The Widower's Club

The Widower's Club Chapter 9

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 ninth 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 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...

Nifty is a superb free service for those who enjoy gay themed literature, but does need donations to continue doing its wonderful work.

==============================================================================

We didn't go for a shower immediately, despite Alan's suggestion. Instead we lay there, in that lovely post-orgasmic peace, and cuddled and chatted.

The pouch of the jockstrap I was wearing was wet through. Alan put his hand on it and gave me a little tug through the sodden material, then he slipped his fingers underneath it. Once under the waistband his fingertips slid in easily, gliding across my smooth pubic area so well lubricated by the flood of semen I'd squirted.

"Hmmm", he said quietly. "Very sloppy". He flattened his palm and rubbed his hand all around my pubic mound, spreading my cum over my balls and still half hard cock. Then he began tugging at the waistband of the jock, pulling it over my penis and encouraging it down my legs.

I lifted my bum to assist the process, and Alan took the jock off me completely. He then continued to rub the pool of cum that had been contained by the pouch all around me – balls, cock, the cracks between my pubic area and the tops of my legs then down under my balls and towards my anus where it mixed with the lube and his own jizz that had leaked out of me. The whole of the middle of my body was now coated in a slime that was partially personal lubricant but predominantly our mixed seed.

"There's something about being covered in cum that's indescribable," Alan volunteered. "All in all June was very uninhibited but she had this thing about cleaning up after we'd had sex. We'd often lie together and have a quite chat and a cuddle afterwards, but she'd always have to get out of bed and wipe herself first. And throw me a couple of tissues to mop myself so I didn't stain the bedclothes too much!" He laughed. "But I love just lying for a while covered in cum and whatever. Reminds me of when I was a teenager..."

I moved my hand down to the mess that had pooled just below my belly button and began to rub the slime as well. Alan was right – there was something deliciously manly about playing with this very essence of maleness.

"When I was a teenager and knew I was alone in the house," Alan went on, "I'd strip off and lie on my bed, give myself a good seeing to and shoot all over my belly and, if I'd really worked myself up properly, my chest as well." He started massaging my cock. "Then I'd rub it in and lie there until it started to dry."

"I had to be very careful," I confided. "A couple of times I got carried away and ended up with spunk all over the sheets. Then I overheard mum discussing my `wet dreams' with dad and was so embarrassed that after that I'd generally play with myself in bed, but then quickly go to the loo and finish myself off there so there'd be no more evidence left."

"Did you ever get caught?" Alan asked. "You know – en route from bedroom to toilet with a raging hard on all ready to shoot?"

I thought for a moment. "Not that I can remember. I know that if mum and dad were around and I was desperate for release I'd shoot into my hand and then eat the evidence!" I'd never shared that information with anyone before, and it felt good telling Alan. A sort of reinforcement of how intimate our friendship was.

Alan reached down and picked up the black jockstrap. He held it to his face and sniffed. "Lovely," he whispered, and ran his fingers along the inside. "And so wet. You must have blown like a fountain!" He licked his fingers and then the inside of the pouch. "A load like this'll make it all crusty when it dries, and I know someone who'll be really excited to get hold of this next. He'll wear it for days and then add his own load to it."

With that Alan sat up and swung himself off the bed. "Come on! Let's get cleaned up. Then we can give ourselves another coating later on, after the match."

It'd only been a couple of weeks since Alan had brought me out of my sexual shell, and before then I'd never had a truly intimate shower with anyone. Sure, we had a double shower in our en-suite bedroom at home, and Anne and I had often showered together, but she wasn't a great one for letting me soap her or play with her under the flow of water. So the sensations of being covered in lather and sharing a gentle massaging with someone else in a similar state was relatively new to me. And the feeling was exquisite. Even more so because I was now entirely hairless apart from under my arms and for the little I had left on my head, and as Alan's hands slid so softly and gracefully around my whole silky body my penis came back to life.

