The Widower's Club Chapter 2
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 second 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 line of encouragement for the first chapter – 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
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It was still dark when I woke up. For a few moments I was disorientated and couldn't work out where I was. But quickly the events of a few hours earlier came back to me. I took a deep breath as I remembered, and a thrill ran through me. Had I really done that? Allowed Alan to strip me naked and then to play with my body and suck my penis until I shot my load into his mouth? Instinctively, I suppose, I searched in my mind for feelings of shame at what I'd – what we'd – done. But I couldn't find any. I felt light headed. So happy. It was like waking up the morning after I'd lost my virginity as a teenager in the sixties. I was tingling all over. What harm had been done? We were both mature. Very mature, you could say, even. And we'd both entered into things willingly – at least after a little persuasion from Alan!
Next to me Alan was breathing very gently, obviously asleep.
Continuing to think back to a couple of hours previous I moved my left hand to my nipple and began to circle my middle finger slowly around it. At the same time I began to rub the palm of my right hand all over my chest and belly, relishing the feel of my own body. I wondered why I hadn't done this sort of thing before, when I was in my own big bed, alone. The fact of the matter was I'd never thought about the subtleties of self-pleasure before. Just a quick jerk to relieve the need had been all I'd managed. But the memory of Alan's fingertips and hands moving over my erogenous zones was so strong I needed more, even if I was meeting those needs myself. I moved my legs slightly apart and then back together again, then repeated the manoeuvre, taking care not to disturb Alan. The freedom of my total nakedness felt so liberating. At home, apart from in exceptional heatwaves, I'd always worn some form of clothing to bed. When I'd been tempted to try nudity Anne had been disapproving for one reason or another, so I'd always ended up complying and putting something on. Now I luxuriated in the feeling of nothing but linen sheets next to my skin.
As I dragged my palm across my belly I could feel the dried remains of the mixture of my semen and Alan's spit that he'd massaged into me before we fell asleep. I continued to circle my fingertip around my nipple, which was now very hard, and as I did so felt my penis begin to wake up as well. For the first time It seemed as if there was some connection from my nipple to my dick – that my stroking up top was having an effect down below. For a while I didn't move my right hand from my belly but just kept circling my nipple with my finger as my penis grew harder and harder. It was so relaxing, and as I played I continued to reflect on how the world had changed in the last few hours. I'd arrived at Alan's to watch the match a conventional 60-odd year old widower. Father of two children and as solidly heterosexual as they come. My friend was similar, or so I assumed – almost exactly the same age, same background, three strapping sons. In the space of six or seven hours (I'd no idea what the time was) I'd turned into someone who didn't care about his penis being sucked by his friend, or of sharing a passionate goodnight kiss with him. And someone who wanted to do it all over again.
I reached down to my penis. It was hard but the foreskin hadn't worked its way back entirely. I now drew it back all the way and felt around the rim of my dick's head. It was still moist from the semen and saliva that hadn't managed to escape from the hood. I circled the tip of my finger round the groove, collected a little of the juice and brought it from under the sheets, first to smell and then to taste. I felt my penis stiffen further, and experienced that unmistakable feeling that I was beginning to ooze pre-cum again. It seemed off that I'd now slept alone for months, and had been able to do what I liked with no one to see or to comment or to judge, but until this evening hadn't really thought of indulging myself in this way, to worship my own sexuality. Until tonight a quick wank was about it. But Alan had changed all that. It felt so deliciously naughty – I felt like a boy again who'd end up getting a hiding if his dad knew what he was up to. The butterflies fluttered some more...
I moved my arm across to where Alan was still sleeping, and felt for him with the back of my left hand, very gently so as not to wake him. About a foot away I made contact with his smooth warm skin, and explored very slowly with my hand to work out how he was lying. It was obvious that he was facing away from me as I could feel my knuckles were moving up and down his curvy backside, one knuckle at a time falling into the cleft between his buttocks. With the knuckle of my middle finger resting in the slit between his cheeks I stopped and changed the direction of my caress, now moving my hand down his body until I felt his buttocks begin to curve away from me to join the top of his legs. Then I moved back up the valley until my fingernails were at the small of his back, and repeated the action two or three times. I withdrew my hand and turned onto my left side and began to massage his buttocks with the palm of my right hand, working in tiny circles around his smooth skin. As my hand explored I realised I couldn't feel the jockstrap he'd been wearing when we went to sleep and that he too was now totally naked – he must have woken at some time and divested himself of it although he hadn't disturbed me when he'd done so.
Edging myself closer to him I reached the point where my arm could reach over his body. I then moved the extra couple of inches until my belly was touching his back, and as my now rock hard penis found a natural home sandwiched between my torso and the valley between his buttocks I began to massage his side with long sweeping movements from halfway down his leg up past his backside and stopping just below his armpit. Then back down again. Slowly, gently. Then repeat. And again. And all the time Alan's breathing remained constant. Coming back down from his armpit for the fourth or fifth time I stopped when I reached the top of his leg and diverted my hand over the summit and towards his pubic area.
Again I moved slowly, fingertips caressing first the inner side of his legs, then moving on slowly towards his pubic mound. I flattened my hand and rubbed gently with my palm. There was no sign at all of any hair, neither on his belly or his pubic area. Alan was totally smooth.
