Date: Fri, 05 Mar 1999 05:58:39 GMT From: Joe Camp Subject: An Old Man's Life An Old Man's Life 2 Codes b/g M/F M/b M/t M/t/t M/M/M love story (mast, oral, anal, incest) By idc90@hotmail.com Warning: The following story is a work of fiction. It is a fantasy. It never happened, except in the author's imagination. This story contains sex between children, a man and a boy, male teens, and a man and two teenage boys. The author does not encourage or condone sex between adults and children. If you are underage, or this is illegal where you are, you already know what your supposed to do. Find something else and delet this file. If this kind of story turns you off, find something else. If your looking for a story that has someone having sex ever other sentence, this one is not it. This is a love story between an older man and a boy. This story starts with the man as a boy, and follows his life into old age, looking into the hidden corners to find how he could love a boy, and ends with the teens as men. Fiction and Real Life: This story is nearly all fiction. The experiences described between the boy at age 7 and his 9 year old sister, are true. I saw the locker room scene in the 8th grade, and it happened as described. The masturbation scene using a rayon bedspread is loosely based on my own experience. All portions of the Army experiences are true, and based on my own service in the early 1960's. Past that point, it's all fiction. My apologies to the City of Houston for placing the rent boy pickup point there. I have never been to Houston, but most big cities have an area as described where men go looking for sex. The characters in this story engage in unprotected sex. That's not real life if you want to live to old age. The characters are a product of my imagination, and can't catch anything unless I want them to. Any resemblance of characters to an actual person is purely coincidental. The author retains the copyright of this story. Placing this story on a commercial web site without the authors permission is a violation of that copyright. ---------------------------------------------------------------- Me It's Bob's 22nd Birthday today, and we always celebrate our anniversary at the same time. The guys are taking us out to a gay club tonight. I don't really know what to expect, because I've never been to one before. I don't care for the night life, or for what passes as music these days, and haven't been to any night club in over 40 years. I don't know how I'm going to feel about seeing men dancing and kissing on each other. I know we do it, but only at home. Maybe I just spent too many years hidden deep in the closet. I don't like the gay bar hopping life style, and I pray my men never get involved with it. I'm scared. I've been thinking of the last eleven years all day, and I finally want to tell about them. I spent many, many years living the straight life. I was well past middle age, before I found myself. I had everyone fooled, including me. It wasn't too many more years to retirement age, and I had been hoping for an early retirement, so I could travel. Then Bobby came into my life. I don't think you could call my life normal up to that time, but I was content most of the time, just being alone. I had periods of empty arms loneliness, but they would always pass, and I was for the most part contented. Even though I had been married, I had long ago learned to live my life without ever knowing what it is like to be loved as a man, or knowing what it's like to have someone that wanted my love. I had never known the passion of a lover. I know I'm not the best looking person around. The little Indian blood I have in me all showed up in my face and hair. I have a heavy blocky face, with high cheek bones, and I scar easily. Every blemish I ever had as a teen left it's deep pitted mark, and I had a lot of blemishes. My hair, while brown, is heavy, straight, corse and thick, like my great-great grandfather's black Indian hair. I was the youngest of two kids, and I came from a home that should have split up when I was born. I didn't know about most of the things my father did until later in life, but he was an alcoholic, a child molester, and I have reason to believe a Bi sexual. Friday night was payday, and at our house it was never looked forward to. If he came home at all, we could plan on his being drunk, mad about something, and hitting on someone, usually it was my mother, and often times he would be broke. My father never sexually molested me, but he did my sister when she was 9. As for me, he just avoided me. I don't remember getting a hug from him until I was 20 years old, and then only because I gave him one, and I don't think I ever got a kiss from him, or had him tell me he loved me. My mother was in most things a strong woman. She was a church goer, and I don't want you to get me wrong. I believe the bible is true, and says what it means. Trouble comes along when people try to interpret it to get it to say something it doesn't. I believe the Bible is true, and will make every point that is to be followed, in two or more places. Mom's main failing was in not kicking my old man out. I knew fairly early in life that I didn't have much interest in having sex with someone else. When I was 7 years old, my sister taught me what our father had taught her. We had big walk in closets, and we snuck into one of them one day. She undressed and showed me her pussy, taking her fingers and pulling the lips open. She told me to get undressed, which didn't take me long at all, as all I had on was a pair of shorts and my undies. My little 2 inch dick was as hard as it had ever been. I laid down on top of her like she told me, and worked my dick against her pussy. I was surprised when it just slipped right in. I started pumping with my hips like she told me to. It felt kind of nice for the first few minutes, but my little cut dick was getting sore fast. After a few more minutes, she told me I was supposed to push hard into her and pee inside her (she didn't know anymore than I did about cum). I was getting real sore by that time, and my little dick was still so hard it hurt, so it was hard to start a flow of pee. I was finally able to let a little pee out, and she was happy. I was happy she said we could stop. We played grownup a few more times, but I know now that neither