Hitching a Ride

There was a time when hitch-hiking was a very popular way of getting around the roads of Scotland. Lots of people didn't have a car in the 1980's so if people wanted to get around, particularly if they lived in the countryside where there were no buses, hitch-hiking was the way to travel.

I worked on a farm and had a small bothy in the countryside, about eight miles from the nearest town. If I needed shopping, I would cycle to the main road, about two miles away and hitch-hike into town. Sometimes you had to wait some time for a car to stop but usually you got a lift quite easily. If it was raining, people were reluctant to stop, nobody wanted a stranger dripping wet in their car so I only went to town if the weather was okay.

One day, I had cycled to the main road and stuck my bicycle behind the straw bales and thumbed a lift. No problem, I got a lift quite quickly and got dropped off outside the shops. I got my provisions and walked along to the junction and stuck the thumb out. A couple of cars passed without stopping. I wasn't concerned, someone would stop eventually.

Five minutes later, an old guy pulled over and asked where I was heading. I told him where I was going and he smiled, opening the door for me to get in. Great, I thought to myself. People stopping for hitch-hikers often wanted someone to talk to and this guy was no exception. He told me his name was Ian and he was just going out for a drive. He was a widower and, sadly his wife had died three years ago. He was quite witty, coming out with some brilliant stories.

As he drove, he touched my leg as he changed gear. Ever so gently so it looked like it was accidental. He seemed to change gear quite often. Was this guy making a pass at me? Another gear change led to another light touch on my leg and he smiled. God, he is coming on to me. I didn't fancy him at all. He was a lot older than me, in his Sixties I would guess but looked in good shape. He seemed very interested in me, asking loads of questions which I was more than happy to answer.

We reached the junction where my bicycle was parked and he stopped to let me out. He hesitated and then he offered to take me to my bothy, he wasn't in any rush and I thought, why not? It was better than cycling up the big hill to the farm. He suggested we put the bicycle in the car, which was not at all easy. I almost gave up but he went round the other side and pulled as I pushed until we had the bicycle in the car. I gave him directions to my bothy and he continued to touch my leg as he changed gear. I didn't bother, it was probably accidental.

The final stretch of the journey was a half mile farm track which did not have a good surface. I heard his car scraping through the pot holes, bumps and stones. He slowed right down, no longer changing gear, and he steered a course through the worst of the pot holes. I pointed to my bothy as it appeared on the crest of the hill. My dog, which was in a kennel, started barking madly as we approached.

Ian helped me get the cycle out of his car. I brushed the dirt it had left on the seat, apologizing to him. He laughed and dismissed it. The least I could do was offer him a cup of coffee, which he accepted, following me into the bothy.

I showed him through to the living room and he sat down on the settee as I made the coffee. I didn't have much in the way of furniture, it was just a small place. When I brought the coffee through, he was sitting in the middle seat of the settee. I didn't have any other chairs so I had to sit next to him on the settee.

I was sitting so close to him that his leg was against mine. He didn't move along, just sat there chatting. I could feel his leg pushing against mine. He knew what he was doing. Ian was definitely coming on to me. I just wasn't interested and wasn't sure how best to handle it, without offending the guy. He would finish his coffee shortly and then leave, surely. He seemed to take my ignoring his leg as a signal and put his hand on my knee briefly and squeezed. He continued to make me laugh with his stories and as I laughed, he touched me more and more.

He was a nice guy, no doubt of that. An old guy on his own, just someone looking for company. As he put his cup down, he touched his groin, again very briefly. And then, he made a very bold move, one that shocked me and left me in no doubt that he was coming on to me. He reached over and squeezed my cock. I stood up. He apologized profusely. He looked genuinely sorry. He stood up and said it was time for him to go. Then I saw it. I looked at his groin and could see the shape of a hard cock. God, the guy was turned on all right. He thanked me for the coffee and walked to the door.

I get really turned on when I see a hard cock. I just can't help myself and this guy had a hard cock. I touched his arm and told him he didn't have to go. He sat down again and I sat next to him. He told me he had feelings for other men, even though he had remained faithful to his wife throughout their marriage. He had suppressed the feelings for a long time. He told me about Alan, a guy who was in the Navy with him and another guy he met before he was married. I warmed to him as he talked. He really was a lonely man.

