The Missed Union

I remembered life working and living in Scranton, Pennsylvania, as after college I snagged my first teaching gig at a private school instructing English to sixth and seventh graders.

I was there for six years, as I fell in love with the area the moment I was hired, and got entrenched in the local culture as I frequented places like Cooper's Seafood House, my favorite spot for its Maryland Crab Roll and Shrimp Sampler.

The city had other amenities like The Drive In, and I lodged in my quaint little apartment on a hill, overlooking what seemed to be the greenest parts of the state of Pennsylvania in the Poconos.

I felt I would work at the school forever, as it paid well, and the student and parent base was strong, then it hit a financial dent.

"Mr. Gordon I'm sorry, but I won't be able to renew your contract," Henry told me, as he was the bearer of bad news being the principal.

This came at a time where I bought a house, and looked at other financial avenues to increase wealth. Being the person I am, I didn't fret, for I gathered my resume and put in for jobs in places like Texas or Tennessee, and a school in Dallas would not only accept my application, but offered me the chance to grow career wise.

"I will always come back to visit," I told myself of Scranton.

25 years later, here I was, back in the town that seemed to love me as the school held a staff reunion 10 years after it closed.

"George, budget cuts did us in," said Halley, a teacher who first showed me the ropes.

She and 70 others of us were in the Hilton Garden ballroom, as the last owner hosted a gathering to commemorate all the successes we as faculty and staff gaged in, with me hearing a deep, annoying northern accent in the not too far background.

"Mr. Gordon, I see you've done quite well for yourself," Henry said. "I must say you're not quite the derelict you once were, my son."

I despised Henry not because he laid me off, but his demeanor as principal at the school during defind him being a thorn in my side.

"20 plus years later, and you're no one's underling as an assistant principal," he said of my current gig when we crossed paths again.

I wondered how he knew of my life as I wasn't too much of social media, and the friends I had from the school felt the same of him.

"Come have a drink with me," he asked.

We walked to the bar as he requested Woodland Reserve for both of us. I noticed a difference in the hulky Henry as the liquor did something to enhance his spirit, or he was a retired chump who knew to turn down whatever he was doing to his staff.

"Life's changed. I'm retired now," he said as he was giddy.

We talked about my career and where I was headed, for I, too lingered the thought of being retired in my mind.

"You still single," he asked.

"You still married," I responded, as it was meant as a clap back, vice more than an actual concern.

Henry, in his six foot four body laughed louder than I ever witnessed of him as he seemed genuinely entertained.

"With a fast mouth like that you'll be a principal in no time," he told me.

I became irritated of him and moved around the ballroom, searching for more familiar faces as everyone was smiling and carrying on. The most gleeful were seen as I made my way full circle throughout the room, then somehow ended up in Henry's presence again.

"Hello there, handsome," he said to me.

I couldn't shake Henry as he seemed to be glued to me.

"Don't think in my time of knowing you, you had on a tuxedo," he said to me.  "You clean up real nice."

"Thank you, " I said to him, as I felt a weird energy passing through us as we briefly made eye contact.

I stepped away and refilled my cup with booze, then found my way to an empty table as everyone was dancing, standing or gallivanting.  I was enjoying the night of reuniting, and pondering what once was and could've been had i stayed in Scranton.

"You love life down in Texas," Henry asked, as he sat beside me.

He broke me out of my trance of Memory Lane.

"Pennsylvania is the same as it always was," he said to me.

"I loved it up here, Henry," I told him, as I was offsetting what I thought was his negativity.

"I ain't saying it's bad.  Me and the wife love it here and ain't going nowhere," he said to me.  "You still single these days?"

"Why do you care," I asked.

"Son, don't you get snarky with me.  I always wondered if a handsome young man like you had a stable of broads somewhere.  No way you're a virgin," he added.

I laughed at the latter notion as I was far from that title, but I was also tickled as he didn't know I had no desire for a woman.

"Everyone else came here with someone.  The wife stayed home, as we've been doing a cornucopia of shindigs the last couple years, since I retired," he said.

The burly Henry, with his New York City accent, started to bond with me as we chatted about vacations, stocks, bonds, and other things where are interests seemed to intersect.

"Still didn't tell me you're single," he said.

"I'm single," I told him before he tried to figure out why.

"No good pussy?"

"No," I said.

