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This is a work of fiction. All characters are imaginary and at least 18
years of age. Hell, they're all at least 68!
Old Men in the Park
by yfnsp
When I retired a few years ago, my wife encouraged me to take "a good
long walk" every morning. I enjoyed the exercise and, among the various
4- or 5-mile routes I took, I found a few that included parts of the
county park near my neighborhood. The park was a particularly pleasant
place to walk, with well groomed paths, a playground, sports fields, and
a varied landscape. And there were always people around involved in
various activities or just walking, like me.
The path I enjoyed most wound through a rather heavily wooded area of the
park. Though it was a lot less busy there, I would occasionally pass
people on the path or see someone sitting on one of the benches in the
shade of the woods. These were invariably older guys like me, or even
older, and we would usually exchange a polite greeting when I encountered
them.
One warm day, I had extra time to kill; my wife had gone shopping in the
city with her sister. "We'll be having lunch downtown today, so you'll
have to get your own lunch," she had told me quasi-apologetically. I
didn't mind.
So, walking my favorite path through the park, I decided to stop and take
advantage of the cool shade. I sat down on one of the benches for a
while, probably three quarters of an hour or so, and watched the wildlife
and the occasional human creature. After a while, a pattern emerged. I
saw an old man leave the path and go into the woods on what looked like a
deer trail. Later, another old guy did the same. And then I saw someone
coming back onto the walkway at the same spot, another older dude. He
glanced my way - furtively, I thought - before hurrying off in the
opposite direction.
Curious now, I decided to investigate. I found the trail easy to follow
as it meandered through some pretty dense woods that eventually thinned
as I neared a clearing. I stopped and listened; I thought I'd heard a
voice. Was that moaning I heard? I stepped forward cautiously and that's
when I saw one of the guys I had seen entering the trail - a tall, lanky
fellow in a recognizably loud Hawaiian shirt. What was he doing?
I stepped to the side, behind a tree, to get a better angle. It felt
sneaky, but I didn't want to be noticed. I'd heard another moan and it
was coming from somewhere else. And now I could see what the man was
doing. He was masturbating!
He was standing with his Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned and his pants open,
staring across the clearing with his cock in his hand. I could see him
stroking its evidently prodigious length. What was he looking at?
I stepped farther to my right, around the tree, and spied what he was
watching. It was another man facing in my direction with his pants around
his ankles. He too was masturbating. He was evidently the source of the
moaning; he moaned again as I watched. He was bending forward a little
and I saw that there was another guy behind him. Very close behind him.
He was fucking him! I could tell by the way they moved together that they
were fucking. Right there in the open! And they were letting the other
man watch them fuck. And they were watching him watch them as they
shamelessly copulated like rutting beasts.
I felt a flush of excitement. My dick was hard, straining in the confines
of my jeans. I had never seen anything like this and was surprised by my
visceral, erotic reaction. Gays, I thought. And the short guy is letting
the big guy fuck his ass! Why did that turn me on? Gay sex had never
interested me in the least.
But I found it fascinating! There was a look of utter bliss on the face
of the guy getting fucked - did it really feel that good? - and the one
fucking him was beginning to thrust more forcefully. He grunted as he
accelerated, making his partner moan even more. "Yes! Fuck me!" he said,
as he thrust his ass back at his assailant.
My dick certainly liked what I was seeing even if another part of me was
saying, 'This too weird. No, don't look.' But looking is exactly what I
wanted to do! I felt a tremendous attraction to all three of these guys,
old guys like me, pleasuring themselves in the open air. What harm could
there be in watching a couple of old fags fuck? And if Mr. Hawaiian shirt
could take out his cock, why shouldn't I?
I unzipped and pulled out my dick. The fresh air felt liberating. I
gripped it and stroked a little, but my pants were kind of in the way, so
I unbuckled and pushed them down to my knees. There, that's better, I
thought. My dick felt big, hard, and very demanding in my hand. My balls
felt heavy, in need of release. Every part of me was getting excited,
like I was a teenager again.
The Hawaiian shirt guy stopped jerking. Holding his pants up with his
left hand, he crossed the clearing to the copulating couple and took hold
of the smaller man's cock, pushing its owner's hand away. They just kept
on fucking. The little guy moaned again. Hawaiian shirt guy dropped his
pants and then dropped to his knees and lowered his head to take the cock
into his mouth.