Alan rubbed down my back, carefully moving into the now totally smooth crack between my buttocks and washing the inside of each cheek with an open palm. Then he reached up between my legs, gently (and erotically) cleaning my anus and the underside of my balls. That done he pulled me closer and rubbed himself against me. The feeling of his stiff prick on my backside told me that he'd come to life again as well.

We turned to face each other, and Alan gave me a little kiss before soaping my chest, belly and now very hard penis. I closed my eyes and moaned. Alan continued to rub the lather all around my front, his aim clearly being to get me cleaned up rather than to stimulate me sexually, but very adequately achieving the latter.

"Let's save this for later," said Alan, giving my dick a final tug. "I take it you will be staying the night?"

"If I'm invited."

"Rog – you're always welcome in my bed," he replied.

o-O-o

There was a Rugby game on the TV so once we'd finished our shower and had dressed Alan opened a bottle of wine and phoned out to order a couple of pizzas. At half-past six, an hour before the game was due to start, the doorbell rang.

"Food!" said Alan. "Thank heavens for that! I'm starving!"

Alan went to answer the door, and returned not with a couple of pizza boxes as I'd expected, however, but with a very tall guy of around the same age as us who was carrying three pizza boxes.

"Roger – George. George – Roger." Alan's introduction was very brief. "You two have met each other before. Quite a few times, in fact. But not for many years, though."

George put down the pizza boxes on the kitchen bench the turned and offered my his hand. "George Smart," he said. "I farm over in Hambleton."

I introduced myself and tried to work out where I'd met George, but with no success. I gave up. "Sorry. I can't say I recognise you, George, despite what Alan says."

"He's being a prat," George replied. "The last time we met we were eighteen, and we've never been formally introduced before."

"Grub's up," said Alan, smiling. He'd placed each of the three pizzas onto a wooden board, and put three plates next to them. "Red ok?" he asked George, before pouring him a glass of New Zealand pinot noir before he had the opportunity to reply.

"George has lived in Hambleton all his life," Alan explained. "And went to school there. And he's pretty much exactly the same age as we are."

I was beginning to tumble where the connection was.

"And so you met George twice every year while we were at the Grammar school – once at home and once away." Alan smiled. "George played in the second row. And like us he never missed a local derby game in the seven years he was at Hambleton High."

I tried to think back to those days, and to be honest I'd even forgotten the names of some of the guys in our team so there was no way I was going to recall someone I'd only met this way, and forty to fifty years earlier.

"Do you remember the famous incident where Tony Tuffnel had a fight with one of their second row and the two of them ended up getting sent off? Fourth year, I think it was."

I hadn't thought about that Saturday morning for decades! "Yeah, I do," I replied. Being sent off in a rugby game is a real disgrace – far more so than in soccer – and in all the time I played, from the first year at high school through university and up until my mid-twenties, this was the only time anyone got sent off in a game I was playing in. I remember a bit about the fight – watching it from a distance, then their teacher who was refereeing the game pointing to the changing rooms and everyone going deadly silent. And the atmosphere of the game then being very subdued for the ten minutes or so left.

"Well", said Alan, "meet Tony's partner in crime!"

George smiled.

`What? It was you?" I asked.

"I'm afraid so." George moved his head to one side as if thinking about the incident. "Never happened again, though. Whether it was the disgrace of everyone looking at us as we walked off, or the six of the best I got on the Monday morning I can't say!"

"How the world's changed, eh?" I remembered that Tony also got caned at break time on the Monday. Both of our schools were very traditional, and considered the boys' actions to have brought shame on the respective institutions. "We had to go down to the changing rooms – all the team that had been playing – and watch as Tony was given six of the best by the coach" I reminisced. "And they looked like really fucking hard ones, I can remember. Mr Goode was so pissed off with him he really laid it on. We'd all had our share of the cane, and Tony was no softie, but this was something else, and one thing I do remember is that Tony had tears in his eyes after the coach had finished with him. And clear marks on his arse for a couple of days after."

"The coaches must have conferred," said George. "Exactly the same happened to me. Morning break. Changing rooms. Rest of the team. And the worst fucking caning I had all the time I was at school!" He shook his head. "The good old days, eh? And then I had to write a letter of apology to your school, for my bad behaviour."

