Father Bocce's confessional: Getting Towed

[Author: HR]

I’m a real estate agent and I carry a cell phone with me most of the time. Luckily for me I had it with me a couple of weeks ago. I got a flat tire on Interstate 95, one of the worst fucking roads in south Florida! They’re all crazy. They zip in and out of the traffic. I don’t even want to think about it! Anyway, I was just lucky it wasn’t rush hour traffic because I lost control of my car for an instant but the traffic was light and I made it to the emergency lane without hitting another car.

I immediate called AAA and waited for the tow truck, hoping some of those fool drivers wouldn’t hit me even though I was pulled into the emergency lane. Hey, you aren’t safe on I95 even in the emergency lane, take my word for that. I could tell you about the trooper that doesn’t have any legs because someone hit him in the emergency lane while he was getting something out of the trunk of his car, but that is another story.

When the tow truck arrived, I expected some hotshot youngster behind the wheel. I was surprised to see a burly old man at least sixty-five climbing out of the cab. He was grey haired with a good sized bald patch but looked as strong as an ox. His shirt was grease stained. He had the sleeves rolled up and his arms were as thick as a weight lifters. As he got nearer, I noticed a tuft of white hair sticking out of the front of his shirt and I couldn't take my eyes off it.

“Got a problem, Buddy?” he asked as he walked up to my window. He leaned in until his face was only inches from mine. He had nice soft brown eyes that sparkled like a kid’s. His face was weathered and heavily lined.

“Yeah, I guess you would say that I have a problem,” I said.

He laughed. “Got a flat, well, how about that? Know what movie that line came from?”

I could smell cigar on his breath.

“Are you here to help me? Or is this a trivia game?” I smiled in spite of of my frustration.

“Rocky Horror Show,” the old man said and winked. “Actually both of your rear tires are flat. Going to have to tow you into the shop.”

“Both of them?” I asked.

“Yeah, and you’re lucky. One really blown out and the other just deflated slowly.” He pointed to the truck. “You want to get in the tow truck while I hook up to your car?” he asked as he pulled his head back. “And be careful and don’t step into on-coming traffic.”

I was careful getting out of the car. When I was side-by-side with the tow truck driver I realized that he was rather short. I paused and watched the old man as he bent over and looked under the front of the car. His dirty jeans were tight around the crotch and I got a look at his package - it was a big one.

At least I’ll get to ride with a nice sexy old man instead of some young punk, I thought as I opened the passenger door of the truck and climbed in. Damn, I’m not going to make cocktail hour at Tropics tonight. I settled in the seat and waited for the old men.

I thought it would take the old man a long time to get the car into the towing position but he did it in a few minutes.

“All set!” he said, climbing into the truck. “If you’ve got a date you better call her and tell her you’ll going to be late,” the old man said, and winked at me.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” I told him.

He smelled of grease, sweat, and cigars. The combination reminded me of my father who had worked as a mechanic most of his life and had loved to smoke cigars.

“Then call your boyfriend,” the old man said, and laughed as he started the truck.

“He’s away for the week,” I said, aiming to shock the old man.

“Oh, so you’re gay,” the old man responded, without even batting an eye.

“Yes. Are you?” I asked, egging the old man on.

The old man turned to me as he pulled on to road.

“Do I look gay?”

“Do I?” I shot back.

“Honestly. No, you don’t,” he answered. “You look a little like my son.”

“You married?” I asked.

“Divorced!” he answered. “Hey, I heard there are some bars that you guys go to where they have sex inside, is that true?”

“Yes.”

“What kind of sex?” he asked, glancing briefly at me.

“Oh, a little sucking and a little fucking, maybe some rimming,” I said, now determined to shock him.

“What is rimming?” the old man asked. “Fucking and sucking I know. I mean, I haven’t done it but I know what it is. But rimming I don’t know.”

“It is when someone licks or sticks his tongue into another’s asshole,” I answered.

“You’re joking!” The old man said. “You mean you gays do that to one another?!”

“Oh, that and much more. Some people like to get pissed on. Others like to have their balls, cock, or tits tortured,” I told him and then added “You should try it sometime.”

“Yeah! And you do this inside one of your gay bars?” he asked, and, as he spoke I could tell a change in his voice. It seemed slightly charged with sexual tension.

“Sometimes, but of course the best place is at home.” I glanced over at his crotch. The bulge was bigger. Damn, the old man is getting off on what I am telling him, I thought.

“Well, I guess licking another man asshole would be like licking a woman’s pussy. Damn I used to love to eat my old lady's pussy. Loved that better than fucking her,” the old man confessed. “You ever do this rimming to someone else?” the old man asked glancing over at me. His face was serious, anxious for my reply.

“Yeah, sometimes,” I confessed. I felt my own big cock straining the crotch of my pants as it quickly swelled up.

“You ever ate pussy?” the old man asked.

“Once,” I answered.

“It is like rimming?” he asked eagerly.

“I like rimming better. It is so masculine licking a man asshole with his balls and cock only inches from your face.”

As I spoke I saw the old man reach between his legs and started massaging the big bulge in the crotch of his dirty jeans.

“So you like it better than eating pussy?”

