Date: Tue, 7 Oct 2014 02:05:06 -0400
From: cgearhart@rcn.com
Subject: Watermelon

What do you do when your old college lover, after his wife's funeral, calls
and invites you to fly half way across the country for some sort of
reunion? Sorry, but no thanks?  Not likely.

The sad truth is, given my current situation, it was not only possible for
me to go, but highly probable – mainly because I'm gay, single, on
sabbatical, and there's no one here that gives a particular shit where I
go. From the second he called – his voice hardly changed over twenty
years – I was interested.

So here I am, at his darkened doorstep, waiting for the door to open.
During the plane ride out, I tried to guess how he might look after twenty
years.  Movie makeup guys are so good at aging young actors, but I had no
clue how they figure it. He was my one and only roommate for my last two
years of college.  He bred me our first night together, and kept at it all
the way to graduation. I'll bet I took a bucket or more of his cum up my
chute. Ah, yes -- those were the days! After school ended, we split, and I
never really heard from him again, except once, second hand, after a couple
years or so, that he got married, and maybe had a kid.  As for myself, the
intervening years haven't been too bad. I'm still within five pounds of
what I weighed back then.  But, if you strung together all my relationships
since then, they'd still add up to less than the two years with Jim.

Even prepared for disappointment, what opened the door was still a shock!
There, filling the door frame, was this hefty tummy, packed into a western
style shirt that looked one or two sizes too small, with snap buttons
straining and about to pop.

Jowls and tummy. That pretty much summed up the toll twenty years had taken
on my old – and first -- steady lover. Not quite the vision I expected.

My reaction was apparently noticed. "Thanks for coming," he said, somewhat
seriously. "I really do appreciate it, considering we haven't spoken for
years..... but, truthfully, you've never been far from my mind.  Where are
your bags? We used to have a guest room, but I made it into a home
office. So you'll sleep in my son's room. He's not here at the moment, but
will be in a little while."

While I retrieved my suitcase from the rental car, I thought about the old
farmer's daughter jokes, and decided a variation might work here. "It's all
right, Jim," I said, returning from the car.  "I'm not having any car
trouble.  No need for your son to share his bed – I can get a motel."

"Absolutely not!" Jim seemed to think I actually meant it.  "Can't ask you
to come halfway across the country, then stay elsewhere. Jason's fine with
sharing his room, really.  Besides," he added dryly, in a nod to my effort
at humor, "It's got twin beds."

"So did our dorm room," I thought about saying...."so if the kid's any kind
of chip off the old block...." -- but decided against it. Instead, I asked
"So how're you guys handling your wife's passing?"

"We're making it, I guess. Sometimes I think he's doing better than me.
He's got girlfriends at school. That's where he is now. I'm worried that he
might do something foolish over his mother's passing. As a family, we were
close. But now there's this huge vacuum."

"I hear you." I answered wearily, a quiet admission that the same could be
said about my life over the years – the vacuum part, that is.

"You must be tired by now. Why don't you call it a day. We'll talk again at
breakfast." he said, and led me to Jason's room, pointing out the bathroom
on the way.

When I woke early next morning, the bed across from me was occupied.
Apparently, I was so tired from my travel I fell asleep immediately, and
never heard him return. Studying the sleeping youth's half exposed body, I
was mildly impressed.

When he stirred some minutes later, I feigned sleep.  He soon erected
himself to a sitting position. Through eye slits, I checked out the rest of
his build. Shoulders, arms, thighs, and calves, they were all there! And
developing well. I figured him to be about sixteen or seventeen – the
latter, more likely – given the pleasing hairiness of his legs.

He rose and went to the bathroom. I could hear the splash of urine in the
toilet bowl all the way from the bedroom. It sounded like a garden hose
filling a bucket, reminding me of his father's morning releases back in the
day. Considering that his dad was four or five years older at the time,
this kid was already a helluva fireman.

On his way back to bed, I sneaked a peek at his package. It looked just as
impressive as it sounded. The white briefs held it horizontal, and pointing
out over his right hip.  He flopped back into bed, flung the covers back
over him, right up to his neck, for a snooze.

I spent the next few moments comparing him to his father. Clearly, Jason
looked damned good right out of the box. If it turned out he screwed well,
this could easily make the trip worthwhile, no matter what else did or
didn't happen.

I slipped into my robe and slippers and padded out to the kitchen where Jim
was nursing coffee. Without the tight button-snapping shirt, he looked
somewhat better. "Jason still asleep?" he asked, after we exchanged
greetings.

"I think so." I replied. "He was up to go to the bathroom, then I think he
went back to sleep."