"No good cock?"

"Why does it have to go there," I said as he struck a chord.

"So you enjoy cock? Do you enjoy your cock being played with," he asked as now I noticed he was clearly inebriated.

I nodded yes, as this was unbelievable for me to have this conversation in public.  I couldn't stand this man prior to the reunion, but it felt like we were best friends at this moment as he was invading my business.  He wondered how long I'd been seeing guys, and I mentioned I couldn't count, just that I wasn't reverting back to women.

"Sandra doesn't know it, but I dabble a bit," he said.  "I've always dabbled, but I've kept it quiet as a church mouse on cotton."

He went on about how he sucked his first cock when he was in college, and how the same guy took his ass for the first time months later, and he was hooked.

"Love my wife and all the parts attached to her," he said.  "But there's a joy in bringing pleasure to a man, the same."

He opened the floodgates for flirting as he offered himself to me.

"Never had a black guy before," he said.  "Would you be my first?"

"You might get addicted," I told him.

"You might get addicted to me, young man," he countered as he moved his chair closer.

If we were alone, he for sure would've kissed me, as he came on strong and wasn't backing down.  I didn't necessarily want him to, for Henry was legit my kind of guy:  older, chubby, manly.

"I know somewhere we can go, if you want," he asked.

I was a little tipsy from drinking, but deep in my loins I needed this man to please me, as I wasn't getting any real play in town.   It crossed my mind Henry might've had a thing for me when I was that young kid fresh from college.  I asked, and he was clear he didn't have a thing for me, just now as I matured all the way around.  We darted from the ballroom as he managed to book a room since he knew he'd have a little too much fun.   We made it to the elevator as the door barely closed, before he dropped to his knees to undo my trousers.

"Jeez this fucker's hard," he said as he stroked it briefly, and put his lips on it as we got enough ascension time for him fully engulf it.

Seeing Henry's lips on my cock was almost like sweet revenge, except there was no adversity involved, just his sour attitude years before that was avenged with his throat muscle pulling my tip.  The doors opened and he rushed to pop tall, and covered me, but there was no one entering, or even visible in the hallway as we had a short walk to his room.

"Get you in here so we can finish what I started," he said while keying the door, opening it next and turning back to me with a smile on his face.

"Never thought we'd be doing this, did you?"

I didn't, and once I closed the door he sat at the foot of his queen bed in a room with a panoramic view.

"Get over here," he said.

I walked over, letting my trousers hit the floor, then kicking my shoes off as I waddled over, then allowed him to pull my dick at it's base so he could begin to swallow.  Henry's moans highlighted his skills as he sucked me whole, going slow as he swirled his skull around my shaft.  I put my right hand in his gray hair as he gobbled like a slut, gliding back and forth with ease, leaving a trail of his saliva to roll and drip to the floor. Henry gave good, sloppy top that I hadn't experienced in years, good enough to make my knees buckle slightly as he had the right amount of pressure.

"Got damn baby, you've got a nice cock," he said.  "Gotta take a break, my jaw hurts."

I laughed as Henry didn't have the biggest mouth, yet gave the most sensual pleasure with what he had.  I stood up straight again until he took his big, bear paw and started stroking it, making eye contact with my tip in the process.

"I wanna see it cum," he said as he seemed amazed by my stiffness.  "Can't remember the last time I played with a cock so hard."

He hadn't come out of his tuxedo as he was rushing to get me off, and he would, but at his pace as he stroked me fast, then slowed down when he could tell I was close.

"I'll bet those balls taste good," he said before reaching lower to suck them.  "They're hard as a rock, too."

I explained that whenever I was on the cusp of shooting, my balls would tighten and become sensitive.

"Oh, so you really need to nut," he asked before putting his lips back on the tip.

He went faster in sucking this time, for he was trying to make a mess down his throat.  He used a hand and mouth sucking motion as he bobbed his head back and forth, but had his hand attached to the shaft, in front of his head to give extra pressure.

"Henry, oh God," I cried out.  "Henry, oh shit, man."

My body tensed up while he swallowed every drop, groaning as if it was some sweet cider.

"Finally," he said while washing his hands in the bathroom.

I gave Henry his props as the 70-something bear was handsome, and packing even at his age.  We hugged when he finished, and I called an Uber to head back where we started.

This wouldn't be the end.