This story took a very long time to compose so I apologize to all those who have written to me asking for a new story. I hope this will suffice. This story will include group sex, threesomes, bisexuality, anal sex et al. If this is not your thing, please move on.
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I am an old man. I have to face the facts. I am. I'm entering the Death Decade and my approaching mortality is looming ever stronger in my mind. I'm a few months from seventy and I feel it. Nothing serious, just old age complaints: sore joints, mental lapses, other disheartening things. What can be done about it? What can I do about this? Well, nothing, actually. Just accept it and give each day new meaning, new hope and stall as long as I can. I mean, something may happen today to make aging into decrepitude worthwhile.
For a man of my age, my health isn't bad - like, nothing urgent, no vitals failing, thank God. It's not as if my body is a temple. I mean, maybe a temple of hedonism. I don't take care of myself and never did. I smoke (super lights in excess), I drink (a little wine, a little yak; I never get drunk), I smoke pot in excess (but who can blame me), except for walking my dog constantly (he's big and active), I don't exercise but I must walk a couple of miles a day. I'm not what you would call a prime specimen of health. However, I am rather good-looking (ahem!), I'm not trim, not buff but not fat, typical male pattern baldness - you know, like average. But creeping age plays tricks and lately, I'm concerned with an untrustworthy penis, the kind that won't stay hard and won't cum and most times, not even little blue pills help. I don't trust it. I'm not a happy camper.
I'll give you an example of what I'm talking about. Recently, I got a call inviting me to visit some old friends who were down here on their annual vacation. I've always kept a special place in my heart (and loins) for the fantastic oral pleasures I shared with them. Anyway, they were staying about two and a half hours away so I packed up and hauled downstate; it was a long trip full of traffic but the anticipation of a great night made it all worthwhile. We started to play just as soon as I got there as they couldn't wait either. For a couple of hours, we licked and sucked each other in every which way possible. The Viagra worked it's magic and I was like a steel rod the whole time. The problem was that I couldn't cum...and believe me, I tried. Ordinarily, I might not think that a bad thing however, when you're with a pair of rabid cum sluts, like Tom Petty said, the waiting is the hardest part. I tried everything, I fucked, I sucked, I wanked but after a couple of hours, my penis had had enough and was pathetically flaccid. I don't know what happened but I was embarrassed and frustrated. They tried to make light of it but I knew they were disappointed, too. On my long trip home, I wondered what has happening to me. I couldn't remember when the last time my dick let me down in such a humiliating way.
I saw my doctor the next week. He said that it was not unusual for a man of my age. He told me not to worry. I heard him but my brain couldn't seem to accept his explanation. I moped around for a few days but then, after successfully jerking off, I felt better. It DID work after all! Still, I lost some confidence and was afraid it had become unreliable after all these hard-working years. This was scary.
So it was that day that I was progressing with my daily regimen. I was up to "Number 3: go to the beach and walk the dog." So far, this day was just like all the others. In terms of a daily chore, it wasn't bad at all. I mean, I walk the beach on warm sunny days and look at the babes, especially those attracted to my babe-magnet dog. On one hand, I risk being called a "dirty old man" but on the other, I can't resist glomming close-up looks at those young, heaving breasts and those mouth-watering camel-toes, especially from behind when they bend over to pet him. Was I even a tiny bit jealous of him? You bet. I was internally drooling. I guess I'm still young in my head. I mean, I ain't dead yet.
Since it was a weekday, the beach was rather deserted in long stretches. Just a little walk past the parking lot and I started to spot nude and topless women, discreetly behind windbreaks, umbrellas and up in the tree line. Ah, nature! My dog didn't care nor notice and happily pulled me down the beach. Since I couldn't see a soul ahead, I let him off the leash and threw a ball. Instantly, he bolted into the surf, joyously bouncing through the water until he got the ball. We happily played fetch for about a half-hour until he finally had enough (although I must admit, it was about twenty-five minutes too long for me. I, too, was whipped; my throwing arm was ready to fall off.) As we sat in the sand, we surveyed. No one. Just beach, water and palm trees. We set out back to the parking lot. About a couple of hundred yards up, I saw someone the shade of the palms waving to me. Hell, my vision ain't too good these days either and I could not make him out.
As we got closer, a voice called me but I still didn't know who was calling me. Finally, I recognized that it was a beach buddy, a fellow beach bum, Pete, who was waving to me.
"Ray, how you doin', fella?"
"Not bad considering, Pete. Whatcha' doin' hiding in the trees?"
"Oh, just taking it easy and smoking a blunt. Care to partake?"
