Tales From Schooner Street: Carl

He had apparently looked at his Caller ID when his phone rang, for I was greeted with a very enthusiastic, "Carl!" when Rick answered his phone.

"Hey, Rick," I greeted him in return. "I just finished my route and was wondering if you were up for anything."

"Yeah, sure," he answered. "When?"

"I'm about five minutes away," I told him.

"Okay. Let me jump in the shower. I'll leave the door unlocked for you."

I arrived and let myself in. As I sat on the couch and waited, I thought back to what had gotten us to this point.

I used to frequent a small tavern on the outskirts of town. I learned pretty quick when the most opportune time to go there was: Wednesday and Thursday were a bust because people were gearing up for the weekend, Friday and Saturday was wall-to-wall drunks who wanted nothing more than to start a fight, and Mondays were reserved for those blowing off back-to-work steam, so Tuesdays were just right because there were so very few people out that night.

On this particular night, I was sitting at a table by myself, as usual, enjoying a beer while my fiancée was out doing girlish things with her girlfriends. There was a couple in a booth directly behind me, and a man in his late seventies alone at the bar. I had seen him there before, and he was always polite when he spoke, but for the most part, kept to himself. I was in the mood for some conversation this night, so I invited him over.

We talked about small, insignificant things, but in the course of this I found out he was married and that his wife of forty-seven years was a nurse; he was retired. We both shared an affinity for 50s monster movies, chess, and swore that we could make better spaghetti than the other. I really liked him. His name was Rick, and we became friends.

Every Tuesday night at nine-thirty, rain or shine, Rick and I would meet at Jake's for a beer and some conversation. About one month into our friendship, we got on the topic of women in general, and sex more specific. After trading some stories back and forth, we had decided that when it came to women, we had done it all, which prompted me to ask, "Have you ever been with a man?"

"Never have," Rick answered, "although I have always wondered if a man could blow me just as good as a woman can."

"Yeah, I've wondered the same thing," I told him.

He took a swig of his beer, then said, "Wouldn't really mind finding out with the right guy. You know, someone I knew I could trust?"

"Same here," I responded. I got the feeling he was building toward something, but I didn't want to jump the gun; I'd allow him to address it in his own time.

It took us talking about ten more minutes on the subject before he said, "You ... Uh ... Think you might? You know, want to? With me?"

In all honesty, I thought it would be pretty one-sided. I was in my forties, and my cock worked just fine. I had to wonder about ol' Rick, though. I figured once I got past a wasteland of grizzled, gray hair and balls that hung to his knees, he might get half-hard, if at all. Then, he'd either cum after only a few minutes, or he wouldn't be able to cum at all. Yeah, I had formed some pretty prejudiced opinions, but I mean, come on, the guy was in his seventies.

"Uh, sure," I answered. "Why not? I mean, two guys taking that next step. It should be interesting, if nothing else."

He gave me his address and told me that his wife went to work at four the next day, so any time after that would be good.

I arrived at four-thirty and he answered the door with a towel wrapped around his waist. I immediately looked down and didn't detect a boner, so I was pretty sure what the evening was going to boil down to.

He said he wanted me to go first because he was nervous and maybe him coming would loosen him up, so I did. He led me to his bedroom, removed the towel, lay on the bed, and I was amazed to see his seven-and-a-half-inch cock standing up like a sun dial. Furthermore, its thickness surpassed my own. "Damn, Rick," I said as I took it in my hand, and marveled at its fullness and warmth.

I saturated my lips with saliva, then softly pressed them together. I placed them at the tip of his cock and allowed him to penetrate me. He moaned, "Oh, damn," as he entered my hot, wet mouth. I sucked the entirety of his soft yet firm purplish head into my mouth and held it there as I allowed my tongue to dance around it. "Oh, Carl. That shit feels so fucking good." I sucked a little, then moved back and forth across the head, allowing it to plop in and out of my mouth. "Oh, shit. You keep that up and I'm going to cum." Seemed like a good invitation to me, so I continued, and sure enough, a few minutes later he was spurting his ag

ed

semen down my throat. It was so thick and creamy, and I swallowed every drop.

I did not immediately come off his cock. The truth of it was, I really enjoyed how it felt in my mouth. I began to take a little more, then a little more, then a little more, and was surprised to see he was still hard. "Are you trying to make me cum again?" He asked.

"Mmm-hmmm," I answered around his cock.

He said nothing else. He lay back and allowed me to enjoy myself. I was able to deep throat him all except for that last quarter inch. Again, it wasn't because of the length, but the girth. That was one fat slab of cockmeat ol' Rick had on him. Still, I took him as far back into my throat as I could, and after another ten minutes of this kind of attention, he came again, just as much as before, and I savored every drop and it found its way into my belly.

When I was done, he said, "Man, even my wife doesn't suck my dick that good."

"Maybe she's forgotten how beautiful it is," I suggested.

"I don't know," he said, "but I hope I can do for you what you did for me."

I pulled my shorts and underwear off, lay back, and gave Rick access to my cock. He began by sucking my balls, then he worked his way up the shaft before talking my cock into his mouth. He bobbed without rhythm and rolled my around in his mouth, and it was so standard and generalized that I began to lose interest.

I had recently become infatuated with a ladyboy I saw on a porn website who called herself Areeya. Man, she was hot. I imagined it was Areeya sucking my dick, and I regained my full hardness. Rick continued to suck me, and soon enough I was sploojing in his mouth. To his credit, he did swallow, but afterward he admitted that perhaps sucking cock wasn't his thing after all, and I respected that.

"I rather enjoyed it," I told him, "so if you're okay with it, I'd like to continue doing this for you."

"Good as you are, I won't turn you down," he told me, and from there we had met at least once a week for me to suck his cock, which is why I was here now.

"Hi," Rick said as he sat down on the sofa next to me. He slid back and spread his legs, and I took his wonderfully hard seventy-plus year-old cock into my mouth and began to suck it just as I have all along.