"So did Tony," said Alan. "Formal apologies all round."

"And so fucking unfair," said George. "Your guy started it!"

"I'm sure Tony thought the same," I laughed.

That story was the catalyst for a load of reminiscing about the time we were at school. About how things had changed so radically over the intervening years, but how the three of us all thought that we'd had a better deal on childhood than the poor buggers going through it today, despite the greater material wealth and level of comfort the kids seem to have in the present.

We finished the pizzas as we talked, and were still going back over the events of decades gone by when the game kicked off. By full time we'd managed to finish the original bottle of pinot Alan had opened and to polish off a couple more. Once the end of match analysis had been carried out, both by the professionals on the TV and then, more perceptively and at greater length by ourselves, it was almost ten o'clock.

Alan collected up the wine glasses, and rinsed them under the kitchen tap before setting them on one side to be washed properly in the morning. "Time for bed, then", he said.

Until that point I hadn't been sure. Was George just a friend of Alans? Or something more? The evening we'd spent together so far could have taken place at any time in my life. In fact a group of us had often got together to watch a big match over a few beers or wines and a bite to eat. But when Alan led us down the hall to his bedroom, and both of us followed him in, it was clear that George was staying for the night as well. A thrill ran through my body at the thought of the three of us sharing Alan's bed, and I felt my penis begin to grow in my chinos.

Alan closed the bedroom door and put on the low level lighting he'd used the first time we'd slept together, then went through to the en-suite for a pee.

George turned to me and gave me a hug. It took my breath away – it was so exciting to have this well built and handsome man so close, to feel his warmth and smell his manly scent. He reached under my polo shirt with his large hands and rubbed up my back to my shoulder blades, at the same time leaning forward and kissing me. Then he broke off the embrace and began to quickly undress himself. First he unbuckled his belt, undid the fastening at his waist, pulled down the zip of his fly and let his jeans slip down to the floor. He stepped out of them. He stretched, and as he did so his tee shirt lifted above his belly button so I could see his underwear. He was wearing a pair of white briefs, quite ordinary apart from what appeared to be a very large bulge at the front. He pulled his tee shirt over his head, reached down and took his socks off and then without waiting for any help put his hands either side of his briefs, eased his now erect penis out of them and let them drop down to his feet. For a sixty odd year old bloke he was in very good shape. His penis was very hard and sticking out and slightly upwards from his body. Like Alan and myself he was completely hairless apart from his head.

I was about to take off my own clothes when from behind I felt Alan's hands on the side of my polo shirt. He quickly lifted it off and threw it onto the floor, then reached to my waist and undid my chinos. He pulled down the zip and then dragged both the trousers and the white jockstrap I'd put on earlier down to the floor. Whilst he was pulling them off my feet and removing my socks George leaned in to me and gave me another kiss. Our erect penises touched. The feeling was electric.

Having taken off all my clothes Alan stood back up and wrapped his arms around me from behind. I could now feel his warm skin on me – he'd obviously stripped off in the en-suite – and his hard dick pointing skywards and nestling in the groove between my buttocks. He moved his head onto my neck and began to lick and kiss it.

I put my left arm around George and pulled him closer as we continued our kissing, and reached down with my right hand and grabbed his penis. It felt huge in my hand and my fist barely closed around its girth. My other hand slid down his back and came to rest on his right buttock. My fingers grasped the beautiful roundness of his firm cheek. Like the rest of his body it was as smooth as silk and so very hard and muscular. This was a tightness built over decades of throwing hay bales onto the back of flatbeds rather than in the gym. I ran my hand across his bum then up his back. He was solid muscle. The feel of such firmness turned me on so much I couldn't resist letting out a little groan of pleasure. I pulled him closer too me and began moving my body very slowly, luxuriating in the feeling of man skin rubbing against both my front and my back.

