The Widowers Club Chapter 18
This is a story about man on man sex. If this offends you please do not read further. Otherwise please enjoy this story which is the eighteenth chapter of a longer piece about mature widowers who take care of each other's needs. Thanks to those of you who took the trouble to email me a few lines of encouragement for earlier chapters – such notes are the lifeblood of any author! I'd be very interested to receive your feedback and suggestions for future chapters. My email is zlatyblbec@yahoo.com
I've had a number of emails from readers who've said how they were in a similar situation to the guys in the story, and how they wished there was a similar group of friends in their area. If this is you, why not try to set one up? There are plenty of contact websites available throughout the world where you can be very explicit about what you're looking for. Perhaps even refer people to this story so that they get the idea! Imagine how different life could be...
If you enjoy this story you may enjoy other offerings I have on Nifty:
Story Section(s)
Educating David Historical / College
Nifty is a superb free service for those who enjoy gay themed literature, but does need donations to continue doing its wonderful work.
==============================================================================
"It's hard." I sensed a lot of emotion in his voice. "It's hard to admit, but in so many ways Penny died several years ago. She's living and breathing and eating and sleeping, but she's an empty shell.' He took a deep breath. "I still couldn't bring myself to go with another woman, but I miss intimacy – sexual intimacy – so much. So is going with another man different?"
"I reckon it is," I replied. "You surely can't be expected to become a monk." I reflected for a while. "I think you could even qualify as an honorary member of the Widowers Club. It might even help you in caring for Penny."
o-O-o
Dawn was breaking when I slowly came back to consciousness. It could have been the light that was starting to stream in through the open curtains that slowly woke me, or perhaps the licking, sucking and gentle nibbling of my earlobe that did it.
For a while I just lay there, enjoying the sensations I was feeling around my ear and the warmth of the body next to me. Mark's arm lay across my body and his hand cradled my cock – not squeezing, not jerking it, just cradling it in his hand. He was pulled tightly against me and I could feel his hardness pressing into the clef between my buttocks. As I surfaced from sleep my own penis began to swell.
I'd come to really enjoy my sessions with Mark.
I'd taken him to the clinic a couple of days after our initial hook up where both of us had been certified as being free from anything nasty, and from then on we'd got together regularly when Penny was away at the day centre – basically most Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. As I'd suspected, our raunchy sessions had had a positive rather than a negative effect on Mark and Penny's relationship – Mark had told me that now his sexual urges were catered for there was far less tension at home, and none of the occasional resentment that he guiltily confessed to having experienced in the past.
This was the first time we'd ever spent the night together. Penny was away for the week in respite care. It was also the first time that Mark had had a break from caring for her since her diagnosis, and the man really needed a rest. He was reluctant to "pack her off", as he put it, but his close friends eventually managed to persuade him that it'd benefit both of them.
Which is why he was now in my bed licking my ear and, having felt that my cock was growing, was rubbing the stiffening organ with the most featherlight of touches.
"That's really lovely", I said softly. "What a way to wake up."
He pushed his face nearer to my head and began nuzzling into me.
Over the last few months I'd had more sex than probably in the rest of my life. At first, after my "liberation", much of that had been very raunchy and I'd been insatiable, as if making up for lost time. But lately I'd begun to value the closeness of sharing a bed again, and the cuddling up to another naked man.
His hand flattened and moved to my smooth pubic mound which he began to stroke with his palm. He stopped licking my ear. "Thank you", he whispered. "Thank you for being here."
I moved onto my back, turned towards him and smiled. Then I gave him a peck on his lips which turned into a full and extended French kiss. A year ago I'd have thought the idea of two old men kissing was strange, probably distasteful, and I'd never have been able to imagine myself doing it. But now it seemed such a natural way for two valued friends to show how close they were and safe they felt with each other. Men, especially men of our generation, have spent their whole lives trying to control their emotions, and it's such an amazing release when those barriers get dropped.
As we kissed I turned towards him and our erect penises pushed together. I put my hand over his back and pulled him closer, enjoying the feel of his stiff cock on my own.