When he saw me standing beside the road with my thumb out, he told me that he got excited, wondering what might happen if he gave me a lift. I was warming to him, I felt sorry for him.

'What would you like to happen?' I asked.

'I'd like to suck your cock,' he replied quietly.

I was silent for a moment, wondering if I should stop it now and let him go. He was offering a blow job. Should I be tempted? He's sixty-five, why should I feel tempted?

I got up and stood in front of him. He looked at me and fondled me. As he worked on me, he pulled down his zip and took his cock out. Well, that did it for me. He had a long thick cock and he was hard. He was also cut. I'd never seen a cock that didn't have a foreskin. God, it was exciting. I gave in at that point. As soon as I saw his cock with the lovely purple head, I was hooked. Surely not with a guy older than my father? Yes, I was hooked.

He undid my zip and slowly pulled out my cock. I was getting stiff and he seemed pleased to have my cock in his hands. He wanked me, but in a way that nobody had wanked me before. He held me with the finger tips of two fingers and a thumb. He never gripped me at all, just rubbed me really slowly with his finger tips. It actually felt really nice. I stood there, enjoying what he was doing. He was rubbing his cock in the same way as mine. God, it did look a lovely cock.

He pulled me towards him and took my cock in his mouth, licking my head. Once again, wanking me slowly. He really was very gentle. It didn't take me long and I moaned that I was going to cum. He didn't speed up at all, he continued to wank me slowly with his finger tips, kissing and licking my head. I moaned as I felt myself cum, God, it was a nice one. He swallowed it, every drop.

I sat down as I recovered. He was still wanking himself. I reached across and replaced his hand with mine. I wanked him just the way he wanked me. He closed his eyes as I knelt down in front of him and sat in front of his cock. I was fascinated by his cock head. I leaned forward and kissed his cock, licking the head. He moaned and I sucked him, groaning as I took his full length in my mouth. God, here I am with a sixty-five year old cock.....and I was enjoying it. I wanted him to cum in my mouth.

It took a lot of slow wanking before I realized he was almost there. I squeezed his cock and fondled his balls. He moaned loudly when he came, really making a loud noise as his spunk filled my mouth. I swallowed it, squeezing the last drops from his cock.

He sat there with his eyes closed, not saying a word. I hoped he was alright. Slowly, he relaxed and thanked me. In fact he really thanked me, he threw his arms around me.

'First time in over forty years, I've done that,' he informed me with delight on his face. I did enjoy it myself, he gave a really nice blow job, I was feeling satisfied. I made another cup of coffee and we sat there chatting. He really was quite interesting, telling me of his National Service years in the Navy.

He wanted to see me again. He invited me to have my lunch with him at his place, sometime soon. I never turn down a free lunch, so I accepted. I gave him a pen and paper for him to write down his address. Shortly after, I walked to the door with him, thanking him again for the lift. He kissed me on the cheek and thanked me. I watched his car disappear down the track. He was bouncing over the bumps and I smiled.

I didn't give him much thought as I got on with my life. We had arranged to have lunch on the Saturday and I kept wondering if I should go or not. Did I really want to get involved with someone so old? He gave a good blow job and he is also offering lunch, I was tempted. I would see how I feel when Saturday comes.

Saturday morning saw me at the main road, thumbing a lift into town. I didn't have to wait long. A lorry picked me up and took me right into the centre of town. I had a fair idea where he lived so I walked. I wasn't particularly keen, thinking he was just too old but a free lunch was tempting, and he was funny and he also had a lovely cock. Yes, I was tempted.

I followed the door numbers as I walked to his house. I stood at the gate, thinking this was a posh house. He had an immaculate front garden, flowers leading right up to the door. It was a large bungalow. I took a deep breath as I opened the gate and walked to his door. I wondered if he had gone off the idea and went out so as to avoid me.

He answered the door and greeted me with a big grin.

'I wasn't sure if you would come,' he said, giving me a warm smile and inviting me in.

He led me through to the lounge which was very bright with windows on two sides. He had some old music from the nineteen-fifties playing on the stereo. 'Lunch in ten minutes,' he informed me, leaving me alone in the lounge. I looked around, noticing the ornaments and photographs he had decorating the place. I assumed the old woman was his wife. She looked nice and friendly. There was a picture of their wedding. I could still recognize him, even though he was forty years younger.