I watched, stroking my dick with growing abandon as the guy in the middle
started babbling, "Oh! Oh, yeah! Suck it, baby! Yes, yes, fuck me!" and
the like in various combinations, culminating in, "Oh, I'm going to cum!
Yes! Fuck the cum out of me, daddy! Eat my cum, cocksucker! Fuck me! I'm
cumming! Fuuuuck!"
I was on the verge of cumming myself. Maybe that's why I didn't hear the
guy coming up behind me from the trail, until a twig snapped sharply
under his boot only a few feet away.
"Heyyy, buddy," he said in a deep, soft voice, "Let me help you with
that..."
I turned my head and saw a burly man wearing denim overalls without a
shirt. In the second or two before he had his arms around me, I noted his
bulk and his beard. He was about my height, but bigger in every other
dimension.
I'm pretty average: 5'10", 165 lbs, fairly trim and in shape, though not
athletic. I have a fringe of white hair and a full white beard trimmed
short and neat.
This new guy must have weighed 220. He had a round, protruding gut and
thick, muscular, hairy arms that reached around me and pulled me back
against his chest as he gripped my 6-inch boner and squeezed it. I felt
his belly press into the small of my back. His bushy red-grey beard
tickled my neck. The scent of his musky man-sweat enveloped me like a
warm blanket. I felt his hot breath in my ear; it smelled of cigar smoke.
"Yeah, buddy," he whispered huskily, "let me feel your cock!"
My dick erupted almost the moment he touched it, prodigiously; copious
amounts of cum spurted from my pulsating organ onto his fingers, into his
hand. He cupped his palm to catch as much as he could. My whole body was
quaking. I almost swooned; my new buddy held me tight, keeping me from
collapsing. "Yeah! Yeah! That's it, baby! Cum for your daddy!" His deep
voice resonated loudly in my ear as my vision blurred and my head swam.
A deep breath cleared my head quickly. I was still excited. He let go of
my softening cock, but it didn't go all the way down, nor would it for
some time. He brought his cum-covered hand to his lips and tasted it; I
heard the slurp; I heard the "Mmmm," humming in my ear. "Here, have
some," he said, putting his hand to my mouth. The smell of my cum,
although not completely foreign to me, had a novel aphrodisiacal effect
on me. Far from being repulsed as I would have expected, I licked his
hand greedily, gratefully, savoring the nutty flavor, my first taste of
cum, as I cleansed his palm and fingers with my lapping tongue.
"Oh, you like that," he said matter-of-factly. "You want some more,
hungry boy?" he asked. He turned me around to face him. It seemed
effortless on his part; I felt the strength in his burly arms. He pressed
me gently to my knees. The huge bulge down his left pantleg caught my eye
while he unbuttoned the straps of his bib and let his overalls fall to
the toes of his big black boots. He was naked underneath.
Impressions come quick. I was instantly aware of the hairiness of this
husky man. It was not just his chest, which was dense with grey hair, but
even his belly had a dusting of reddish-brown fuzz that grew thicker and
darker lower down, forming a rich jungle in his crotch where his big
balls nested and out of which, like a mighty oak, stood an enormously
thick trunk of a cock. It must have been seven or eight inches long with
a most impressive girth. It was uncut; its foreskin was stretched by its
full erect state, showing a beautiful, pink head peaking out, displaying
its little round piss-hole, which I suddenly desired to explore with the
tip of my tongue.
"I got some for you right here, little buddy," he said, taking the back
of my head gently in his big hands and pulling me into him. "Help
yourself."
I did. I leaned in and for the first time in my life I tasted cock. I
licked the little hole with a tentative jab and then swabbed the head
with a broad stroke of my tongue. The flavor of his cock-flesh combined
with the heavy musk of his groin's ball-sweat made my head swim with
lust. Who knew? I had no idea cocksucking could be so seductive! I wanted
this huge slab of man-meat in my mouth. I opened wide and slipped my lips
around the wide shaft, caressing the head with my receding tongue as I
made room, welcoming him in, filling my mouth with it, though it was only
a fraction of his big cock.
I felt a palpable joy: the knowledge that I could give this man pleasure.
I wanted to make him cum. Not, as he implied, because I liked the taste,
but because I wanted to please him, to pleasure him, to be the source of
immense satisfaction. This is what a cocksucker feels, I realized. I
wanted to be doing this, to be his cocksucker.
I sucked hard and I twirled my tongue all around that mouthful of hard
cock as I tried to take him deeper, choking a little while swallowing the
excess of saliva that flooded my mouth. I felt his precum oozing from the
opening and I tasted it: clean and smooth and delicious. I swallowed that
too.
