Date: Wed, 12 May 2010 06:27:48 -0500 From: J. M. Vincent Subject: Never Too Old WARNING/DISCLAIMER -- Please Read before Reading Story Legal Notice: The following story contains descriptions of graphic sexual acts. The story is a work of fiction and has no basis in reality. Don't read this story if you're not 18 or over, if it is illegal to read this type of material where you live, or if you don't want to read about children having sex with each other or adults, or gay/bi people in love or having sex, or rough sex involving adults and/or adults and children. The author retains copyright to this story. Placing this story on a website or reproducing this story for distribution without the author's permission is a violation of that copyright. http://enjoyoldpics.com/today/today12/l11.JPG NEVER TOO OLD BY: Shyoldguy (A story of two mature men falling in love) I woke up and stretched, my arthritis making me just a little stiff this morning, but not as stiff as my morning wood. I pried my eyes open to the dim light peeking around the edges of the drapes. I looked over at the sweet man next to me, with his silver hair hanging in his face, the laugh wrinkles around his eyes, and fell in love with him all over again. The sheet was down around his waist, and his strong manly chest exposed to the cool air in the room, making his large dark nipples stick up. The hair on his chest still had some dark brown color mixed in the grey; He was still a fine looking man. I leaned over, and ran my fingers through his long unruly hair, pulling it away from his eyes. They fluttered open, those clear blue orbs that were the window to his soul, a good, loving soul. His eyes smiled as they focused on my face. I leaned in and kissed his soft moist lips, gently at first, and then deeper as his hand came up and held the back of my head, pressing my harder against his mouth. My lips parted and his soft warm tongue started probing my private place. A place he knew was his and his alone. Oh how I love this man. We are both in our early sixties, and had met at work a few years ago. We both worked on the same floor for a large insurance company. At first it was just "Hi, how are you." As we passed in the hall, but about five years ago his wife died, and I knew what he was going through. My Gracie had died two years earlier, and I was drawn to him. He needed a friend that understood what he was going through. I helped him with some of the stuff, you know, getting their car transferred out of both their names and into his, dealing with the property transfers, and then the hardest thing of all . . . packing up her personal stuff, and shipping it off to Good Will. I stood beside him at the funeral since they had never had children, and most of their family was gone, or too old to travel. I knew what it felt like to be alone. My hand slid down his chest, stopping at the little tits, teasing, pinching and gently twisting them. My long thin fingers traveled under the edge of the sheet, over the tiny mound of his stomach, poking my finger into his deep belly button, and then continuing down to his coarse, full, bush. I ran my hand through the tangled hair, until I reached the prize, his rock hard, throbbing cock, our lips and tongue still working feverishly. Amazingly, we did not need those little blue pills in the morning, just waking up next to him, the smell of his body, the warmth of his skin and sparkle in his eyes was enough to get me rock hard. Apparently I had the same affect on him. I stroked his man meat, and he moaned, pushing my face harder into his. I started rubbing my cock against his hip, picking up his rhythm, thrusting faster and faster. I thought he was going to swallow my tongue, as his cum started flying, spurt after spurt of his hot thick cum coating my hand, his shaft, and the sheets. My orgasm exploded too, and my cum shot onto his hip and filled my bush with my man seed. Our lips parted, and we both lay back, trying to catch our breath. What a way to start the day. He then said those special words every man says at a time like this . . . "Damn, I need to take a piss." He leaned over and kissed me on the nose, and jumped naked out of bed, his hairy butt cheeks bouncing as he trotted off to the bathroom. I leaned back and closed my eyes listening to his pee hitting the water in the bottom of the bowl. After his wife died we started spending a lot of time together, we went fishing, or played golf on the weekend, coffee after work, that kind of thing. Once in a while we would go to one of our houses and watch a game, toss back a few beers. It wasn't until we started going to the gym together that I started getting a little uncomfortable with our relationship. When I saw him naked for the first time in the gym shower, that long tanned body, his broad manly chest, strong tight legs, and that huge cock between his hairy thighs drooping over those big low hanging balls, and my body responded, I