Old Guy First Time

What am I doing here? I'm married - married to a woman. I have kids. Dammit, I have grandkids. I'm not gay; I'm not bi.

But I am curious.

It was simple on the website. Anonymous cockshots, anonymous contacts. Easy; exciting. But now I'm here. Now it's for real. My finger hovers over the door buzzer. Don't be stupid. Turn and leave. Just go.

The door opens. He's not what I expected. No simpering poof; no tattooed skinhead. He's the guy at the next workstation. He's the guy next to you at the bar. He has an open face and a warm smile. He's in his early sixties, same as me. Slim and well proportioned.

'I saw you arrive,' he says. 'You must be Jacko.'

My name isn't Jacko, it's Stephen but I answer, 'Yes, I'm Jacko.'

'And I'm Peter,' he says. His handshake is firm. 'Where are my manners?' he asks of no one in particular. 'Come in.'

I step though the door. My mouth is dry. My heart is pounding like a jack hammer. What the fuck am I doing here?

We're in the lounge. It's bright and airy. The decor is tasteful, the furniture is not expensive but looks comfortable. I sit.

'Tea? Coffee?' Peter asks.

'No,' I answer. 'Sorry, no thank you,'

Peter joins me on the sofa. His hand is on my knee. It doesn't feel sexual, just reassuring. His voice becomes quiet. 'You really are new at this, aren't you?'

I lower my eyes and nod.

He puts his head close to mine. 'Don't be nervous,' he says.' You can leave any time. You can leave now. I hope you don't but if you do, it'll be fine.'

I manage a smile. Now what? I've never played this game. I don't know the rules.

'Let me tell you something,' Peter says. 'My first time I was as skittish as a newborn colt. My date suggested I take a shower. It worked a charm. Best night of my life.' He nods towards the door. 'Just up the stairs. First door on the left. Bathroom's en suit.'

My heart's pounding faster than ever. Stay? Go? But what's to lose? Like he says, I can leave whenever I want. I ease myself up from the chair. I climb the stairs. The bedroom is where he says it is. I look at the bed. I picture myself naked, naked with another man. Naked on that bed.

I take off my clothes and fold them neatly on a chair. I look down at my penis. No, not a penis -- a cock, my cock. There is a spreading warmth down there. Despite my nerves, my cock has thickened.

I step into the shower. The jets are hard and hot. I feel tension drain away with the water. The shower cubicle door opens. It's Peter. He's naked. A strange buzz surges through me. I cast my eyes down at his cock. It's plump and fleshy. My own cock is starting to stiffen. Peter smiles. He steps closer. I thrill as his cock brushes mine. I want to reach down and touch it, hold it, squeeze it. Instead I turn around, embarrassed by my growing erection.

Peter's hands are on my shoulders, kneading the tension from them. He runs his hands down my back. He grasps my hips and pulls me gently towards him. He takes hold of my butt cheeks and spreads them. Then his cock is there, pressing into the fold between my buttocks. A cock. A cock nestled in my butt crack. Excitement and pleasure flash through me. I can't help myself, I push my ass against his cock. Peter gasps. He shuts his eyes and tips back his head. His grip on my hips tightens. Now he's grinding his cock against me. I have never known anything like it. I want more; more cock. I reach behind me and take his cock in my hand. It's like a hardwood peg coated in yielding flesh. I move it to my anus and feel the cockhead, soft and probing. Peter's voice is harsh and breathy 'Easy,' he says. 'Easy now. Plenty of time for that.' He reaches past me and shuts off the water.

I towel myself down and move to the bed. I sit on the edge and watch Peter walk towards me. His cock fascinates me. It sways as he comes closer. He reaches down and parts my knees. He steps closer. His cock is right there, in front of my face. A drop of precum glistens on the tip. His cock brushes my cheek. I take it between my finger tips and thumb.

Should I? Shouldn't I?

I tongue the cockhead, smearing away the precum. Peter screws shut his eyes and arches his back. I open my mouth wide and slide my tongue along the cock shaft. The skin is like warm silk. I close my lips around the shaft. My heart is pounding. I have a cock in my mouth. A hard, warm, vibrant cock filling my mouth. The head is fleshy, the skin is smooth. I move my mouth back and forth along the shaft. I stroke the cockhead with my tongue. I suck hard. I tighten my lips around the shaft. I suck harder. I'm loving it. I move my mouth faster and faster along the shaft. Peter is thrusting his cock in and out of my mouth. He is gasping and moaning.

'Stop,' he gasps. 'Oh stop. I don't want to cum yet. Stop.'

I release his cock from my mouth. Peter takes hold of my shoulders and presses me down onto the bed. His cock glistens with precum.

What next?

Peter kneels before me. I raise my knees and he spreads my legs. He shuffles forward and lowers his body onto mine. I thrill as the two cocks touch. I reach between us and grip them tight together. I knead them, I stroke them, I rub them together. The cocks are lathered in precum. They slip and slither against each other. The heads are soft and yielding; the shafts hard and insistent. I want more; I want more cock. I hear a guttural voice and realise it's mine. 'Come on, come on, come on.'

Peter's face is twisted in something akin to agony. He's thrusting, thrusting, thrusting and I am thrusting back. He's fucking my cock and I'm fucking his. Don't cum. Sweet mercies don't let it stop. I squeeze the two cocks tighter together. I can't control it. I thrust faster. I squeeze tighter. Peter makes a small sound and something wet spatters against my cock. He cries out as if in pain. Then cum gushes from his cockhead, hot and wet and slippery. He cries out again. He thrusts harder, faster. He cums and cums and cums. Hot cum covers my cock and drips onto my belly. I thrust again but Peter's cock becomes flaccid. He pulls away and rolls onto his back, gasping. He turns to me and raises himself up onto one elbow. His smile is gentle; his voice soft. 'Sorry,' he says. 'I jumped the gun.'

'It's Okay,' I say. But it's not Okay. My cock's hard, like a wedge.

'Do you remember?' he said. 'In the shower, I said that later, there would be time for something.'

'What do you mean?'

'Time for some backup,' he chuckled. 'You haven't met my housemate.'

I glance around the room but we are alone.

Peter strokes my face. 'Don't worry,' he says. 'Soon, you won't be curious. You won't be curious about a single thing.'