He must have wanted to go deeper too, because he was helping me. He held
my head still as he pressed gently, firmly into me. I thought of the
sword-swallowers I had seen on the TV variety shows of my youth in the
60s. I relaxed my throat, a supreme act of will, willing him to take me,
to fill my throat with his massive girth. My throat spasmed as he pressed
through. My eyes watered, my nose ran, but I succeeded! He was all the
way in! My nose was pressed hard into his fragrant fur. His balls bumped
against my bearded chin. Breathing through my nose, I was filled with the
scent of him; his musk was almost as arousing as the stretching in my
throat and the firmness of the shaft against my stroking tongue as I
sucked him.
My own dick was as hard as his now. We were one, united in this ritual,
Man and Cunt. Yes, that's what I felt like, a cunt. It was exhilarating.
But it got better! He withdrew his shaft; the head popped back out of my
throat into my mouth, precum flowing where I could taste it again. Then
he pushed back in all the way. The friction at my constriction point no
longer made me want to gag. It was an erotic tremor that went straight to
my dick. And soon he was fucking me, thrusting in and out, long-cocking
my face like the pussy it had become.
My dick throbbed with every stroke of his manly thrusting in and out of
my throat. And when he came, my dick jumped - I almost came too. His
thrusting slowed down, and then, with one last lunge, he held my face to
his crotch and pumped his sperm deep into me, breeding my gullet. I felt
each pulse from my lips to my tonsils, shooting down the thick shaft,
injecting his seed into me and making me his. it was an amazing feeling.
And I just kept sucking...
When the pulsing stopped, my feeder pulled his cock out of the depths of
my gullet and its head popped through into my mouth again where my
continued sucking milked out the remains of his cum. I could taste it
now; It was subtly different from mine: a little stronger and saltier. I
swallowed it gratefully. I looked up into the man's eyes. He looked
pleased and satisfied. He reminded me of my grandfather, I suddenly
realized, although I guessed him to be a year or two younger then me. He
had made me feel like a child, a child in his care, dependent on him. I
hoped I looked as grateful as I felt. He had opened a whole new world to
me.
Part 2 is here: Old Men in the Park - part 2
years of age. Hell, they're all at least 68!
Old Men in the Park
by yfnsp
When I retired a few years ago, my wife encouraged me to take "a good
long walk" every morning. I enjoyed the exercise and, among the various
4- or 5-mile routes I took, I found a few that included parts of the
county park near my neighborhood. The park was a particularly pleasant
place to walk, with well groomed paths, a playground, sports fields, and
a varied landscape. And there were always people around involved in
various activities or just walking, like me.
The path I enjoyed most wound through a rather heavily wooded area of the
park. Though it was a lot less busy there, I would occasionally pass
people on the path or see someone sitting on one of the benches in the
shade of the woods. These were invariably older guys like me, or even
older, and we would usually exchange a polite greeting when I encountered
them.
One warm day, I had extra time to kill; my wife had gone shopping in the
city with her sister. "We'll be having lunch downtown today, so you'll
have to get your own lunch," she had told me quasi-apologetically. I
didn't mind.
So, walking my favorite path through the park, I decided to stop and take
advantage of the cool shade. I sat down on one of the benches for a
while, probably three quarters of an hour or so, and watched the wildlife
and the occasional human creature. After a while, a pattern emerged. I
saw an old man leave the path and go into the woods on what looked like a
deer trail. Later, another old guy did the same. And then I saw someone
coming back onto the walkway at the same spot, another older dude. He
glanced my way - furtively, I thought - before hurrying off in the
opposite direction.
Curious now, I decided to investigate. I found the trail easy to follow
as it meandered through some pretty dense woods that eventually thinned
as I neared a clearing. I stopped and listened; I thought I'd heard a
voice. Was that moaning I heard? I stepped forward cautiously and that's
when I saw one of the guys I had seen entering the trail - a tall, lanky
fellow in a recognizably loud Hawaiian shirt. What was he doing?
I stepped to the side, behind a tree, to get a better angle. It felt
sneaky, but I didn't want to be noticed. I'd heard another moan and it
was coming from somewhere else. And now I could see what the man was
doing. He was masturbating!
He was standing with his Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned and his pants open,
staring across the clearing with his cock in his hand. I could see him
stroking its evidently prodigious length. What was he looking at?
