Aroused (21 page)

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Authors: Sean Wolfe

BOOK: Aroused
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“Yes, I can see that. How many of those damned pills did you take, anyway?”
“None.”
“You're kidding me,” Kyle said, shocked, and looked at me in the eyes.
I smiled.
“You got that fucking hard-on all by yourself? No Viagra?”
“Nope. Just me.”
“What's gotten into you, baby?” he asked, and turned around to kiss me.
“You have,” I said. “Well, you haven't actually gotten into me in quite some time now, and I'm afraid those days have come and gone long ago.”
Kyle laughed and reached down to stroke my still throbbing cock.
“I was just lying here thinking about you and me and how great our life has been. We've both accomplished our dreams and have been very successful. We're richer than we have a right to be. We've both been healthy, for the most part, and have grown old together.”
“Speak for yourself,” Kyle said as he squeezed my dick and slid his hand up and down it's length.
I hadn't even beat myself off in so long, I'd forgotten how pleasurable it could be. As Kyle stroked and squeezed my cock, I rocked my hips back and forth, reveling in the friction and sensation of his hand bringing me closer to climax.
“God, we were hot back in our day, weren't we?” I said, and pushed my head farther into the pillow as electric currents ran through my body.
“Back in our day?” Kyle said. “I think we're still pretty damned hot, even in our advanced age. You are a beautiful man, Preston Daugherty. And just look at this hard cock I have in my hand. My god, I know thirty-year-olds who would kill for a cock like this.”
“You're sweet,” I said lovingly as I closed my eyes and let his hand take me away. “But you're just saying that because you love me.”
“You're right,” he said. “I do love you. But I'm not saying this to make you feel good or to convince you that I love you. I'm saying this because it's true. You are one hot fucking man, Preston.”
“Oh, stop it,” I said, and felt myself blush.
“I'm serious. Feel.” His hand left my cock and I felt him scoot from under the blankets and move around on the bed. A few seconds later he knelt next to my chest and his hard cock slid gently across my lips.
“Kyle!” I almost shrieked. “What in the world are you doing?”
“I'm showing you that I'm not just saying nice words to you. You fucking turn me on, baby.”
I started to say something, but then he lay beside me, with his head at the foot of the bed. A second later I felt his tongue lick the head of my cock. I moaned and tightened my body as his mouth enveloped my cock and he sucked gently up and down.
“Oh my god, baby,” I gasped for air.
I vaguely remembered how great a blowjob felt. But it had been so long since we'd been physically intimate that I'd forgotten just how life-altering it could be. Kyle and I had slipped into a comfortable life of lazy luxury. We wined and dined and entertained and traveled. But we fell out of the habit of making love a few years back. We never spoke about it, but just stopped without much hoopla. We hugged and we kissed and we held hands and we bought each other gifts. That's how we showed our love for one another. But I think somewhere down the road we decided we were just too old to fuck anymore, and so we stopped.
But we were wrong.
As Kyle sucked my dick, I pulled his cock closer to my face and sucked it into my mouth. It hadn't shrunk a bit over the years, and it filled my mouth. I could barely fit my lips around it, because
they
had shrunk and become less flexible. But I gave it the old college try and sucked on it as best I could.
Kyle didn't seem to mind, and moaned as he sucked my cock with more fervor as he tried to slip another inch of his dick into my mouth.
I was now bucking my hips fairly excitably, and Kyle could tell I was getting close.
“I want to make love to you,” he said as he slid his mouth off my slick cock.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I panted, and tried to push him back down to finish me off.
“No, I'm not.”
“Baby, I'm ninety-three years old. I cannot get fucked. It's a physical impossibility. I'd break into a million pieces if you tried to shove that pole up my ass.”
“Yeah, but I'm only seventy-three. A spring chicken, remember?” he said with that impish chuckle that ensured I'd do anything he asked. “You can fuck me. I won't break. I promise.”
“Kyle, I don't think ...”
“I want you to fuck me, Preston,” he said, and leaned down to kiss me, and then got on all fours in the middle of the bed. “Go slow. I may be a spring chicken, but I haven't laid an egg in a very long time.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, even as I got into position behind him.
“Think of the money we could get from selling the tape on Ebay.”
I laughed for a moment, then held his hips in both hands. I looked down at his ass, and was astounded that even after fifty years, it still made me tremble with desire. Throughout our relationship I had been the bottom for the great majority of the time. But every once in awhile I got the urge to fuck Kyle, and every time I did, it was amazing. Now, as I looked down at his ass in front of me and my cock throbbing impatiently just an inch or so from his crack, I thought I must have died at the party earlier and this was my heaven.
I spat on my cock, and then spat some more on Kyle's ass, and rubbed my dick against his cheeks. Every nerve in my body tingled as I humped his ass cheeks, and I knew that once I entered him, it would only be a matter of minutes before I came. This would not be a marathon.
“Are you just gonna stare at it all night,” Kyle asked sarcastically, and turned to smile at me, “or are you going to fuck it?”
I held his hips tightly, more to steady myself than to control him, and pushed my cock head just inside his asshole. I literally heard it pop when it slipped inside.
“Oh, fuck!” Kyle cried out, and squirmed beneath me.
“Should I stop?”
“Don't you fucking dare,” he spat out, and took a deep breath as he slid back against my cock. He didn't stop until his ass was pushed against my pelvic bone. “God, you feel so great,” he said. “You're filling me up with your big cock.”
“Where did you learn to talk like that?” I asked, trying to distract myself from the pleasure that coursed through my cock and my entire body.
“I read your books,” Kyle said. “I know you have a bad knee,” he said as he slid his ass up and down my cock, “so you just sit there and let me do all the work.”
“Like hell,” I said, and pulled my dick all the way out of his ass.
“Noooo,” he moaned. “Put it back in. Please.”
I smiled, and slid my cock back inside his ass. I left it buried deep inside him for a couple of minutes, and then began ramming in and out of him. Okay, so ramming might be a slight exaggeration, but I slid in and out of his ass and fucked him like I remember we used to do. A little slower maybe, and more carefully, but every bit as hot and sensual.
“I can't believe we're doing this,” Kyle said as we rediscovered our rhythm and began bumping and grinding against one another. “I wonder if we could be in the
Guinness Book of World Records
for the oldest fuck.”
“You talk too fucking much,” I said, and fucked him harder. “Shut up and take my cock.”
Just hearing those words come from my mouth turned me on a little more than they should have. But when Kyle looked back and winked at me, and told me he loved me that was all I could take.
“I'm gonna cum,
Cariño
,” I whispered as I pulled out of his ass. There was a time when I shot my loads all over the place ... over the heads of the guys I fucked, all over the walls, all over the beds. But that was decades ago, and right then I was content with the couple of spurts that dribbled out of my cock and landed on Kyle's belly directly beneath my cock head. The orgasm felt as intense as any I'd ever had, and I was a very happy man.
“That was so hot, baby,” Kyle said, and turned over to lie on his back. “Come here.”
I laid my head on his stomach and watched him beat his cock. It only took a couple of tugs before he came. His load wasn't as grand as it had been years earlier, but a couple of shots hit me in the face. I licked them from my lips and wiped the one that hit me in the nose.
“That was incredible,” Kyle said, and wrapped his arms around my shoulders.
“I can't believe we just did that,” I said.
“Well, we did. And now that we know we can do it still, we're gonna have to make sure we keep in practice.”
“I'm not sure I will be able to get hard like that again,” I said as I rolled over onto my side of the bed.
“Well, if not naturally, you've got a year's worth of Viagra stockpiled over there. I don't think we'll have to worry about that.”
I sighed deeply.
“What's wrong?” Kyle asked.
“I know I'm way too old to get fucked. You'd do some serious damage at this point.”
“So?”
“So that means I'm gonna have to become a top. After all these years, I have to become a top. I mean, really. I have a reputation to think about.”
We both laughed, and Kyle scooted over to my side of the bed and hugged me. It felt a little weird ... we'd gotten so used to sleeping on opposite sides of the bed. But in no time at all we were both asleep, wrapped in each other's arms. The last thought I had before drifting off to sleep was that of all of the boys I'd fucked, or all the boyfriends I'd loved, and of the fifty years I'd shared my life and my dreams and my adventures with Kyle ... none of them was more intimate or special as the feeling of him falling asleep in my arms.
FALL
A
ccording to
Dictionary.com
fall/autumn is:
1. The season of the year between
summer
and winter, lasting from the autumnal equinox to the winter solstice and from September to December in the Northern Hemisphere; fall.
 
