We had met a few times at the local coffee shop, friendly hellos while standing in line waiting to place our individual orders. Those hellos had led to discussions of politics, art, standing outside smoking a cigarette, drinking coffee before heading our separate ways for the day. On one such day, rain pouring down from the skies outside, standing in line again, turned out we both had the day off, the storm cancelling our jobs in construction.
Brian out of the blue asked, "If you have nothing to do, would love to see some of those photographs you have told me about."
Photography is a passion of mine, my Mac holding thousands of images snapped over the years, the walls of my small basement apartment adorned with framed examples, my own favorites creating my own private gallery. "Sure, not a day to be out in this rain and always love sharing my work. My place is just a few blocks away, but we'll have to make a run for it."
Coffee in hand we ducked out the door into the torrential rain, and with me leading the way the two of us made a run for it, both of us drenched by the time we went down the five steps to my basement apartment and opened the door into the hallway leading to my place. We were both laughing, dripping wet, a puddle quickly forming on the concrete floor. "Let me get us a couple of towels, come on in and make yourself comfortable. "
"Thanks, mind if I strip out of these wet clothes, let them dry out a bit."
"Go for it, I can pop them into the dryer while we have our coffee."
Ducking through the kitchen I grabbed a couple of towels out of the bathroom and came back into the living room to find Chris standing there in just his boxers. For an older man (he was 68) he was still in great shape, a few extra pounds, but toned, hairy chest, and at around 6'4' a good eight inches taller than I. Almost self-consciously, I stripped down to my own briefs, picked up my small pile of wet clothes and allowed him to place his on top of mine before I headed back into the kitchen to toss our damp clothes into the dryer.
"Thanks. Are these pictures on the wall yours?"
"Most of them, let me put on some sweats, and I'll fire up the computer and you can see a lot more."
"Looking forward to it"
I pulled off my briefs, slipped into my sweats and went back into the living room.
"You have a great eye for detail; some of these are really good."
I sat down at my desk and fired up my Mac. "Thanks Chris, photography is a serious passion for me."
"It shows."
The computer on, I brought up a file of photographs and put it on slide show as we drank our coffee.
"Oh, can you go back, I really like that one."
As I stopped the slide show and worked back Chris leaned over my shoulder, his hand resting on my left shoulder. "Yes, that one, really like the composition you captured."
As he spoke I bent forward to grab my mouse and restart the slide program. As I did he set his coffee cup on the desk and put his other hand on my right shoulder and with both hands started massaging my shoulders. For some reason, it felt good, right. "Hmmmm, that feels great".
"Relax and enjoy it, been told I do a great massage."
The slide show back on I leaned back into my chair as he began working my flesh, my shoulder, neck, then my upper back.
"Do you like to get high?"
His hands on my shoulders were relaxing me. "Have not done it in a while, but always enjoy getting a buzz on."
His left hand removed itself from my shoulder for a few moments as he reached into his backpack, then he handed me a previously lit joint with a lighter. "Lean back and let me work your shoulders. Close your eyes lean back and enjoy the rest of that joint. I got buzzed earlier before I ran out for coffee." With that he went back to massaging my shoulders.
I lit the joint, took a couple quick hits then leaned back into my chair closing my eyes. His hands were strong, determined as he worked my shoulders, kneaded up my neck, then massaging my scalp and back again. I kept smoking, getting more relaxed with every puff.
"Does that feel good?"
I moaned in an affirmative fashion, almost unable to speak I was so relaxed.
His hands massaged my shoulders, then worked their way down my chest, his fingers finding my nipples, encircling them pinching them, he placed his lips on mine stifling a moan. His tongue, insistent, demanding pushed its way into my mouth...part of me wanted to resist, but the other side won as I slumped further into the chair, his fingers causing me to jerk every time he pinched and pulled on my nipples, his tongue thrusting deeper, then out leaving me short of breath, weak.
His fingers still on my nipples he pulled away. "Do you like that?
I lay in the chair, excited, stunned, confused.
He pinched my nipple again, harder, and then twirled them in his fingers. "Do you like that?"
I wanted to say no, but instead, almost in a whisper I heard my voice say "Yes, it feels really good, it excites me but shouldn't."
In one move he swiveled the chair around, pulling me out and up as he lips again met mine, his hands snaking down into my sweats, finding my ass cheeks he pulled me into his grip, his strength pulling me against his chest his hand on my ass pulling me against his manhood making me gasp at its size. As much as I intellectually wanted to pull away, I couldn't, his hands kneading my ass cheeks, pulling me into his rapidly swelling cock had me almost weak in the knees. He kissed me again, deeply, his tongue almost choking me as it snaked toward the entrance to my throat. I felt his hands pull out of my sweats, run up my back to my shoulders, then almost intimately he slowly pushed me to my knees as my eyes gazed at the outline of his cock, long, thick, meaty beneath his boxers, the fabric almost straining. Part of me wanted to turn away, resist, stand up, but I was mesmerized by the bulge there at eye level.