Mark's hand moved over to my back and began to work its way down my spine to the clef of my buttocks. There his soft fingertips followed the topmost of the two cheeks and travelled downwards, only just on the inside of that sensitive chasm but not venturing deeper towards my anus, until he reached the top of my leg. He then traced the outline of the bottom of my buttock, and when he reached the side of my body returned upwards towards my armpit.
I was in heaven. Forty or so years of sex with my wife had never been as pleasant as this. It had always been so businesslike. She'd never been into sensuousness – at least not to the extent that I'd have loved and was now enjoying with my male friends – so much of our bedroom life had been spent with me trying to initiate intimate activity (and so, so frequently getting rebuffed). When Anne did acquiesce it was normally with little overt enthusiasm, and everything would be over and done with very promptly. The last six months had shown me how pleasurable an active sex life with others who are also enjoying themselves can be, and I was very grateful to Alan for introducing me to it.
Not that I regretted my marriage one bit. Despite our mismatched libidos I truly loved Anne, and outside of the bedroom we spent decades of what could accurately be described as domestic bliss together. And I liked that aspect of our life so much that I tried to never give her any inkling of my disappointment at the lack of true physical intimacy. I understood that such abandonment wasn't for her, and so contented myself with the occasional quick fuck and lots of wanking, and with all other aspects of our life being great. I suppose some men have the opposite – stunning sex lives but a home that is often a domestic battleground. Which group has the happier lives, I wonder.
I bet many men are in the same situation as I was – very much in love with someone but physically – sexually – totally incompatible. If only we could address this as an issue and sort it out! How much happier would folk in such relationships be if it was accepted that people could indulge their lusts (and kinks) with likeminded friends, totally separate from their life relationship, as just another form of recreation. Is the tie between sex and love so strong that this is always unacceptable? It's not seen as wrong for women to disappear of an evening to the book club to spend hours discussing literature with their (normally) female friends, or for men to spend every Saturday down at the golf club while their wives do other things. Why couldn't the book club unashamedly be a lesbian orgy of half a dozen close friends? Or the golf four be a quartet of middle aged men fucking and sucking each other for an afternoon? Image how much potential tension in a relationship could be removed if this sort of friendly companionship was widespread and known about and accepted by all concerned. It could even make marital sex stronger and better as man and wife explored their needs with others who are just in it for the sensual pleasure.
Perhaps it's a fear that in such a society men would end up preferring uninhibited sex with other men, and women with other women. After all, no one knows a man's body (or a woman's one) than another man (or woman). Each knows what they enjoy, where feels wonderful when stimulated, what type or degree of stimulation works perfectly. And to offer this knowledge to someone built the same is, surely, likely to lead to a better outcome than seeking to pleasure a body which is built entirely differently.
Naked and erect in bed with another male all barriers can come down. Even amongst close friends we often draw blinds to our emotional side – it isn't done for men in our society to open themselves completely to other men. But as well as understanding physical needs, I'd discovered over the preceding months that men do instinctively understand the emotional needs of other men, and that can make the experience of being nurtured by another bloke so wonderful.
Hence as Mark and I caressed each other gently and slowly, and our kiss continued for a long while, I experienced one of my most complete emotional experiences. It was so intense that I almost cried. My dick was as hard as I can imagine a 60-something could reasonably get, and so was Mark's. And as we kissed we rubbed against each other, sliding our pricks together on the mass of pre-cum we'd jointly been secreting.
Mark emitted a deep groan of pleasure which resonated through my body, and I had to reciprocate, upping the pace at which I was rubbing my middle against his.
"I can't wait much longer", Mark gasped. "Let's do the same as last night."
Immediately he pulled away and sat upright, the duvet slipping off his shoulder as he did so. I threw the duvet back off myself and took a good look at Mark. His penis was rock hard and wet through, with liquid oozing out of the slit at the top. I sat up to face him, my own pubic area wet and sticky from prostate fluid, and although I was leaking as well it wasn't with the same sort of volumes that he was producing...
He wiped some of the pre-cum off the top of his penis and reached out and took the tip of my dick in his hand and began to massage in the sticky liquid. I leaned my head back and took a deep breath. I was also on the edge and wouldn't be lasting much longer. I twisted round and grabbed the container of lube from the chest by the side of the bed, put it on the duvet beside us and then lifted myself a little, put my legs on either side of Mark's body then moved myself forward until our pricks were touching.