George reached down and grabbed hold of the tip of my foreskin with his fingertips and began to squeeze gently, pushing the head of my penis inside so that the whole of my foreskin was in front of my dick, then loosening his grip slightly to let the head slip back and fill it again. He kept this milking action up for several minutes as I got harder and harder. I kept caressing his penis in return, but found no foreskin with which to copy what he was doing to me, so I just squeezed him gently with a pulsating rhythm, from time to time running the tip of my thumb over the slit at the top of his cock. After a short while I sensed a wetness as the seminal fluid began to seep out of him. He gave a short groan now, and I moved my left hand from his bum to the back of his head, drew him towards me and started to kiss him passionately, my tongue pushing into his mouth and exploring his teeth. I pushed the front of my body into his, so turned on by the power and strength of this giant of a man who was sharing his body with me.

Alan's hands were sandwiched between myself and George and he played with my nipples as George and I wanked each other's cocks. He continued to rub himself against my back, his penis moving variously across my buttocks then up and down the valley between the two cheeks. As time progressed a perceived a little wetness on my skin as Alan too began to leak.

I don't know how long we stood there as a threesome, each of us quietly moaning with the pleasure we were giving and receiving, enjoying the feel of each other's bodies. I realised at that point what I'd been missing for fifty years, and that only men really know enough about what men experience at the rawest level to be able to give each other such satisfaction. There was nothing effeminate in what we were doing – this was the very essence of masculinity.

"Let's lie down," said George, letting go of my dick. "I want to suck you." He took a couple of steps to Alan's huge bed, then lay down on it with his feet facing the wall and his head at the foot.

I turned and positioned myself in front of him. He placed a huge hand on each of my buttocks and pulled me closer. Then he opened his mouth, leaned forward slightly and engulfed my cock. Holding my cock in place with his lips he put his tongue into the opening in my foreskin, and began to explore all around the glans beneath my hood. Then he drew his tongue backwards across the top of my cockhead, turned the tip of his tongue into a fine point and gently introduced it a few millimetres into my urethra. No one had every worshiped my cock with their mouth like this before. I moaned in pleasure, and as I did so George responded with a low groan which vibrated along my dick.

I opened my eyes to see that Alan had climbed onto the bed, and was lying across it sucking George's dick. George was slowly moving his hips backwards and forwards, literally fucking Alan's face, in the same rhythm with which he was sucking me. My stomach began to flutter with excitement as the pure enjoyment of the moment took over. I broke away from George momentarily and lay down on the bed, my head between Alan's legs.

George adjusted his position a little and took hold of my penis between his fingers. He wanked me a couple of times, then pulled my foreskin back as tightly as he could before taking my dick into his mouth again. This time he used his lips to hold my foreskin in place and stop it from moving back over my cockhead, while he explored the bare head and glans with the tip of his tongue.

I reached out and put a hand on Alan's bum. I began to massage it, and to drag a finger up and down the crack between his cheeks. Then I moved my fingers down over his anus and onto the back of his ball sack. As I did this he turned onto his side to give me a better view of his rock hard penis. I moved a little closer, took it into my mouth and began to gently explore his circumcised knob with my tongue.

The next ten minutes or so were exceptionally pleasurable as the three of us gently sucked each other to increasingly higher levels of enjoyment. I'd discovered over the previous couple of weeks that I loved sucking cock, and I also loved my own dick being sucked. To both suck and be sucked at the same time was exquisite.

George let my dick fall out of his mouth, sucked his thumb and moved it to my anus. He circled my rosebud several times and I abandoned myself to the raw pleasure of so many nerve endings being so expertly stimulated. He withdrew, sucked his thumb again, and this time when he returned to my anus he introduced his thumb gently into it, just an inch or so.

I groaned.

"Like that?"

"Hmmm."

"Like me to fuck you?"

George had a longer and thicker cock than Alan, but I was sure I could take it and the idea of having him inside me sent the butterflies fluttering once more. "Hmmm" was all I could reply.

"Right!", said George. "How are we going to arrange this?"

