard, made him inch forward on the bed. He was working his dick furiously with his hand. As if on cue we both went over the falls, cum spraying through the air, cum washing his insides, groans and moans from us both. I began to soften, I withdrew, and sat on the bed beside him.
He looked up at me with wonder in his eyes. It was the opposite of the day before. Today he had given himself up to his deepest desires and was happy about it. Yesterday he was mute. Today he would not stop talking.
"Holy Shit! You're incredible! I can't believe it. I have been seduced by an eighteen-year- old. It's should be the other way around. But I am glad, because I would never have made the first move. I need an explanation. Why did this all happen?"
I smiled and said with a twinkle in my eye, "I wanted to know how it was to have sex with one of nature's bachelors."
He laughed and said, "Boy, what a phrase. But that's what I am. Nature made me this way. So, you have never had sex with a gay man before?"
I said "no."
Then he said, "Well, I am glad you chose me to be your first."
We sat there in a moment in silence before he said, "I still can't get over it. You are unbelievable. You fuck like a stallion and suck dick like a champ. You haven't done this before?"
I told him I had a suck buddy, that I had fucked a girl but never a man and never an ass, and that he was the first man I had kissed. He responded with more praise, "You're good."
I was bold in initiating our encounter, and I was bold again when I said I wanted to come back sometime when I am not making deliveries. We agreed to meet in the evening several days later. To avoid the eyes of suspicious neighbors, I met him in a supermarket parking lot, got into his car, and I dropped out of view as we drove up his driveway into the garage.
On the drive there, he said, "Let's quit this `Mr. Kirk stuff.' I have had your dick in my mouth, and in my ass, so I think that qualifies for you to call me Roger."
Our encounter that night was different. He was now my mentor, my teacher, showing me the wonders of man-sex. We kissed and sucked dicks, and then I fucked him again, but this time with him on all fours with his face on the bed and his ass in the air. Afterwards we lay there, side by side in the dark and talked.
I had experienced a tremendous climax, but the circumstances were so new and novel to me that my excitement continued. I was lying next to man twenty-four years older than me who has offered his body to me, who will take my cock in his mouth or in his ass for my pleasure. That thought was a powerful aphrodisiac.
In a short time, I said, "Give me your hand." I took it and placed it on my erect dick, hard again.
"My, God! You are unbelievable," he said as he held and squeezed my dick.
I said, "I want you again, now." I turned him from his back to his side and moved up to him, my chest against his back and my dick at his hole. He raised his leg to ease my entry, and I was in. I started fast and hard and soon dumped another load of cum deep inside him.
Thus, it was for the rest of the summer. We frequently fucked, but I told him I liked to suck cock, so many times we sucked while laying head to foot and swallowed each other's cum.
Sometimes he rode my cock as I lay on my back. He would fuck himself as I jacked his dick with me coming in his ass and he coming all over my chest. Afterwards he would feed me his cum with his finger.
I asked and he told me about his gay life. He had a studio apartment in Atlanta, where he spent most weekends, before he met me. There was a bar where he went to eat and drink and socialize with other gay men. It had a jukebox and some guys danced together.
He said, "You can freely show affection if you are with someone special."
I asked him to take me there. He laughed and said, "No way. You're underage. It's against the law." He laughed again and said, "So is sodomy, but we're going to ignore that."
He continued, "I wish I could. I want to show you off."
"Then take my picture," I responded.
"Are you serious? Will you let me? I will get the film developed in Atlanta, and no one around here will know."
We got dressed and stood before the camera with a delayed shutter, smiling with our arms around each other's waist. I suggested a picture of me with my shirt off, since that is what first got Roger's attention. He was pleased with his trophies.
Before the summer was over, Roger took my virgin ass. It started with his fingers. He was sucking me. I was on my back but up on my elbows to watch him. He pulled off my cock, held up two fingers for me to see, put them in his mouth to wet them, and pushed them into my hole. He went back to sucking, and brought me to climax sucking my dick and fingering my hole. He was good with his fingers and he could tell I enjoyed it.
He finger-fucked me and sucked me off twice more, then one night he pushed my legs back to raise my ass, and he buried his face in my crack.
"Oh, Fuck!" was my cry as his tongue played with my hole. No one had ever done that to me, and the sensation was so different but so good.
His tongue worked up and down my crack but returned to my puckered hole, pushing on it as if to enter. Then he rose, brought his face up to mine, and said, "I'm not using my fingers tonight. I have something bigger."
I knew his intention and I said in an anxious voice, "Be gentle."
Initially there was pain as his dick head pushed on my hole, but once I opened for him the discomfort was gone, and I marveled at the feeling of his dick going further and further in me. The discomfort returned when he started to move. However, after about six strokes, the sensation I knew from his fingers returned and I began to enjoy it.
My hand found my dick and I began to jerk it. This added to the feelings I was getting from Roger's dick moving inside me. It grew in intensity to where my hand on my dick and his dick in my hole were working together to send waves of pleasure running through my body. My mind added to the pleasure of my body. I thought to myself how it was Roger's dick, the dick I love to see and hold and suck was now inside me.
He moaned, telling me when he came, and with his moan came the strongest thrusts of his body. I was close and I said, "Stay in me" as I furiously pulled on my dick. Then it happened, the greatest climax of my life, with streams of cum shooting into the air and landing on my chest and stomach.
The summer passed quickly, and it was the last night before I left for the Army. We were in Roger's darkened living room heading to the bedroom when Roger stopped us and to turn on the phonograph.
He said "This song is on the jukebox at my bar in Atlanta."
It was a slow tune. Roger came to me and put his arms around my waist. I did the same to him, and we danced cheek to cheek. It was more like swaying back and forth, but I found it very romantic. It ended as I wanted when we kissed. Then we held hands and walked to the bedroom where we made love.
It was a magical summer of sex. I learned a lot. Roger and I enjoyed each other's company, although we never left his house. We had similar interests and personalities. I could tell that he developed a strong emotional attachment to me. I believe he fell in love with me, although he never said it. He talked about meeting me for weekends while I was in service. About living with him in Atlanta after my two years in the Army. I saw my future far different. I saw a series of adventures taking me to places unknown. At eighteen, I was not ready for any commitment.
Finally, September came. I was leaving for the Army. I had my bus ticket to Fort Bragg, North Carolina, and my father took me to the station. We departed with a handshake and a long hug. Roger and I had had our goodbyes the night before.
I sat on the bus by the window, and as we moved along the street, I saw Roger's car parked at the far end of the parking lot. As the bus passed, he discreetly raised his hand in goodbye.
THE END