He came through and led me to the dining room. A dining room, I thought, I don't know anyone who has a dining room. How posh. I sat down to a plate of lamb chops and new potatoes. He picked up a bottle of wine and poured me a glass. Wine with lunch? God, I'm getting spoiled.

Ian was such great company. He did most of the talking and he knew so much. He could talk about anything. I quickly relaxed in his company, he was charming and made me feel so welcome. I enjoyed my lunch, he was a great cook, the chops were so tender and tasty.

I helped him with the cleaning up. He had a lovely modern kitchen with, of all things, a dish-washer. I'd never seen a dish-washer before. He loaded the plates in, switched the thing on and led me back to the lounge, taking our glasses with us. Unlike me, he had plenty of seats, I sat on the settee and he sat next to me. The music was still playing. The wine had relaxed me and I was feeling contented.

I told Ian more of my life. I was twenty-one, I worked on a farm, I'd had four men in my life but was currently single. I lived in a bothy, which he had seen, on my own and didn't get the opportunity to meet people. Just an ordinary life, nothing exciting at all.

We finished our wine and Ian asked me if I would like a shower? A shower? He has a shower? I don't even know anyone with a shower. He was sweeping me off my feet today, this was great. He was so warm and friendly. I accepted and he led me through to the bedroom. He had a shower room in his bedroom. Wow, I was getting excited. To top it all, he had one of these new duvet things on his bed, no blankets. I had never in my life been under a duvet.

He stood in front of me and slowly undressed me. I reached for his belt and undid his trousers, I could feel him getting hard. I touched his cock and pulled down his underpants, he stepped out of them. I was naked now and Ian was kissing my neck. He led me through to the shower which was huge. Easily enough room for two. He stepped in and I followed him, feeling the water cascading over me. He turned and, for the first time, kissed me. He held my face in his hands and kissed me like I had never been kissed before. He was so gentle. If you ignore the age difference, Ian was the nicest guy I had been with, not that I had been with many.

I put my arms around him, pulling him closer so that our cocks were together. He was getting harder. He reached for the soap and washed me, all over and he took his time too. It was lovely. His hands were all over me and he was nudging his cock against my ass as he washed me. It was sensual and tender, I was getting so excited. He turned me around, knelt down and washed my cock, slowly wanking it. I shut my eyes, enjoying the feel of his tongue. I had to stop him, I was going to cum and I didn't want to yet. I wanted to be nice to Ian, to thank him for lunch.

I pulled him up and kissed him, taking the soap from him. I washed his back, lingering around his ass, he turned and I washed his chest, working downwards, I gripped his cock. Yes, he was getting nice and hard. His cock looked amazing. The first cut cock I've ever seen and it looked so horny. He loved the feel of my tongue as I teased his bulbous head. He moaned as I fondled his balls. I wondered how long it would take him to cum.

He stopped me, turned off the shower and took my hand, leading me to the bed. He picked up the towel and started to dry me. Gosh, I was feeling great. I was getting swept off my feet by this guy. Ignore the age and it's just like being with any other guy. Although it wasn't just like being with any other guy. Ian's the only guy I've met that wants to make love rather than have a quick shag. That made him special.

I turned and took the other towel and dried Ian. His eyes were closed. I teased his nipples, wondering if he was sensitive there and he responded. I licked his nipple and he wrapped his arms round me. I felt his erection nudging my leg. He lay down on the bed, moving over to let me lie beside him. We held each other and he kissed me again. God, he was a wonderful kisser. We rubbed our cocks together and I reached down, clutching them both. Remembering how he rubbed my cock, I slowly rubbed his cock with my finger tips. He moaned and I kissed him again. He worked on me with his tongue and fingers. All over, my body and he seemed to know where my sensitive parts were. I was writhing about on the bed, he was fantastic.

I asked him what he would like me to do for him, thinking he would want to fuck me. And I would let him, if he wanted to. He smiled at me, a really dreamy smile and said he wanted us to cum together, in each other's mouth at the same time. I slid down the bed and turned on my side, thinking a duvet was very warm because I was feeling so hot. Hot and very turned on. He took me in his mouth and I moaned. He slipped between my lips and pushed, and I took him, all the way in. For a sixty-five year old, he was still able to get it up because his cock was delicious.