The old man was still rubbing his crotch.

“Much better,” I said, as I too reached down to my crotch, but instead of massaging it, I unzipped my pants.

Seeing my hand movements the old man glanced over at me but didn’t speak as I reached inside my pants and struggled to get my big hard fat cock out. Even when I pulled my big cock out of my pants, the old man didn’t comment. He just stole quick glances at my cock as he drove.

The old man finally broke his silence.

“How old are you?”

“57 and you?”

“67. Too old for these women. Or maybe I just don’t have enough money. You know that all want to be taken out to dinner and such shit. Hell, I just want to eat them out. I don’t want to marry them.”

“You just want a quickie,” I told him.

“It that what you gay guys call it? A quickie?”

“Yeah,” I answered as I waved my huge cock back and forth. The old man watched out of the corner of his eye.

“Looks like you could use a quickie right now.”

“Yes, I could and how about you?” I asked, looking him in the eyes.

“Damn, I am horny. Never thought seeing another man cock would get me so horny. And hell, I’m not queer. Never touched another man’s cock in my life,” the old man stated almost angrily.

“There’s a first time for everything!” I said. I reached my hand over and touched the bulge in the crotch of his jeans.

“Wow! That feels good,” he said, as I rubbed his crotch. He cleared his throat. “You know I live not far from the shop. Have a little three-bedroom house.” He paused. “You want that we stop by for a ... a quickie?”

“Yeah! I would like that!” I said.

“Hell, I don’t know. I just might back out at the last moment,” he confessed, shaking his head.

But when I unzipped his jeans and reached inside and touched his fat, short, cut cock, he sighed, “Yeah, let’s do it!”

I played with both my cock and his, right up until he pulled into the driveway of his modest little house in one of those '55 and over' housing projects.

“Come on in!”

He glanced around at the neighbor’s houses nervously. “Hell, they won't think anything about me taking you inside,” he said, more to himself than to me.

Unlike him and the inside of his truck, his home was immaculate. And I was surprised at how nicely decorated he had it. I wanted to kiss him but I had been with more than one “straight” guy and knew that kissing was out of the question.

“The bedroom is this way,” the old man said, leading me to the right. The moment he stepped in the bedroom he started undressing. I followed his example.

He eyed me and I eyed him as we stripped. My cock started throbbing at the sight of his massive hairy chest. But his cock caught my undivided attention. His circumcised dick was even thicker than my fat cock, but short. Talk about a pussy stretcher - the old man certainly had one.

Then came the awkward moment for the old man. He didn’t know what to do next. He just stood there playing with his short fat pecker and staring at my long fat cock. Finally I stepped forward and dropped to my knees in front of him. Before he had a chance to protest I had his thick dick in my mouth.

“Damn! That feels good!” he called out when I started sucking his cock. I had difficulty deep throating his cock. It was almost too thick for my mouth.

“Let’s get in bed.” The old man reached down and lifted me to my feet.

I let him get on the bed first. Then, instead of lying beside him, I straddled him with my head toward his feet. He just lay there as I leaned over and resumed sucking his cock. He didn’t make any effort to touch my cock even though my crotch was directly over his face. I sucked his cock until I felt him go tense. Then I rose up in a sitting position until my asshole was directly over his face.

The old man didn’t say a word. I lowered my ass until his mouth was against my asshole. For a moment I didn’t think he was going to rim me, but, just as I was going to lift my ass, I felt his tongue tentatively touch the bud of my asshole.

At first his tongue probed my asshole in quick hesitant movements, but the more he tongued my asshole, the bolder his tongue grew. Suddenly he was rimming my asshole better than I could remember. He ate my ass.

He rammed his tongue inside and licked and twisted it until he had me bouncing up and down on his face. God, he must have sent his wife crazy eating her pussy! His talented tongue knew tricks that I had never felt before. I could feel myself getting lost.

Keeping my asshole against his mouth, I leaned forward and took his thick dick in my mouth and started sucking. I wanted to make him shoot off at the same time as I did. This time my sexual excitement was such that I could take his thick pecker all the way down my throat.

As I sucked him I was fighting to keep from cuming! His tongue had me in such a state of ecstasy that I was humping his mouth and moaning even with my mouth stuffed full of his cock. Then as I felt him tense up, I let myself go.

I shot off on his hairy chest even as he began to squirt cum into my mouth. He grabbed my ass and pulled it hard against his mouth and sent his tongue impossibly deep into my ass one final time before pushing me away from him.

We lay exhausted for several moments. He spoke first. “That was better than eating pussy.” He sat up. “Sorry I couldn’t suck you cock, but I just can’t do that.”

“That is quite all right. I’ve never had a rim job that good before. I’ll take that any day over a blowjob,” I told him.

“Well, I guess I better get you to the shop so that you can hit the road,” the old man said as he got up and started dressing.

He didn’t speak again until we were back in the tow truck.

“Give me your telephone number. I’d like to get with you again."

“Here,” I said, hiding my surprise while handing him real estate card. “Call my cell phone number. I would really like to get together with you again too.”

Since then I have been with him three times. He will not touch my cock. He just wants to rim my asshole.