Alan stopped sucking George and manoeuvred himself into the middle of the bed, lying on his back. "You lie on top of me, Rog," he said, "and suck my cock. And I'll suck you while George fucks you."

I was so carried away in the moment that I wasn't really listening, so wasn't entirely sure what Alan wanted me to do. I did understand that he wanted me to suck him, though, so as we all broke apart and Alan rolled a bit to lie on his back I moved over him and, propped up on my hands and knees I took his still hard and wet cock back into my mouth and began to suck again. I'd accepted that I was an enthusiastic cock sucker, and knew that whatever else was going to happen sucking away on Alan's dick and sampling the copious amounts of precum he was leaking would be pleasurable on its own.

Alan then put a hand on each of my hips and rearranged the lower half of my body slightly, moved my cock into his mouth and started to suck gently.

Now my arse was in the air, and I felt warm air on my arsehole as George moved his mouth towards it. For a couple of minutes as I sucked and licked Alan's cock, and he did the same to me, George explored my anus with his tongue. He took things very slowly, first licking around the opening with the flat of his tongue, sliding down the perineum to my balls, then back up again, over my anus and beyond, distributing a decent glob of saliva each time he passed over my arsehole. Then he tightened his tongue into a tip, and began to probe inside me – a centimetre or so only at first, in and out, then gradually a bit deeper. Alan had rimmed me once or twice, but in this department George was clearly more of an expert, taking his time to build and deepen the sensations I was feeling.

Now that my arse was being stimulated I wanted more, and as George's tongue entered me I pushed back a little to encourage him in further. He took the signal and obliged, although not to his full depth. He knew the value of building my pleasure little by little and so it took six or seven more gentle thrusts before I felt his jaw tight against my backside and his tongue completely inside me. He started to move his tongue around the inside of my anus, his reaming action lifting my pleasure a further level whilst also coating my chute with yet more saliva to lubricate what was to follow.

After a few minutes George withdrew slowly and I felt the bed move as he transferred his weight onto his feet and stood up. Alan and I continued face fucking each other, each of us thrusting our spit-coated cocks gently into the others mouth. Alan was rock hard, and I loved the feel of his tightly cut cock as my tongue and lips played with it bulbous head.

The mattress heaved again as George returned, this time kneeling behind me. I felt a slippery finger enter into my anus which had already been opened up and lubricated by George's tongue. But George's finger could probe inside much further, and within seconds I felt his fingertip begin to massage my prostate. The sensation was indescribable as for the first time I was pleasured from the rear at the same time as having my cock gently sucked.

George introduced a second finger, sliding the two digits slowly in and out of my arse. I tried to help him by relaxing as much as I could, but this was easier said than done as Alan continued to do an expert job at fellating me and I tried to maintain some concentration on giving him pleasure.

Presently George withdrew his fingers, and I heard him pumping Alan's tube of lube followed a squelching sound which I took to be him coating his dick in preparation for me. Then I felt his fingers opening my arse up as widely as he could without exerting too much force, allowing him to pump a couple of shots of lubrication directly into my hole. Next thing I knew George's slimy left hand was on my hip and I could feel the head of his cock being rubbed gently up and down against my anus.

"Ready?"

"Yes," I gasped. And relaxed the muscles around my anus as much as I was able.

George pushed slightly, and I felt his knob enter me, withdraw a little, then push in further. Even at this shallow level I could appreciate how big George was. I'd managed to take a dildo a size up from how big Alan's cock was, but that hadn't matched up to this. I braced myself and pushed back against George which allowed him to enter as far as my cherry. Then I took a deep breath.

"Let me push back when I'm ready," I said. I was a little weary of the potential for pain from George's size at this point.

"Sure. In your own time." George now had a sticky hand on each of my hips, and just rested them there neither pushing or pulling.

I braced myself for the moment, pushed my guts downward a little as if taking a dump, and moved backwards. I felt a burning pain as I forced George further inside me, but he'd done such a good job in lubing us both that this didn't last for long and within seconds his knob had popped through and advanced a good couple of centimetres further into me. I moved backwards and forwards a few times to massage away the residue of the pain, then greedily pushed back as far as I could to get as much of George's big cock into me.