started to get scared. It took me a while to realize that it wasn't just a physical reaction, I think I was falling in love with Marty. How could that be, I was a married man for over thirty years. Our sex life was good, I liked fucking her, she did things that made me moan in bed at night, why in hell was I lusting after an old man. Shit, I knew why, I was in love with him. I started checking out the internet. It seems that it is not unusual for old guys like me to want to explore gay sex, and find love with another man. There are many web-sites dedicated just to men like me. I entered a discussion forum and asked what I should do about my feelings for Marty, everyone that responded thought that I should tell him. But . . . I was so afraid of loosing him as a friend, that I just couldn't do it. We went another year just as friends. It was so hard for me, wanting him and not being able to reach out and touch him. I wondered what his lips would taste like, how it would feel to have his hands touch me in my private places. I wanted to wake up naked next to him in the morning. I wanted to be held, to be wanted the way I once was with Gracie, but I wanted Marty. He came back into the bedroom and broke my reminiscing, he had two cups of coffee, and the morning paper tucked under his arm. Handing me one of the cups of hot black coffee, he climbed back in bed next to me. He stayed on top of the sheets, totally naked and unashamed. He laid on his back, his shapely man legs crossed at the ankles. Cum had dried in his bush, and his cock was in a much more relaxed state. Damn he was one hot man. We sipped coffee and shared the paper. This was one of my favorite things since we retired last year and he moved in permanently, well . . . this and the earth shaking sex. When the coffee was gone, he rolled over next to me, stripping off the sheet and exposing my pale plump body. He leaned in and placed his lips on the head of my soft cock. It sprang to life, not bad for an old geezer like me. He took it in his mouth, his tongue teasing the edges of my cock head, and flicking at the pee slit. His hands gently massaged my nuts, and then wandered to my tight old pucker. "Can I fuck you, Bill?" What a stupid question. I rolled onto my side, pulling the leg on top closer to my chest and extending the one on the bed to expose my hole to him. "I would love you to take me Marty." He slid into position, probing my man cunt with his fingers that were coated with lube he had retrieved from the night stand. He circled my hole with his fingers, pressing one inside, teasing my slightly enlarged prostate. He pressed in a second, tenderly stretched my man pussy, he leaned in, gently pressing his cock into my waiting hole. Slowly, ever so slowly, he entered me as he kissed me on the back of my neck. His tongue licking me at the top of my spine, his large manly cock sliding smoothly in my shoot, what more could a man want. I knew the men were right, I needed to come clean with Marty and let him know how I felt. I was so afraid the night I told him, I just blurted it out one night while we were sitting on my deck drinking a beer. I just said "Marty, I love you." Just like that. He got a kind of funny look on his face, and said "Well, Bill, that's nice, I love you too." When I told him I loved him in a sexual way, not like a brother, he got that devilish look in his eye that I have seen many times since, and said "Yeah, I know what you mean. I love you that way too." And . . . here we are his long thick cock inside me, his rhythm driving me crazy. My special spot being caressed over and over, pushing me closer and closer to the edge, I let out a moan. My cock was rock hard and throbbing with every thrust of his hips. I was getting light headed, I could feel my cum churning in my balls, something deep inside me was tightening, the pressure building. Marty started panting, his hot breath tickling the hair on my neck. He started riding me harder, thrust after thrust, his cock going deeper and deeper inside me pounding that special spot over and over. My cum erupted with a huge amount of force, five large shots of thick, hot, white cum followed by a few more smaller ones as I felt his rod explode inside me. "Damn Bill, OH SHIT . . . AAAAaaaaa." He unloaded his hot man seed inside my hole. He lay on top of me, his arms wrapped around me whispering how much he loved me in my ear as his dick grew soft inside me. I could feel his body heat, and smell our sex . . . I have never had sex this intense. We had sex that first night on my back deck under the stars, both acting a little shy, but forging a bond that will last forever. We both retired the next year, and moved in together. He has been sharing my life and my bed ever since. I guess you are never too old for love. Well, here it is, what do you think. Let me know, I love hearing from men that read my stuff. shyoldguy@hotmail.com , any readers from Lexington, Kentucky?