At twenty two years of age it appeared as if I had it all. I was going steady with a very pretty girl. She was a student in another part of the country. I had a good job in the catering industry and I got on well with my new stepfather who was ten years younger than my mum. In the cafe where I worked I was popular with the clientele who were, in the main, mature people, retirees or older couples. My upbeat nature and friendly attitude, combined with my natural desire to please, made the customers happy. Everyone who came to Cafe Cool loved Don.
One man in particular came in everyday and I got to know him quite well. He was in his sixties, quite tall, over six feet, and he had a lovely friendly smile. His name was Freddie and he insisted I call him by his first name. No one knew the dark secret this nice man kept hidden behind his public persona, a secret he had kept for fifty years. Little did I know, that the secret he kept from the world, was one that I would soon learn from him and come to love and embrace as my very own, in spite of myself.
When it came to secrets, Freddie was not alone. I had some dark secrets of my own, that I did not want anyone else to know about. I enjoyed looking at naked older men on the internet. I especially loved men with black pubic hair and circumcised, cocks. I was mesmerized by their shiny purple, mushroom shaped cock heads, with pre-cum dripping from the slits of their pee holes. I just could not help myself. I wondered what it would be like to hold one in my hand and feel its power. My obsession with older men dominated my masturbation sessions and most of my free time was spent looking at daddy/son porn. The beautiful cocks I saw also made me feel inadequate as a man. I was slowly and unknowingly brainwashing myself and subconsciously associating sexual pleasure and release, with naked, older, dominant, men.
I had found out that my own pleasure was maximized when I rubbed myself to a climax, catching my load inside a pair of ladies' soft panties, and then I would delight in the flavor and texture of my own cum, by sucking it off the panties afterwards. Of course, I had to be careful not to get caught by my mum or my sister. The humiliation would have been impossible to take and they would make my life a misery thereafter. Hence I was only able to do this every now and again, when I would have time to hand wash and then dry the sodden garment that had enhanced my dirty little fantasy about an older man, with a fat cock, coming on to me.
That's why I was so happy in my job. I had lots of opportunity to meet older guys and I always made a point of shaking hands with them, just to feel their big strong hands and I loved it when they would say how small and soft my hand was. Some of them would hold my hand in both their hands and often put an arm around my shoulders to give me a little squeeze. I really enjoyed that and later, alone, would play with my cock imagining that it was their big strong, warm hands that were touching me. Freddie always did both these things and I did not mind at all. He often called me Donna instead of Don and we had a good laugh at that too and before you ask the answer is yes. I did fantasize about Freddie lots of times and wonder what his cock looked like.
One day, Freddie told me he had bought himself a computer but that he hadn't got a clue how to set it up nor how to get into and use the "world-wide spider's web thing." He wanted to learn how to send e-mails and use "Skip" and get himself into the 20th century. Well, of course, I laughed at the things he said and asked him if his wife could not do it. She had no interest, he told me, and still preferred to write letters and use the old telephone.
I explained to Freddie that, first of all, it was the 21st century; that the internet was called, the "World-wide Web" and that it was "Skype" and not "Skip." So when he asked me if I could come round on Saturday morning and sort things out for him, I thought it was the least I could do. I liked Freddie and felt sorry for him. His wife, Pamela, always seemed to be cross with him and was very bossy. I told him I would be glad to help him out. He told me he would make it worth my while and I said that there would be no charge. I was so naive. He wrote his address on a piece of paper which I stuck in my pocket.
"You are such a good boy, Donna," he said. "Oh, so sorry, I mean Don." We both laughed at his slip of the tongue. "See you Saturday morning around ten o-clock."
So on that beautiful, warm, Saturday morning, wearing a white t-shirt, tight yellow shorts with a nylon gusset, that meant that you did not have to wear underpants, white, ankle socks and a pair of trainers, I found myself on the porch of Freddie's bungalow. I waved goodbye to my stepfather who had dropped me off. I rang the bell several times before the door was opened by Freddie, who stood there in a short, white, silky dressing gown and slippers. It was obvious that he had just got out of bed.
"Come in, Don, come in. I must have slept in. Do forgive me. Pam, my wife has left to visit her sister. Help yourself to some coffee. Pam made it before she left. I must have fallen asleep again. Do forgive me. Make yourself at home while I shower. Here, let me get you some of this special coffee Pam makes, then I'll show you to my basement lair, where everything is ready for your expertise."
Freddie poured me a large cup of coffee and brought me down to the basement.
"Don't start until I come back. I want to teach you everything. I mean I want you to teach me everything. Thanks a bunch for coming over. You look cute, Don." He went off to have a shower.
The coffee was strong the way I liked it and seemed to be sweet too. I looked around his den. The computer was still in boxes, beside his desk. There was a large sofa bed along one wall and a large, HD plasma TV on the wall, with a DVD player below. On a shelf were at least fifty DVD's. I sat down on the sofa and drank my coffee. Ten minutes passed, my coffee was finished and there was no sign of Freddie. I was feeling thirsty and decided to get more coffee. It sure tasted good.
I had just filled my cup and was walking to the basement stairs, when I heard Freddie's footsteps on the floorboards up the corridor. I turned to look and there he was, reaching for the bathroom door handle, dressing gown draped over one arm, naked as the day he was born. I couldn't help but look at him. He just smiled at me and said that he would not be long. I walked down the stairs with pictures of his naked body in my mind. He was in very good shape for his age. Slim build, strong arms and torso, well, muscled legs. His torso was covered in grey and black hair and his legs were ever so hairy too. What dominated my mind though, was what lay below his little paunch.
He had a mass of thick, black, pubic hair, that extended towards his tummy and a pronounced treasure trail, that ran from the end of his beautiful pubic hair right up to his tummy button. Protruding from the depths of his beautiful, thick, curly, black, pubic hair, was a very thick, purple-headed, circumcised cock, about four inches in length. The mushroom shaped crown of his cock seemed so fat to me and was at least half of the four inches of his cock. Below that spectacular purple crown hung a pair of very hairy, very heavy balls, one just slightly lower than the other but both of them were clearly full and round.
My mind was in a whirl. I did not want to think about his naked body, his hairy body, his jet black pubic hair, his gorgeous cock, but as I sat on the sofa drinking coffee, I could not get those pictures out of my mind. He had smiled at me. Had he seen me looking at his cock? I was so embarrassed yet so turned on at the same time. What the hell was wrong with me? To distract myself I switched on the TV. A DVD was playing.
Oh Christ it was porn! I was going to switch it off when all of a sudden my cock became rock hard and I mean so hard it hurt. I drank more coffee. The movie played. Cum shots all over a young girl. I could not take my eyes of it. My cock ached to be touched. I dare not. I had to. Oh my God, that is a girl with a dick, it is not a real girl. I touched myself. My face flushed. I felt so hot. I set the cup down on the coffee table. I leaned back. I had to get out of here, right now. I switched off the TV. My cock would just not go down. It begged me to touch it. I resisted. I stood up and walked to the stairs and there he was, on his way down, fully dressed in slacks, shirt and slippers, with a coffee in his hand, smiling at me, as if nothing had happened.
"Ready to get started then, Don? I am so looking forward to getting started, aren't you?"