of us ever had a climax. My sister soon lost interest in her little brother when she found out that boys older than her, with bigger dicks, liked to play the grownup game too. Starting the 8th grade was hard for me. Up until then, we didn't take showers after PE class. I was very shy when I was 13, and had never undressed in front of other guys. At home, I didn't even come out of my room without my shirt on, and was embarrassed to even wear shorts. The only nudity acceptable in our house, was bare feet. To make matters worse, my 8th grade PE class had to share the showers and locker room with a 10th grade class. I didn't mind checking out the other guys, but I didn't want them checking me out. It didn't do my ego a lot of good to see that I was one of the youngest in the class, and was also one of the few that still saw a little boy when I looked down at myself. I'm sure most locker rooms are like ours was. It was OK to check someone out if you didn't look like you were doing it. I learned early in the year to keep my eyes moving. One of the 8th graders (not me) got caught by a 10th grader looking too long. The 10th grader yelled "FAG!" and ran over to the poor kid, jumped up on the bench, and started shaking his 5 inch dick in the kids face and asking at the top of his voice if the kid wanted some of it. The kid said no, and you could tell by his voice he was trying hard not to cry. The 10th grader told him he better keep his eyes to himself. All the poor kid could do was say sorry and get out of there as fast as he could. I always felt sorry for that kid the rest of the year. He wasn't in our school the next year. The time spent in the locker rooms was hard for me all the rest of the time I was in school. I was always torn between wanting to check out all the guys, and being afraid I would pop a boner or get caught looking, so I always got out of there as fast as I could. I finally started puberty just before I started the 9th grade. I had a rayon bedspread on my bed, and one night after I had taken my shower, I laid down on the bed before putting my boxers back on. It was a hot summer night, and the cool smoothness of the cover against my dick and balls felt great. I started rubbing myself against the bed, and in just a few seconds the most wonderful feeling came over me. It started deep inside, and made my nuts feel great, my dick had tingling feelings I had never before felt. Before I knew what was happening, wave after wave of pleasure washed over me, and my dick started shooting out a white cream. I was sure that it was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to anyone. I started doing it every morning and every night after that. Was I ever proud of every single hair that started showing up. Sex was never talked about in our house. It was just done, so I never got The Talk. Everything I knew about sex, was what my sister had showed me, and what I had picked up on the school yard. This was long before sex education had come to the schools, and you really wouldn't believe some of the mis- information I heard. I wasn't very bright then, I guess the stains gave away what I was doing. It wasn't long before my bedspread disappeared, and I never saw it again. That's when I learned how to jack off, which I thought was great too. I never did get interested in girls all the time I was in high school. The most I ever did with anyone else, was a little show and tell with some of the younger kids in the neighborhood. As long as I could jack off once or twice a day, I was happy. I never even thought about having sex with another guy. Only Homo's and Fag's did THAT. I never heard the word Gay until years later. At that time, to be gay meant only that you were having fun. I had failed the 9th grade and had to repeat it, so instead of graduating at 17 like I would have, I still had 4 more years of school left when I turned 15. I wasn't bitter about failing, because I had been expecting to fail ever since the 2nd grade. I guess I was one of those the teachers just passed. A new school was built near our house so I went there for the second time I was in the 9th grade. I got to check out a new group of 9th grade boys. If you haven't figured it out, I didn't do very well in school. Living with an alcoholic father, and not knowing if there would be money for groceries next week, didn't make for a stable home life, and I thought I had it really rough. My mother had gone to work at a time when mothers were expected to stay at home. I turned 17 shortly after I finished the 10th grade with C's and D's. Two days after my birthday, I enlisted in the Army, just to get away from home. I didn't have any trouble getting my folks to sign for me, as they would rather I not be there anyway, and I still had 2 more years to get through high school. The Army was a shock to me. I learned I was really a spoilt, ignorant kid, and had to do some fast growing up. All during this time, my sex life consisted of jacking off at least once a day. During Basic Training, just living with 40 other guys in the same room, made jacking off hard to do without getting caught. The showers were just one big open room, and the toilets didn't have doors on them. If you tried to jack off in your bunk, the guy on top or bottom would know what you were doing. But, if you try hard enough, you can always find a way to take care of yourself. Living with a whole bunch of guys all running around nude or in their boxers can be interesting. I still had no thought of having sex with any of them, even though there were a LOT of cute guys in the platoon. I am now sure there were a few gays in the barracks, but everyone acted homophobic. A few weeks after we started basic training, it was whispered around that 2 men from another platoon in our company, had been caught in the showers, late at night, doing THINGS to each other. No one ever saw them again. It was never explained to me what they were doing, and I just assumed I was supposed to know. I didn't, but soon was told how guys can have sex together. At first, I don't think I really believed a guy could get his penis up another guys ass. I was sent to another post for Advanced Individual Training. If you looked at the barracks, you wouldn't have known I was on a different post. The major change was that I had a whole new group of men to check out. One