I took a deep breath and felt my cock jerk a little. I'd had to shave my pubes when I'd had my vasectomy almost thirty years earlier and remembered going a bit overboard, getting myself smooth right up to my belly button. I remember the feeling of soaping between my legs in the shower the morning before my snip – it was delicious – it made me feel like a boy again, but one who had a huge dick for a child. Unfortunately the prickliness as the hair grew back had been so irritating that it'd deterred me from trying again. But as I continued to explore around that part of his body it seemed that Alan was totally smooth with no sign of any prickles at all.
I moved my hand down towards his penis and for the first time in my adult life felt someone else's dick. I explored gingerly at first, with the tips of my fingers, running them up and down the shaft. His cock was hard, and pulsing gently. I ran my fingers right to the end – to the slit – from which a warm sticky liquid was starting to seep. I ran my fingertip backwards and forwards across the tip and felt the flow increase. Moving my fingertip in small but ever increasing circles I spread his pre-cum all around the head of his dick.
"Hmmmm!" Alan groaned and shifted his leg very slightly. "That feels nice."
I made the old `wankers O' with my thumb and index finger, and slid it down over the head of his penis. I was amazed at the amount of pre-cum he was producing, and wondered if I'd actually made him come. Running my finger and thumb up and down to the top of his dick a couple of times provided a huge amount of lubrication and it was soon wet enough for me to be able to move my hand further down his shaft and start to gently jerk him off. It'd been almost fifty years since I'd wanked anyone off, and I was surprised by how little give there appeared to be in the skin of his shaft. When I wanked myself I pulled the foreskin backwards and forwards over the head. Alan was so hard that he didn't have the extra skin to do this, but fortunately he was so wet that I was able to just run my fist up and down the shaft and stimulate him that way. As I did so I couldn't help but start to hump myself against his back and to lean my head forward and kiss his shoulder.
"That's nice," he whispered.
"What?"
"Everything... Are you sure you haven't had a secret life?"
I continued to wank him, and at the same time to move my hips and grind my dick into his back with more intensity. "What d'you mean?"
"If you haven't done this before then you're a natural." He gave out a groan which I took to be one of pleasure. "This is beautiful. So gentle." He groaned again.
I kept rubbing myself into his back, and felt my breathing becoming heavier. "This feels amazing," I whispered into his ear.
Alan now began to move his hips backwards and forward in time with mine, helping his prick to slide through the ring made by my fingers and assisting my efforts in stimulating myself.
In turn I moved harder and harder against his back, and both of us began to pant with the exertion.
My legs began to tremble, and I could tell that I wasn't far from ejaculating. It was either stop or come. "I can't keep this up much longer. Or I'll shoot."
"Me too," gasped Alan, his voice almost a growl. His hips were now pounding backwards and forward – fucking my hand, in effect. "Go on, come. Come all over me..." Alan then let out a huge roar and I felt him spasm as jets of warm spunk shot out of the end of his dick. My hand at been at the top of his penis as he came, so my palm and wrist was covered by his semen.
This was all too much for me to bear, and I humped a couple more times, then began shooting my own load against his back. Following Alan's lead I gave up all inhibitions and let out a loud roar at each spasm. There was something primal about calling out as the pleasure pulsed through me.
When I was done I didn't stop grinding my hips entirely. Instead I just kept circling them, rubbing my spunk all around Alan's lower back and buttocks. I also kept wanking Alan, albeit very slowly and gently, using his cum as lubricant over the head of his slowly deflating penis. But, exquisite as the feelings I was getting from this were, I was soon exhausted and had to stop. With a huge sigh I let go of Alan and fell onto my back. I kicked off the duvet and lay there, totally naked, my belly and penis covered in my spunk, my heart pounding, luxuriating in the best post orgasm glow I'd probably ever felt.
"That was fucking amazing," I eventually managed to utter.
Alan reached down his side of the bed and flicked a switch which turned on some very low intensity bulbs almost at floor level. Then he propped himself up on his elbow and looked at me. "It was, wasn't it!"
He leant forward and kissed me on the lips. I pushed my head towards him and we joined together in a long snog. His free hand moved down to my now wilted penis and he grabbed it gently. "This old thing's been quite busy tonight, hasn't it. Felt like quite a geyser gushing onto my back." He laughed.
"I'm sorry," I stuttered. "I couldn't help myself. I just had to shoot."
"Do you know what?" He gave me another kiss. "One of the things I really like is being covered in cum. Either my own. Or preferably a mate's."
I looked at him with my eyes wide open.
"See – we don't need to pretend anything now, see. I can say and do what I want." He smiled. "And I like cum!" He reached round to his back and scraped off some of what I'd deposited a couple of minutes earlier. He licked his fingers. "Mmmm! And I particularly like yours!"
He leant forward and kissed me again, this time transferring a bit of my own cum from his lips onto mine.
"Jesus Christ, Alan," I gasped when we broke the kiss, "this is filthy. Filthy but totally wonderful."
Alan turned onto his back, and we lay together with the sides of our bodies, now all sweaty and cummy, touching each other. He laid his hand over my penis and began playing with it – very lightly and almost absentmindedly in the way a small boy might play with his willy without much thinking about it. I reached out my hand and did the same to him. His penis was soft and sticky, and I couldn't resist taking some of the stickiness and licking it. Then, as I savoured it I returned my hand and continued to nonchalantly play with him.
We lay in silence, enjoying that feeling of intense calm that comes after a really good orgasm. I don't know how long we remained there with each other's penises in our hands coming down from our orgasmic high, but at some point we both fell asleep again.