2. A period of maturity verging on decline.
Already armed with the knowledge that I'm not a fan of the first definitions for the seasons given in the dictionary, I'll once again focus on definition number two. Let me say I'm not a fan of this definition, either. So I looked up the definition in a couple of other dictionaries ... and they all said the same thing, almost verbatim. Then, I said, “Fuck the dictionaries.” I'm thinking outside the box here anyway, remember?
I'm not thinking about natural progression of time across a calendar, but the natural progression of our maturation as human beings, and particularly as sexually and sensually and romantically and erotically positive gay men. As I wrote this book, the season of autumn was a natural progression of moving from the experimental and excitement and thrill-seeking days of summer into a calmer, more mature state of settling down. The men in these stories are in their thirties and forties.
All you gay versions of Jack Nicholson and George Clooney out there, please don't send me hate mail. I know not all gay men get involved to form a couple and that many live very happily as confirmed bachelors all of their lives. It doesn't make them any less significant because they are not partnered. BUT, very many of us gay men do meet the man of our dreams and settle down and become domesticated and grow into an old married couple, as my single and bitter gay friends like to refer to me and my partner. Gay men in committed and long-term relationships are often overlooked or under-represented or sometimes even invisible. And that's a shame.
So, in keeping with the theme of the book, fall, or autumn, for our purposes is finding ourselves wanting something more out of life than anonymous sex in bathhouses, or one-night stands, or friends with benefits. It's about finding that special someone to share our lives with and to invest enough of ourselves to go through their life's journey with them as well. It's growing from two separate people into a single entity. And just how do we do that without losing ourselves in the process?
When you're part of a couple your perceptions of love and sex and romance and eroticism all change pretty drastically. After having “sexperimented” and having had fun with a variety of hot guys in your youth, you now wake up and go to sleep with the same person every day and night. How do you do that and still find excitement and romance in the relationship?
In these stories, the characters do that in a few different ways. They mix things up a little, add some spice to the marriage, surprise their partners.
Being part of a couple isn't all bouquets of roses and boxes of chocolates. It's hard work. It's disagreeing and fighting and wondering if it is all worth it. It's thinking maybe you'd given up too much, and wishing you were still twenty-one and beautiful and single. . . but realizing you're not and dealing with it. And ultimately, it's coming to the understanding that as you mature and life keeps rolling by ... it's so much nicer to have someone you love along with you for the journey.

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