The feeling was amazing. I was so full! I tightened my anal muscles around George's cock, and he began to slowly move inwards and outwards, fucking me. This was heaven. My best friend Alan was lying underneath me with my cock in his mouth. Me with his in mine. And behind me a lusty farmer with his enormous cock up my backside. And we were all enjoying it without shame or inhibition.

George increased his tempo, but still moved gently. I moved with him, and Alan stopped sucking me, instead just providing a minimum of resistance from his lips and letting me fuck his wet mouth with our combined rhythm. He moved his hand across my neck and shoulder blades, pushing me down tightly onto his penis which he was thrusting upwards in tune with George and myself.

The movement of George's cock over my prostate began the process of what I'd started to call an `internal orgasm'. I knew I'd be leaking seminal fluid by the bucketload, so stopped moving my cock in Alan's mouth and just let it rest there, discharging its load for Alan to enjoy. He seemed to enjoy this because I felt his own cock twitch inside my mouth and noted a change of flavour as he began to secrete more fluid as well.

"I'm not going to last much longer," gasped George as he pumped away at me. He rested his body on my back and I felt a tingle as his sweaty skin began to slide across mine. He increased the tempo of his thrusting and I flexed my anal muscles in time with this – he felt huge inside me and with each thrust I could feel the rim of his cockhead moving up and down my chute, stimulating all the nerve endings inside as he did so, whilst at the same time rubbing my prostate towards euphoria.

George then began to grunt and I could feel the warmth of his breath on the back of my neck. A few seconds later he emitted a loud, low pitched growl which vibrated throughout my body. His dick then swelled and pulsed as he began to ejaculate inside me with a series of shorter thrusts, each accompanied by a further loud groan.

I couldn't hold back and as he came I began to deposit my own load into Alan's mouth. I didn't come in spasms – instead the semen just poured out of me, almost as if I were pissing. The orgasm seemed to continue for ages although in reality it probably only endured for ten seconds or so. But it was ten seconds of the absolute primal delight of a single continuous orgasm. Midway through I detected the taste of Alan's semen in my mouth as he merged into our shared orgasm with a deposit of his own. I sucked greedily, swallowing as much as I could.

For a few seconds we were one, a single pulsating, orgasming, entity – me emptying myself into Alan's mouth, George firing off his copious deposit into my arse and Alan shooting cum down my throat.

Then we were spent. For a brief while we stayed pretty still. George let a little more of his weight fall onto my back, but not so much as I was unable to bear it. He'd stopped thrusting, and I could feel his cock deflating a little but he was so large and he was in so far that he remained pretty much in place. Alan began to gently move his tongue around the head of my cock, and I returned the favour, licking the slit of his cockhead as it continued to ooze with the final dregs of his climax.

George gave a huge sigh and rubbed his sweaty torso across my back, then slowly pulled back and withdrew his cock from my arse. As soon as he was completely out he moved off the bed and stood up. Alan released my cock from his mouth. I took this as the sign that we were done and was just about to move off him when he diverted his attention to my anus and began licking the hole that George had just vacated. I could feel George's cum sliding out, and Alan's tongue flicking up and down my arse to mop it all up as it flowed out. George appeared on the bed and knelt next to me, his semi flaccid cock at face level. I let Alan's dick fall from my mouth and turned towards George's which had a coating of white frothiness. With the residue of Alan's cum leaking out of my mouth and onto my chin I took in George's cock and began to clean it.

"That was fucking amazing," said George as we lay side by side a couple of minutes later.

I felt the same, but said nothing. I was completely covered in man juice – my arse had received such a drenching that it still felt as if the last residues of George were working their way out of me, my chin had a coating on it of Alan's semen, and my own pubic area was sodden from my own cum and Alan's spit.

We lay there for a while, variously caressing each other, giving each other soft kisses and massaging our secretions into each other's skin. Then, without going under the duvet, we drifted off into a deep and peaceful sleep.