He showed me how he liked to be wanked, long slow strokes with my finger tips, working in time with my mouth. He tasted great, I tried my best to please him, everything I knew about cock sucking I was doing and he was responding. For someone who hadn't had a cock for forty years, he knew what he was doing. This was great, the first time I had made love, rather than just shag a guy.

He moaned that he was going to cum. I relaxed, confident that with his lips doing what they're doing to my cock, I could cum in time with him. I felt thrills running down my back as I relaxed while he wanked me, slowly and carefully. God, all my senses were heightened, I was so turned on. I felt Ian stiffen in my mouth and I quickly cupped his balls. They moved in my hand as he started to spurt his lovely hot spunk in my mouth. I came immediately he did and he moaned as he enjoyed the sensations. So did I, God, I moaned because it felt fantastic.

I moved back up the bed and he kissed me. I could taste my spunk on his lips. He lay on his back and I lay with my head on his shoulder, my fingers stroking his chest. We lay there, in each other's arms under a duvet. I couldn't get over how light and warm the duvet was. My thoughts drifted as I started to snooze. I could feel his heart beating against my fingers. He was holding me tight. I felt so warm, secure and.....loved...., I guess.

I asked him how he was so good at sucking cock if he hadn't been with anyone for years. He told me it was because he had always fantasized about it. For all these years with his wife he had fantasized about men. He told me now, with me, he could act out his fantasies. He wanted to be held in the strong arms of a guy, to feel their hard cock against him, to get a man hard and suck him off, to cum in another man's mouth. It seemed a simple fantasy. He wasn't into anal, and that's the second guy I've met that doesn't do anal. He just wanted the closeness, the intimacy of another man.

I lay there, deep in thought. I enjoyed our session. So what if he's older, there's still a young guy in there at heart. I had nobody special at all in my life. I liked him, I liked him a lot. Gentle and sensitive. I could learn from this guy. He asked me if I would come again, next Saturday. I held him tight, in my strong arms, my cock against him, just as he likes it. 'Of course I would love to visit again,' I replied.

I looked forward to our time together. Every Saturday for several weeks, I'd been hitching a lift to town to meet him. He always made lunch and we retired to his bedroom to make love. After we made love, I came to enjoy lying in his arms, just as he enjoyed lying in mine. I love the place an orgasm takes you. It's like a drug. It makes me sleepy and dreamy.

The age difference made no difference to me. He was my friend and lover. I loved holding his cock, getting it hard and making him cum. Sometimes it would take him a while but I persevered, I enjoyed it when he came, I felt good when he came. And he satisfied me too.

The weeks rolled into months and I saw as much of Ian as we could. The sex was good. He didn't always cum, sometimes he went soft and he told me it was just his age. Nonetheless, he still made me cum and he got pleasure from that.

Sometimes we would go for a drive, somewhere nice. I would buy him lunch, as a thank you for all the lunches he made me. We went to St. Andrews on the Fife coast one afternoon. It was cold and wet and the beach was abandoned. It didn't stop us. We walked down to the water and stood, looking out to the sea. It was so dark and miserable looking that it was melancholy. I held his arm as we watched the waves. He took my hand as we walked along the beach. Outside, by the sea, holding hands. Ian was happy. I was glad I brought some happiness into his life. I was happy too.

Sex was special to Ian, and to me. What was more important to Ian was the intimacy of a man coming in his mouth. He was okay about the times he didn't cum, when he couldn't manage. I did my best but some days, he just couldn't. He kept telling me it wasn't important, that he would just wait and cum the next time.

One day, he said he had a surprise for me. He had rented a cottage for a week in the Grampian hills that winter. A holiday, he told me. I hadn't had a holiday in years. 'Just me and you,' he said, 'middle of winter, nobody around for miles, lovely log fire burning, candles burning and some good food and wine.' I hugged him when he surprised me with that. I was so excited.

We had packed everything we would need into Ian's car and set off on the Sunday. It wasn't too far a drive which I was glad about. I don't feel safe driving on the snow. He picked the keys up and drove along a long narrow road to the cottage.