Do People Really Do That

Let me start by saying I'm 70 years old, married for nearly 50 of those years to the same woman, and mostly faithful for all of those years. There was one brief fling at an out of town conference, it wasn't very satisfactory, I felt badly afterwards, and I never repeated it, and that was nearly thirty years ago.

I probably look like what I am, a retired college professor, gray haired, skinny but not athletic, a little stooped, the kind of demeanor that folks describe as "mild mannered." I try to walk three miles a day, but that's the main exercise I get.

I live in a small town in upstate New York, near the college I taught at for three decades, and I had traveled to Massachusetts to attend the funeral of an old friend and colleague. He was the first of us to go, and as I drove back alone, I was feeling my mortality, and thinking of all the things I'd never done.

I stopped at a rest area about halfway home, got a cup of coffee, and decided to stretch my legs, get a little of my daily walking in...my Fitbit scolds me if I don't.

I walked around the rest area, past the dog park, past the grassy area around the edge, and when I got to the end of it and went to cut back, I found I was in the middle of thicket of huge trailer trucks. I went to cut through them, when a trucker leaned his head out of his window and called out, "Hey, pal!"

I looked up. "Me?"

"Yeah, you. You wanna give me a blow job?"

I couldn't believe my ears. "What?"

"You wanna suck my cock?"

"What on earth would make you think that?"

"What else you doin' walkin' out here?"

"I really...just walking. I don't...I've never done anything like that."

"Hey, your loss."

He started to roll his window back. It was dusk, and getting hard to see clearly, but he looked to be about 30 years old, and maybe it was a trick of the light, but he reminded me of Marlon Brando playing Stanley Kowalski in A Streetcar Named Desire. I said, "Wait a minute."

He rolled his window back down.

"Do people really do that? Walk through here, looking for..."

"It's been known to happen."

"My goodness. I never imagined..."

He was starting to roll his window back up again. I stepped closer to the truck.

"It's something I never even thought about doing."

"Thinkin' about it now?"

He reached over and opened up the passenger's side door. I walked around to it. "Hop in," he said.

"I haven't agreed to anything," I said.

"Don't worry, I won't force you," he said. "Probably."

I climbed up in the cab.

"My name's Mitch," he said.

"Fred." Fred really is my name. I didn't have the presence of mind to give a false one. He extended his hand and I shook it. He had a powerful grip, but not bone crushing. His thumbs looked massive, and I thought of all those stories about the size of thumbs, and I couldn't help wondering...I looked down at his lap, and he saw me.

"Wanna see it?"

I nodded.

He unzipped.

It was curled up, like a bird in a nest. Not so different from mine. Maybe thicker. I leaned over. I had never really looked at a man's penis before. There was something compelling about it, for sure. But that didn't mean I wanted to...

I felt his hand on the back of my, and suddenly my lips were touching flesh.

He held me there, firmly but not roughly. I felt that I could still shake free, and he wouldn't stop me. It was my choice. And I don't know why I made the choice I did, but I opened my mouth.

And suddenly I had entered a different world. Suddenly there was the head of a man's cock in my mouth. It felt like nothing I had ever felt before. I was in Wonderland. I was in a place that didn't seem real, or else seemed more real than any place I had ever been in before.

For a few moments I did nothing. I just held it there, this cock, this male cock, bulbous, spongy but solid, between my lips. Then I tentatively reached out my tongue and started measuring its dimensions.

And I felt it starting to grow. I felt it pushing further into my mouth, I felt it getting bigger, and harder, and I felt myself drawn to it. My arms reached out, almost without my willing them, and encircled his waist, drawing him closer to me, and my lips were starting to move up and down his shaft and my tongue was sliding and gliding over and under and around it.

So this is what it feels like, I remember saying to myself. This is me, sucking a cock. Take time and print it on your memory, because it may never happen again.

My lips kept moving up and down. My mouth felt wet, as wet as the inside of a vagina. Part of me was oblivious to anything else except that sensation, and part of me seemed to be standing back, looking at me, saying, You're actually doing this. You're a 70 year old man who's never done anything crazy in his life, in the cab of a big truck, sucking the cock of a trucker who looks like Stanley Kowalski. I don't know whether to cheer for you or pity you.

And then, before I hardly knew it, that distant feeling faded, and another, more intense one, took over. Love. I was in love with this cock, with this trucker. I wrapped my arms more tightly around his waist, pulled myself closer to him, took him deeper into my mouth. For a moment I felt myself gagging and the the reflex passé, and had him all the way inside. My nose was pressed against his pubic bone, my mouth was fucking him. I could hear him moaning, and I could hear animal noises coming from me, and I could feel him pulsing, and growing bigger, and I melted into him, as hot cum shot down my throat and I felt my whole body glow like liquid fire.

I held his cock in my mouth a little longer, feeling it grow soft, not quite ready to give up this moment. But I did. I sat up. And as I did, I was no longer in love. And he no longer looked like Marlon Brando. He was ordinary looking, but nice looking. And I felt very happy.

"Do you do this often?" I asked.

"Now and then," he said. "But not quite like that. You know something, old man? You were the best I ever had."

"Well, thank you," I said. "That may be the best compliment I ever got."

"We could do this again," he said.

I smiled. "I don't think so," I said. "But I'll remember you."

"Well, remember this," he said. "Because this is something I've never done before." And he took my face in both his hands, and pulled me close, and kissed me. It was a long and tender kiss, a loving kiss.

Then he straightened up, put his cock inside his pants. I saw it disappear. He zipped himself, and I climbed down from the cab of the truck, walked back to my car, and drove the rest of the way home.

Melanie was asleep. I got in bed next to her, spoon position, as I had for so many years. My cock pressed against the round smoothness of her ass, and I felt totally fulfilled.