Before going to sleep last night we'd spent half an hour wrapped together like this, taking it in turns to wank our cocks which we'd placed alongside each other. I don't know what it is about that particular activity, but it really turns me on. Perhaps it's that when the other guy is doing the wanking you really get a feeling of surrendering yourself to him completely. By the time we get to our age men have been wanking for over half a century, so really know how to handle their cock to give pleasure. So to have your own cock attached to someone else's as they wank themselves off means that you're truly getting inside their sensual head and in many ways feeling what they're feeling. Really joining together.
The previous evening we'd swapped a couple of times while we were in this position – sometimes him wanking us, sometimes me – and had eventually both exploded over each other. With our fronts drenched in pre-cum and spunk and lube we'd then massaged the mess into our crotches, laid down and given each other a cuddle from which we'd both fallen asleep.
Now we were embarking on part two!
Mark wrapped his hand around both of our cocks and gently started to wank the two of us. I picked up the lube, positioned it above our dicks and gave the container a couple of pumps, depositing a good amount onto us. Mark groaned again and using the gel I'd covered us in started to move his hand further up and down our shafts.
I looked him in the eye – at that moment they were full of lust and it was clear that all he wanted to do was to enjoy the deep sensations we were both feeling before shooting his load. Keeping eye contact I leaned in to him and gave him a kiss to which he eagerly connected and developed further. Mark kept sliding his hand up and down our greasy pricks bringing me closer and closer to the edge. I reached out and pinched his left nipple – it was already hard and erect, and as I gripped it between my thumb and finger Mark gasped. I tightened my grip – Mark had told me that he and Penny had experimented with S&M in a fairly mild way, and that he got a kick out of the pain he experienced when his nipples were squeezed. Although this sort of thing did nothing for me – I like my nipples caressed and licked and sucked, but nothing else – I was happy to oblige my friend.
One of the things I really like about coming to orgasm this way is the feeling of slipperiness on the connected penises. So I reached over to get the lube again, and gave us another couple of squirts. Then I looked down and watched as Mark continued to wank us towards our climax.
His hand moved rhythmically up and down the shaft – right to the bottom where our dicks met our pubic area then back up to our glans where he'd give a light squeeze and slight twist before going back down again. Little by little he increased the tempo, and both of us started to breath more quickly.
"I'm not going to last much longer", I gasped.
"Me neither."
I looked down at our cocks. Another thing about this position, for me, is being able to watch closely our organs as they move towards orgasm – my mind always turns to erotic thoughts about how often my partner has wanked in his life, how many times he's rubbed and caressed his dick like this to reach ejaculation. All the guys I've done this with have been circumcised, and I love watching how they deal with the different types of cut – high/low, loose/tight – and imagine them decades earlier getting to know themselves. That's something I doubt a woman could ever master – how to properly handle a penis to maximum effect. To a man it's an instinct.
"Close... Very close..."
Almost as soon as those words came out of Mark's mouth I felt his body tense, his balls push in towards mine, and I watched as a huge spurt of semen left the slit in his cock and landed on my stomach. Almost immediately I felt my own orgasm starting – I gripped my legs tightly around Mark's body pushed forward as he had done, let out a loud cry and began to shoot my load.
For the next few seconds we were engaged in a frenzy of pumping and groaning and shooting as Mark continued rubbing our cocks. I leant in to him and we began to kiss, but he kept pumping away. As our orgasm died away our cocks became ultra-sensitive, but Mark just loosened his grip slightly, reduced the speed at which he was rubbing and continued for a while to milk the last remains of our semen out of our cocks.
When he stopped we just leaned forward onto each other, and bearing each other's weight and breathing heavily we took a while to catch our breaths. He nuzzled me and nibbled on my earlobe as he'd done when we were lying next to each other, and I was happy to reciprocate by putting my arms around him and tracing my fingers gently over his back.
Soon our erections had disappeared, leaving the shrivelled remains of our penises, covered in a white foamy mess of lube, seminal fluid and semen. I moved my hand round and began to gently caress our dicks, rubbing the messy stickiness all around our organs, under our balls and into the gaps between our balls and our legs. It was a lovely feeling to spread this gunge around our completely hairless pubic areas.