"I'm not sure when he got back. I went to bed right after you, and didn't
hear a thing."

"Nor I," I said.

We managed small talk for a while. But it seemed like Jim was clearly
waiting for his son to appear before launching into any meaningful
conversation. Unless he was willing to talk about our 'old times' together,
which I was uncertain about, we had almost nothing to discuss.

When Jason finally showed up, he was still wearing the jockey shorts he
slept in, and nothing else. While I had no real objection to his attire, or
lack thereof, it did seem a bit unmannerly. I may have glanced toward Jim
indicating as much.

Jim responded with a mild scold. "Is this any way to present yourself to an
old friend of twenty years, whom you've never seen before?"

Jason did not seem very embarrassed. "I'm just following orders, Dad," he
said, then turned to me. "Dad told me all about you and him. He thinks
maybe if I seduce you, and shove my cock up your ass, maybe you'll give him
some too."

Jim snorted. "That's not exactly what I said, Jason."

I felt a sudden surge in my pants. The kid was tickling a nerve that hadn't
been touched in years. Even my asshole puckered. Most of my fantasies on
the plane, though generally considered taboo in most family circles, now
seemed likely to happen.  The proper course for me, I decided, was to
facilitate matters wherever I could.

"Look," I said, "It's pretty obvious you both know my orientation, and that
I wouldn't come all this way without some hope of having sex. Let's just
not worry about social niceties, OK?"

Jason looked at his father.  "Wow!!!! Looks like we're way ahead of
schedule." With that he reached inside his shorts and brought out a
tumescent young woody that would been respectable on a man a foot and a
half taller. "How'd you like to have this for breakfast?" he pandered.
"Breakfast in bed."

This was serious business, I realized. His equipment exceeded by far my
wildest fantasy. I looked at Jim, who was also watching Jason's swelling
cock, nodding his head approvingly.

I squeezed my lips and quietly nodded as well.

"Let's go to my room," Jim said, and led our procession to the master
bedroom, with me in the middle. As we progressed, I felt Jason's prick
bumping my pajama bottoms. I hiked up my robe, loosened my pajama strings,
and let them fall below my buttocks. His prick, now oozing droplets of
precum, wet my ass with every bump. By the time we reached our goal, his
cockhead had found my hole.

Jim took to a bedroom chair and began working his dick. I sat on the edge
of the bed, facing the young stud.

"You want to suck me for a little first?" Jason said.

Once again, I glanced at Jim. He nodded affirmatively, and sped up his
strokes.

Jason tasted mildly salty, and had a faint smell of pizza – probably
from last night. He became instantly rigid. It was so large, I was unlikely
to do much more than titillate. Even choking, I could barely accommodate
much more than its bulbous glans.

For his part, Jason was amazingly professional. Urging me on with sweet
little nothings, pausing when I needed breath, then insistently pushing
deeper after each pause. At first, his hands roamed my shoulders and back,
then reached down to my crack.

I was in heaven.

"You wanta fuck him first, Dad?" Jason asked, showing two fingers working
into my asshole.

Jim shook his head, continuing to masturbate. his free hand pointed toward
his dick, as if to say "Remember me?"

There it was. My old college dick, looking completely familiar, possibly a
shade or two darker, but as virile as ever. Remember, indeed!

Jason directed me onto his father's bed on my back, with my ass at the edge
of the bed. He grabbed my legs at the ankles, and raised them high over
head. I was to be treated to an eyewitness account of the assault. "OK to
skip the rubber?" he asked.

Some things are so incredibly special they're worth the risk. I wanted this
fuck to be as good as it could get. "Yeah, go for it, Kiddo," I urged. My
reason for coming halfway across the country was suddenly and stunningly
about to happen, though I did not expect it would be the son who fucked me
first.

He moistened his palm with saliva, lubed his penis, then positioned it's
glistening glans right up to my back door. He pushed gently forward, making
my sphincter tingle in sheer anticipation .

It felt like a velvety baseball bat going inside.  No anal protest
whatever.  I glanced down and saw less than half his cock inside me. "Oh
man," I whispered. To my delight, I was growing rigid too. Jason spotted
it, and began laughing.

"Jesus Christ," I begged, as he pushed further inside. When his dark young
bush brushed my cheeks, I wrapped my legs around, and squeezed hard,
pressing his cock even further, all the way to his balls.

He lowered himself, with his face near my left ear "I guess Dad was right,
huh?" he snickered, as his thrusts ramped up in tempo. "You like this,
right?"

"In spades," I said. "Was there any doubt?"

"Not really. From the moment Dad said you were coming.... I figured it was
gonna happen."

"Do you guys ever ...?"