I stepped farther to my right, around the tree, and spied what he was
watching. It was another man facing in my direction with his pants around
his ankles. He too was masturbating. He was evidently the source of the
moaning; he moaned again as I watched. He was bending forward a little
and I saw that there was another guy behind him. Very close behind him.
He was fucking him! I could tell by the way they moved together that they
were fucking. Right there in the open! And they were letting the other
man watch them fuck. And they were watching him watch them as they
shamelessly copulated like rutting beasts.
I felt a flush of excitement. My dick was hard, straining in the confines
of my jeans. I had never seen anything like this and was surprised by my
visceral, erotic reaction. Gays, I thought. And the short guy is letting
the big guy fuck his ass! Why did that turn me on? Gay sex had never
interested me in the least.
But I found it fascinating! There was a look of utter bliss on the face
of the guy getting fucked - did it really feel that good? - and the one
fucking him was beginning to thrust more forcefully. He grunted as he
accelerated, making his partner moan even more. "Yes! Fuck me!" he said,
as he thrust his ass back at his assailant.
My dick certainly liked what I was seeing even if another part of me was
saying, 'This too weird. No, don't look.' But looking is exactly what I
wanted to do! I felt a tremendous attraction to all three of these guys,
old guys like me, pleasuring themselves in the open air. What harm could
there be in watching a couple of old fags fuck? And if Mr. Hawaiian shirt
could take out his cock, why shouldn't I?
I unzipped and pulled out my dick. The fresh air felt liberating. I
gripped it and stroked a little, but my pants were kind of in the way, so
I unbuckled and pushed them down to my knees. There, that's better, I
thought. My dick felt big, hard, and very demanding in my hand. My balls
felt heavy, in need of release. Every part of me was getting excited,
like I was a teenager again.
The Hawaiian shirt guy stopped jerking. Holding his pants up with his
left hand, he crossed the clearing to the copulating couple and took hold
of the smaller man's cock, pushing its owner's hand away. They just kept
on fucking. The little guy moaned again. Hawaiian shirt guy dropped his
pants and then dropped to his knees and lowered his head to take the cock
into his mouth.
I watched, stroking my dick with growing abandon as the guy in the middle
started babbling, "Oh! Oh, yeah! Suck it, baby! Yes, yes, fuck me!" and
the like in various combinations, culminating in, "Oh, I'm going to cum!
Yes! Fuck the cum out of me, daddy! Eat my cum, cocksucker! Fuck me! I'm
cumming! Fuuuuck!"
I was on the verge of cumming myself. Maybe that's why I didn't hear the
guy coming up behind me from the trail, until a twig snapped sharply
under his boot only a few feet away.
"Heyyy, buddy," he said in a deep, soft voice, "Let me help you with
that..."
I turned my head and saw a burly man wearing denim overalls without a
shirt. In the second or two before he had his arms around me, I noted his
bulk and his beard. He was about my height, but bigger in every other
dimension.
I'm pretty average: 5'10", 165 lbs, fairly trim and in shape, though not
athletic. I have a fringe of white hair and a full white beard trimmed
short and neat.
This new guy must have weighed 220. He had a round, protruding gut and
thick, muscular, hairy arms that reached around me and pulled me back
against his chest as he gripped my 6-inch boner and squeezed it. I felt
his belly press into the small of my back. His bushy red-grey beard
tickled my neck. The scent of his musky man-sweat enveloped me like a
warm blanket. I felt his hot breath in my ear; it smelled of cigar smoke.
"Yeah, buddy," he whispered huskily, "let me feel your cock!"
My dick erupted almost the moment he touched it, prodigiously; copious
amounts of cum spurted from my pulsating organ onto his fingers, into his
hand. He cupped his palm to catch as much as he could. My whole body was
quaking. I almost swooned; my new buddy held me tight, keeping me from
collapsing. "Yeah! Yeah! That's it, baby! Cum for your daddy!" His deep
voice resonated loudly in my ear as my vision blurred and my head swam.
A deep breath cleared my head quickly. I was still excited. He let go of
my softening cock, but it didn't go all the way down, nor would it for
some time. He brought his cum-covered hand to his lips and tasted it; I
heard the slurp; I heard the "Mmmm," humming in my ear. "Here, have
some," he said, putting his hand to my mouth. The smell of my cum,
although not completely foreign to me, had a novel aphrodisiacal effect
on me. Far from being repulsed as I would have expected, I licked his
hand greedily, gratefully, savoring the nutty flavor, my first taste of
cum, as I cleansed his palm and fingers with my lapping tongue.