of the men in my new platoon was a good looking black man about 19 or 20. He wasn't overly muscular, but was tall with a good build. He had a dark honey brown color, and smooth complection, oh, he was very easy on the eyes. The type of guy you just knew the girls went crazy over. Over the months, I would notice him looking at me like he was trying to figure something out. We would talk once in a while, and I came to know him as a kind hearted person, but he never asked me what he wanted to know, and I never asked him what it was. Those were the days long before the Civil Rights Movement, and the blacks mostly hung out with other blacks, and the whites mostly hung out with other whites. No real reason for it, that's just the way it was. There were no blacks in the area I grew up in, and no one talked about the subject. There was no thought on my part about it. I knew I was against segregation, because I had always believed people are just people. I might not have known any blacks while growing up, but I knew Mexican- Americans, and Indians, and called some of them my friends. There were some whites I didn't like, just as I later learned there are some blacks I don't like. The first time I ever saw a whites only sign, was on my first pass while in basic training in Louisiana. It was a shock to me, even though I knew in the back of my mind it happened. The sign was small, and in the corner of the window of a small cafe. None of us was hungry, and hadn't planned on going in anyway. I was with a group of GI's, and we were all white, but I thought at the time that if there had been a black with us and he was my friend, I would have gone with him. The last night of A.I.T., I woke up late in the night realizing I all of a sudden had three hands, and that the two I could control were under my head. But there was a third hand in my boxers playing with my ass hole. I woke up enough to realize it was the good looking black. I was very tired, so I just gently moved his hand out of my shorts, and went back to sleep. When I woke up the next morning, I wanted to find him and let him know that I wasn't mad or upset, and that I wouldn't tell anyone. I also wanted to tell him I had nothing against him, I just wasn't into guys, but if I was, it would be with him as I thought he was cute. When I asked where he was, I was told that they had started handing out the new orders at 5am, and that he was already gone. Like so many chances in my life, I had let it pass, and I never saw him again. Williams, wherever you are, I'm sorry I didn't explain. My new orders sent me to Germany. While the Army was slowly changing, it was still part of the Old Army when I was in. That meant a G.I. was expected to be a heavy drinker, at the least. Between the ages of 17 and 18, I became a very heavy drinker, and could cuss with the best of them. Even though my father was an alcoholic, I had never so much as tasted a beer, or ever said a cuss word, while I lived at home (I know, I led a very sheltered life). I got totally drunk three times during that year, but I learned I could out drink most people before it affected me. The last time I ever got drunk was on my 18th birthday. It was then I decided I didn't want to be like my father, and although I don't have anything against someone taking a drink, I now rarely drink at all. I do have a lot against someone who gets drunk and is mean or deprives their family because of it. I also decided at that time, that I didn't want to have anything to do with any drugs. One good thing I did while in the Army, was to finish high school and get my GED. Being the macho Infantry G.I., I did decide on my 18th birthday, that it was time for me to lose my virginity (I don't count experimenting with my sister). I got a two day pass to Frankfort, and went to find me a whore. It didn't take long if you walked into any bar in Frankfort. I spotted a young woman and after a short talk we agreed on a price. We went to a hotel where I got a room by the hour. I let her know that I knew what to do, but that I was a virgin. That really pleased her. We got undressed, all but her bra, and she laid down on the bed, raising her knees up and spreading her legs wide. She humped her pussy at me a few times and held her arms open to me. I gently laid down, resting my weight on my knees and elbows. German whores were very clean then and had to have a doctor's checkup each week, so I didn't even think of using a condom (don't try that today). I entered her slowly with my six and a half inches, and got a steady humping going. After a while, she reached behind her, and took off her bra. She pulled my head down onto her right tit, and I was soon sucking hard on the nipple. Soon, she was moving her pelvis in a circle, all the while humping in time with me. I thought that felt really good. She asked me how much I had to drink that night. I told her just the one drink while we talked in the bar. She sped up our humping, and I matched her. Soon sweat was glistening off our bodies. I started to feel the familiar tightening in my pigeon egg sized nuts, as they got ready to shoot my load of cum. I finally felt the cum boiling out of my nuts as I shoved hard into her hot pussy, and my body jerked as I grunted with each shot. She pulled my head down into the valley of her breasts, and there I rested while I came down from my high. She seemed to make a big deal out of my taking over 30 minutes to cum. At the time, I just thought she was trying to make me feel good, I didn't know that most of her clients took 10 to 20 minutes, and I now think she thought I would be done real fast. I thought the whole experience had been pleasant, but not any better then Mister Thumb and his four sons felt. And it sure wasn't the earth moving experience I had been lead to believe it should have been. So for the last two years I was in the Army, it was back to jacking off. After I got out of the Army, I went back to my parents' home because I didn't know anywhere else to go. I still didn't know what I wanted to do with my life, and was just drifting from one day to the next. My sister had married a man 20 years older than herself, and had moved to Tucson, Arizona. He came to El Paso, where we were living at the time, and asked me to go back to Tucson and stay with them and their kids a while, so I ended up in Tucson.