"What? Dad and me? Naw. He's caught me jerkin' off a couple times. That's
when he told me about you and him in college, how he rode you for a couple
years steady, and how much he loved it."

I relaxed my leglock enough to allow his strokes to lengthen – to a
point where that enormous prickhead was the only part of him that never saw
the light of day.  He roiled my insides like they've never been roiled
before.  As a dedicated bottom, I had finally run into the fuck of a
lifetime, and from a kid less than half my age! To be so instantly
infatuated with this young man, and so utterly dependent, this overwhelmed
me. All I could think of was just to hug him dearly. "Oh, Jason..." I
mooned, profoundly grateful for his gift.

"OK if I squirt my load inside?" he asked. "Dad said that was what he
always liked best. It'll make you nice'n juicy for him."

All I could think of by way of answering was to scissor him ever tighter,
hoping to feel his pulses when they came. In return, he increased both the
speed and effort of his thrusts. Finally, with one last mighty lunge, the
pulsing began. I counted six strong ones.

After he extracted, I felt cool air rushing up my chute.  I worried over
what a fucking sight my hole must look like. But that's the price one pays
for getting such a great fuck.

Jason turned to his father. "Ok Dad, He's all yours."

"If you guys don't mind, how about we take a little breather," I
demurred. "Christ, that was one helluva show your son just pulled off."

"If you think that was good, wait'll you get mine." Jim said, from his
chair. His darkish prick stood erect.

"You gotta be kidding," I said. "Good as you were, I never remember
anything like this back then. Your boy woulda been the toast of both
dorms."

"Maybe so," Jim replied. "But he doesn't have this." Jim grabbed his
stomach with both hands as he approached, like he was carrying a good sized
watermelon. Beneath it, in the shadows, the penis I worshiped for two years
swung stiffly side to side. Just as I remembered, it was a few shades
darker than the rest of him, like his eyelids, which I so often kissed.

"Emily said the best sex we ever had came after I grew this thing." He
patted it gently. "She said it worked equally well – missionary or back
door."

"Probably because you've still got enough dick to satisfy most anyone," I
answered, reaching for my old 'favorite toy'. As I brought its' wrinkled
foreskin to my lips, his tummy pressed my forehead. It was unexpectedly
firm.

"One of the last good laughs we had together," Jim went on, "was when we
were going at it, with her yelling her head off, so much so that Jason
heard it, and came busting into the room – to save her, I guess. Once he
saw what was going on, he scrammed, without saying a word. We laughed so
much we had to stop screwing."

"Hey, guys. I'm not exactly in another room, y'know," Jason chimed in, in
mock irritation.

"Let me do you missionary. You'll love it, I guarantee." Jim said.

So, once again I was on my back, spreading my legs wide, and covering my
balls with both hands,to protect them from what I thought might be
downright painful. He gradually pressed his torso on top of mine and began
corkscrewing, in search of my hole. Jason came to his father's aid by
grabbing the rigid cockhead and guiding it into my hole.

As it turned out, my balls didn't need protection, so I grasped his two
asscheeks, one in each hand. I never had sex before with someone this
hefty, so I didn't know what to expect. We were eyeball to eyeball as his
penetrations began. There was a touch of "deja vu' as I felt him gunning my
prostate, plus activity on the front side, as his 'watermelon' began
rolling over my dick, from root to tip with each thrust.

My eyes must have widened when I realized this was turning into some kind
of double fuck, like I was being screwed and masturbated at the same time,
with no input from me. Jim probably noticed my surprise, because he said
"See! Size does matter!" and laughed.

He leaned in further, so that our heads were side be side. "I've been
saving this ever since you said you were coming here, so hold tight."

"Oh my God" I replied, suddenly realizing I was on a short final for
orgasm. It came in a flurry of thunderbolts that wracked my
insides. "Jeeeeessuuuuus" I yelled.

Jim sped up his thrusts to an astonishing rate, helped I'm sure by my cum
being smeared all over our stomachs. It was my second monumental sex
experience in a matter of minutes.  My eyes were closed as Jim emptied his
balls into me, adding his to the creamy load already there.

Jason interrupted our mystical moment. "I never thought you could move that
fast, Dad. I'm really impressed."

"Didn't think these old bones had that much life left, huh?" Jim said,
chuckling.

"No........Ohhhh........Myyyy......" I contributed, rather incoherently.

But the very next moment was remarkable. Like an unspoken epiphany of
sorts, with a piercing clarity that changed everything, I suddenly realized
the precise reason why I was put on earth, and that I would leave the East
– and loneliness – behind.  Should it not work out – no matter. I
would dissolve before the memory of it did.