"Oh, you like that," he said matter-of-factly. "You want some more,
hungry boy?" he asked. He turned me around to face him. It seemed
effortless on his part; I felt the strength in his burly arms. He pressed
me gently to my knees. The huge bulge down his left pantleg caught my eye
while he unbuttoned the straps of his bib and let his overalls fall to
the toes of his big black boots. He was naked underneath.
Impressions come quick. I was instantly aware of the hairiness of this
husky man. It was not just his chest, which was dense with grey hair, but
even his belly had a dusting of reddish-brown fuzz that grew thicker and
darker lower down, forming a rich jungle in his crotch where his big
balls nested and out of which, like a mighty oak, stood an enormously
thick trunk of a cock. It must have been seven or eight inches long with
a most impressive girth. It was uncut; its foreskin was stretched by its
full erect state, showing a beautiful, pink head peaking out, displaying
its little round piss-hole, which I suddenly desired to explore with the
tip of my tongue.
"I got some for you right here, little buddy," he said, taking the back
of my head gently in his big hands and pulling me into him. "Help
yourself."
I did. I leaned in and for the first time in my life I tasted cock. I
licked the little hole with a tentative jab and then swabbed the head
with a broad stroke of my tongue. The flavor of his cock-flesh combined
with the heavy musk of his groin's ball-sweat made my head swim with
lust. Who knew? I had no idea cocksucking could be so seductive! I wanted
this huge slab of man-meat in my mouth. I opened wide and slipped my lips
around the wide shaft, caressing the head with my receding tongue as I
made room, welcoming him in, filling my mouth with it, though it was only
a fraction of his big cock.
I felt a palpable joy: the knowledge that I could give this man pleasure.
I wanted to make him cum. Not, as he implied, because I liked the taste,
but because I wanted to please him, to pleasure him, to be the source of
immense satisfaction. This is what a cocksucker feels, I realized. I
wanted to be doing this, to be his cocksucker.
I sucked hard and I twirled my tongue all around that mouthful of hard
cock as I tried to take him deeper, choking a little while swallowing the
excess of saliva that flooded my mouth. I felt his precum oozing from the
opening and I tasted it: clean and smooth and delicious. I swallowed that
too.
He must have wanted to go deeper too, because he was helping me. He held
my head still as he pressed gently, firmly into me. I thought of the
sword-swallowers I had seen on the TV variety shows of my youth in the
60s. I relaxed my throat, a supreme act of will, willing him to take me,
to fill my throat with his massive girth. My throat spasmed as he pressed
through. My eyes watered, my nose ran, but I succeeded! He was all the
way in! My nose was pressed hard into his fragrant fur. His balls bumped
against my bearded chin. Breathing through my nose, I was filled with the
scent of him; his musk was almost as arousing as the stretching in my
throat and the firmness of the shaft against my stroking tongue as I
sucked him.
My own dick was as hard as his now. We were one, united in this ritual,
Man and Cunt. Yes, that's what I felt like, a cunt. It was exhilarating.
But it got better! He withdrew his shaft; the head popped back out of my
throat into my mouth, precum flowing where I could taste it again. Then
he pushed back in all the way. The friction at my constriction point no
longer made me want to gag. It was an erotic tremor that went straight to
my dick. And soon he was fucking me, thrusting in and out, long-cocking
my face like the pussy it had become.
My dick throbbed with every stroke of his manly thrusting in and out of
my throat. And when he came, my dick jumped - I almost came too. His
thrusting slowed down, and then, with one last lunge, he held my face to
his crotch and pumped his sperm deep into me, breeding my gullet. I felt
each pulse from my lips to my tonsils, shooting down the thick shaft,
injecting his seed into me and making me his. it was an amazing feeling.
And I just kept sucking...
When the pulsing stopped, my feeder pulled his cock out of the depths of
my gullet and its head popped through into my mouth again where my
continued sucking milked out the remains of his cum. I could taste it
now; It was subtly different from mine: a little stronger and saltier. I
swallowed it gratefully. I looked up into the man's eyes. He looked
pleased and satisfied. He reminded me of my grandfather, I suddenly
realized, although I guessed him to be a year or two younger then me. He
had made me feel like a child, a child in his care, dependent on him. I
hoped I looked as grateful as I felt. He had opened a whole new world to
me.
Part 2 is here: Old Men in the Park - part 2
Last edited:
