The Brass Rail

[Author: HR]

I like to drink. And since my wife died of cancer I go out to the bars in Fort Dodge often. I'm a 70 year old farmer from Humboldt, Iowa but I still think I'm much younger until I look in the mirror. It ain't a pretty picture! What little hair I have is snow white. And looking in the mirror I can't tell where the crow's feet stop and the old age wrinkles start. Seems that my ears and nose have gotten bigger with each advancing year. But when I look at my body, it's still slim, well almost slim. Never had any body hair except for a little around my crotch, very little. My dick hasn't grown bigger like my ears and nose, but thank God it didn't shrink either. My dick might be average but I got a set of balls that would do a prize bull well.

I must admit that I go out to the bars mostly because I am horny. There's a lot of drunken sluts in some of the Fort Dodge bars, like the Brass Rail on Main Street, that will go with an old farmer like me. But I haven't gone with any even though they have offered. 

I didn't know why until Friday was a week ago.

I was sitting at the bar at the Brass Rail drinking a Miller Light. I was well on my way to getting drunk as it was almost closing time and I had been there all evening. I was one of half a dozen drinking at the bar when this little old guy came in and took a seat next to me even though there were lots of empty bar stools. I had seen him in the Brass Rail a couple of times before but had never spoken to him.

Kate, the old red head that own the bar called the little old man Joe, and brought him a mixed drink without asking what he wanted. And as he sipped on his drink, I studied him in the mirror behind the bar. He looked about my age even though his hair was darker and fuller than mine. Like I said, he was small but one of those wiry types that always surprise you with their strength. He was a nice looking old man, especially when I saw his big doe-like brown eyes.

As he took another sip of his drink and set it back on the bar, I caught a glimpse of a Marine tattoo on his arm. I turned and asked him had he been in the Marines. He told me he had retired from the Marines after thirty years. Said even though he had been out for close to twenty years, he still missed them.

"Used to go out drinking with the guys on Friday nights and still do, even though my wife bitches like crazy," he said.

I told him that my wife had died several months ago. 

"Yeah, it's hard. Can't live with them and you can't live without them." 

He paused, and stared straight at our reflections in the mirror.

"But what do you do for sex now. Don't tell me you just jack off."

My face must've turned red because he said, "Hey, I lop my mule sometimes too." 

He bumped his leg against mine, companionably, and I looked up. He smiled. I did too. I knew it. We're both men, we're in this together.

"Closing time!" Kate bellowed, and flicked on the main lights. Her red hair glinted unnaturally in the harsh lights. The warm atmosphere vanished. For some reason her skin reminded me I had some dry wall that needed finishing. "Drink up and get out!"

"Hell, I ain't ready to go home," the old man said. "I've been out so long that my old lady is going to be waiting up for me. Might as well keep her up a little later." 

He grinned, looking mischievous.

"You know of a bar that stays open later?"

I told him that all the bars closed at the same time.

"Damn! I'm not ready to go home."

"If... if you feel like a beer, I got a cooler full of Miller on the back of my truck. When I was a kid I used to drive out to the old quarry and drink beer. Hell, I feel like doing that tonight." 

I was enjoying his company and, like him, I didn't want the night to end.

"Sounds like the plan to me. Let's get out of here before Kate starts throwing thing at us."

I knew from past experiences that he wasn't joking.

I was really second-guessing myself as I grabbed two Millers from my cooler and we climbed into the cab of my pickup. But damn, it made me feel like I was twenty and not seventy years old to be heading out to the quarry.

"Too bad we didn't bring one of those old sluts along with us," the old Marine said. 

I saw him grab his crotch out of the corner of my eye. 

"Hell, I'm horny." 

He took a long drink from his can of beer.

"Me too. But I ain't got a wife to go home to fuck like you have." 

I pulled the pickup near the gravel quarry and turned out the lights. The moon was up, and between the moonlight and the glow from the radio it was as cozy as the bar.

"Well, truth be told, the old battle ax will not let me fuck her anymore. Says my dick it too big," he said.

I laughed and said, "You got to be pulling my leg. Heck you're not as big as a minute. If you've got a big dick it's the biggest thing about you." 

I laughed again.

"You don't believe me," he said in a half angry voice. "Hell, I can prove it real easy." 

The words were hardly out of his mouth when he unzipped his jeans. He reached in and pulled out the longest, thickest dick I had ever seen.

I just set there staring at his huge dick with my mouth open in shock. 

"Damn it. I feel cheated. Why should a little fuck like you have such a monster dick?" I demanded.

It was the old Marine's turn to laugh. 

"Hey, yours can't be that small. Take it out and let's see."

I guess I was really drunk at that point in time because I suddenly found myself unzipping my green work pants and pulling out my little cut dick. I glanced down at my puny dick and over at the old Marine's monster dick and shook my head. 

"Nope, you sure got me beat."

"Make it hard. I bet you got a grower." 

He began to slowly move his hand back and forth over the mushroom head of his own dick, never taking his eyes off mine.

With just a twinge of guilt I started jacking myself off, right there, in front of the old Marine. Even through the alcohol fog in my brain, I couldn't believe that I was actually jacking off in front of another man. Hell, I hadn't even done something like that when I was a kid.

With the old Marine watching, I really didn't expect my dick to get hard. But damn if it didn't swell up like I was twenty years old again. The thing got so hard that it was throbbing.

"Hell, you got a nice dick too. It's not long but nice and thick."

His voice was warm in open admiration. 

"Show me your balls. C'mon."

I felt my pulse quicken, but, I didn't even hesitate. I reached down and undid my pants, and pulled them down to my knees. I dug my hand in my briefs and struggled to pull out my enormous set of balls.

"Wow, I ain't never seen such big nuts! You must shoot a monster load of cum."

Then without asking he reached over and grabbed my balls with his free hand. 

"Damn, they are monster balls." 

He began to massage them.

The shock of having another man touching my nuts stifled the protest in my throat. By the time I recovered from the shock, the touch of the old Marine's rough hands on my bull balls felt so good that I didn't want him to stop. I leaned back and let him massage, pull and squeeze my balls until I thought I was going to shoot off on his hand. I could feel the fire rising and just as I was nearing a climax he pulled his hand away.

Suddenly he had his hand behind my neck and was pulling my head down toward his crotch. 

"Give my big dick a kiss," he urged, forcing my face closer and closer to his crotch.

I wanted to protest, but seeing his monster dick inches from my face sent me into a state of lust that I had never felt before. My warmed up nuts wanted to burst, I wanted to cum. I swear I tried to stop myself, but in spite of my inner battle, I found myself opening my mouth. He knew it. He knew I would before I did. He grunted with satisfaction as he forced my face into his crotch.

The old Marine's dick was hot in my mouth. I ran my tongue around and over it quickly. I gritted myself because I thought he'd taste of piss or something bad but he didn't. 

And damn it if I didn't start sucking the big mushroom head of his dick like I knew what I was doing. I felt surprised, elated. It felt - I felt - I don't know - like a baby sucking its thumb. It felt soothing to have his dick in my mouth - like I'd come home after a very long time.

"Shit! That feels great. Yeah, suck my big dick." 

Strangely enough his words got me even hotter. I actually found myself wanting to please the old Marine as much as I could. So I took as much of his huge dick into my throat as I could without gagging.

"Yeah, you old cocksucker, suck my dick. Suck Big Daddy! Suck him until he squirts!" 

I began to instinctively tongue the shaft of his dick, exploring every ridge, sucking and licking as I went. I wanted to reward him, but more than anything, I wanted to keep his dick in my mouth.

"God damn, you are good, you old queer! Suck me, fag!"

Instead of making me angry, the name calling threw me into a sexual frenzy. I found myself doing the impossible. I was swallowing the old Marine's huge dick an inch at the time. And damn it if I didn't get his entire dick in my throat without gagging.

"Fucking cock sucking, queer farmer!"

The old Marine kept cursing as he began fucking my mouth like he was pumping his wife's pussy. 

"Make me cum, fag! Do it!" he said, slapping me hard on the back of my almost bald head.

I went totally crazy with lust. I buried his dick in my throat until my lips were touching his pubic hair. I don't know how many times I moved my mouth up and down the shaft of his dick as I tongued it. 

Suddenly the old Marine grabbed my head again and held it still, pushing it hard against his crotch as he shot his load deep into my throat. I felt his dick pulse and throb, and then I was swallowing his cum to keep from choking.

He'd barely calmed down when he pushed my head away from his crotch. 

"Hell, that's enough. Don't you know when to quit?"

My old back creaked as I straightened up. I watched the old Marine stuff his still hard dick back into his jeans. I began jacking my own dick as hard and as fast as I could. The old Marine sniffed and turned, looking at my reflection in the window. He drank his Miller Light. Even when I cried out and shot off in my hand he didn't look at me right away. He waited until I stopped puffing and panting before he turned back to look at me.

There was a moment of silence. Some animal called from the quarry in the darkness beyond.

"Rub it on your face!"

I jumped at his sudden drill sergeant's voice. 

"Do it! You fucking fag!"

I looked down, immediately feeling shamed. I found myself obeying him and smearing my huge load of sperm all over my face. It felt sticky and disgusting but damn if a part of me didn't enjoy feeling the cum running down my wrinkled face.

"Look at me!"

I looked slowly up into his deep brown eyes. The old Marine stared back at me, and slowly finished his beer. 

"Get us some more beer and maybe I'll let you suck me off again before we head home."

I got out and pulled two more Miller Lights from the back of the pickup. I got back into the truck and handed the old Marine a beer. 

"I've been looking for an old faggot to suck me off. Seems like I finally found me one."

---

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Judgment

[Author: HR]

I’m tired of the bars, I thought as I walked into Tropics. Houston is singing a beautiful song as only he can as I push my way through the crowd near the piano and then on to the back of the bar. Same faces, including mine. I tried to recall how excited coming to Tropics or Chardee’s used to make me feel, but I couldn’t quite duplicate that long ago state of mind. It’s lost. As I look around the bar while waiting to be noticed by a bartender, I realize that I will never again have that magical feeling.

Now I’m just here to get out of my tiny apartment and have a drink. I know, looking over the familiar faces around me, that I’m never going to meet Mr. Right here. That sense that he is going to be the next one in the door, or the next one to push up to the bar beside me to order a drink, is gone. Here I am, 62 next birthday, all my dreams are gone. I know now that I will never be rich and probably will never love again. At least not in the way I have loved before. Guess once you know real love you just can’t settle for anything less. And looking around the bar, all I could see is less, much less.

Oh, for the first few months after my lover died, I had high hopes. I had visited Tropics and Chardee’s, every night and each night I had been certain that I would meet Mr. Wonderful. Well, I just kept meeting Mr. Lust. I finally come to realize that love seldom comes a second time. If ever.

Lifting the Budweiser that the bartender placed in front of me, I take a sip as I wait for the change. I take the bills, shoving a dollar forward. Then with my Bud in my hand I go over to stand beside the fish tank. I feel like the fish. I feel that everyone is looking at me. Whispering. That’s the one that makes the porno movies. How could he have sex with all those guys and still say he loved his lover? What a slimy person.

Yeah, that’s me, I think.

With a sigh, I push the pain into a corner of my mind where I can almost forget it. I lift the beer to my lips and take a long drink. I want to get drunk. I need to. It helps me forget...

I spot a swishy younger guy that keeps writing nasty things about me on the internet and smile. I feel sorry from him. He’s consumed with jealousy. He goes by the handle of 'Mr. Nice Boy', but inside himself he has such self doubt that it spills over into his personality. It's anything but nice. Funny how people chose names for themselves that are opposite to their true personality. I glance away from his prissy features and take a sip. He’s inconsequential and not worth my time ... or even a stray thought.

“Hi.”

I glance to my right. Standing beside me is a man who looks to be in his late sixties. He’s tall and skinny and ugly but in a pleasant way. His ears are huge. So is his nose. His short cropped hair is grey. The old man smiles. His smile is different. One I haven’t seen in years. It . . . it looks real!

“Hello.”

I stop at that.

“You from here?”

His green eyes bore into me like he’s desperate.

“Look, I’m just in here for a beer,” I said, not wanting a long come on. “If you’re looking for sex, you have the wrong person. I make porno videos and I get enough sex doing them.”

Damn! I don’t need another horny vacationer looking for sex. Hell, I should have stayed at home and watched PBS.

“Really, you make porno movies?”

He looks over his glass at me as he takes a drink. His looks interested but eyes are sad.

I wonder if mine are sad...

“Ask anyone here.”

“Is it fun?”

“Not really. It’s work.”

“Oh. Yes, I can see that it might not be as romantic as most people think.”

He brushes his left hand against my leg.

“Are you alone?”

“Very alone, but that doesn’t mean I want company.”

The old man looks me directly in the eyes. I see that sadness in his eyes again. It’s like a mirror image of what I have seen in my eyes for the last few months.

“Oh,” the old man said, but he doesn’t leave. “But I think you need company as much as I do.”

Suddenly I find myself smiling.

“You don’t give up easily, do you?”

“Not when I see something that I want,” he said. He slowly lifts his drink and takes a sip.

“I’m not interested in sex,” I tell him again.

“Neither am I.”

His words catch me off guard. I look him in the eyes. I see a flicker of hope in his eyes and wonder how long has it been since I have seen hope in my own eyes.

“Look, you seem to be a nice guy. You really don’t want to get mixed up with me. Like I said, I make porno movies. That means I also am in them having sex.”

“I told you I wasn’t looking for sex,” the old man says, and smiles.

“Then what are you looking far?” I say, getting annoyed.

“Love. Someone to make love with. That’s different from sex, you know.”

The tall old man's earnest voice cuts into my mind like a hot knife through butter.  

When’s the last time I made love? I found myself thinking.

I sigh.

“I’ve heard that line before.”

I know that there is suddenly great sadness in my eyes as I remember Frank, and what making love really is.

“Not from me you haven’t,” the old man said.

“No, but people like you. Snow birds,” I say and start to walk away from him.

“I live here. Have for forty years.”

His words stop me in my tracks.

“Then why haven’t I seen you here before?”

“I had a lover and we stuck close to home. Never liked bars.”

The old man took another sip of his drink.

“And still don’t.”

“What happened? You break up with your lover?”

I look directly in his green eyes.

“No, he died of a heart attack,” the old man says, with deep sadness in his voice.

“Mine too. My friend died of a heart attack.”

I suddenly feel the urge to move closer to the old man. I can just about feel his skin, his softness between my fingers.

“Hard, isn’t it.”

I look confused.

“Hard to find someone in a bar I mean,” he says.

“Yeah. Very hard.” I answer.

“Want to come home with me?”

His voice is sad but hopeful.

“O.K.” 


What the hell. Nothing ventured. Nothing gained.

The old man immediately places his drink on the bar in front of the fish tank and heads through the crowd toward the door. I follow and, as I approach the spot at the bar where Mr. Wishes-he-was-a-nice-boy is sitting, the prissy boy tries to catch my eye. Something to say? I ignore him.

Outside, I find the old man waiting, watching the door as I step out onto the sidewalk. He is smiling. His smile is real and contagious I smile back.

“You're handsome,” the old man says.

I laugh.

“Guess you need glasses. There’s a certain person in the bar that thinks I resemble a rat,” I said.

“Well, he’s the one that needs glasses,” the old man says.

"I think both of you need glasses."

I laugh and the old man laughs too. When I stop laughing, I smile, suddenly feeling happy for the first time in months.

“I’ll follow you."

“No. Ride with me. I don’t want you out of my sight.”

The old man suddenly is looking serious.

“But my car . . . ”

“Please. Leave it. Ride with me. Please?"

I can’t resist the sudden desperation in his voice.

“Sure.”

I follow him as he crosses the street. The big sleek BMW he approaches is racy red in color and looks fast. The old man starts telling me his life story as he cranks the powerful BMW’s engine and zips away from his parking spot.

I see he’s heading toward Las Olas. It makes me nervous. I don’t like people with money. They always seem arrogant to me. But then I glance over at the old man and he seems anything but arrogant. He’s as down to earth as anyone I have met in a long time. That’s what I get for stereotyping people.

I try to ignore the huge mansion that he takes me to. But it’s hard. Suddenly I wonder what I doing here. The guy is out of my league.

“Hey, maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

The old man looks sideways at me as he parks the BMW in a four-car garage occupied by two Mercedes and a Jag.

“Why, what’s the matter?”

“Well, like I said in the bar, I'm not interested in sex. In a one night stand.”

The old man looks me directly in the eye.

“Please, don’t hold it against me because I have money.”

His voice once again is almost pleading.

“I can see it in your expression. You’re suddenly not comfortable.”

I looked hard at the old man. He smiled. He nodded toward the garage door.

“Come on inside.”

Finally, I too smile. What the hell! A one night stand with him isn’t all that bad, I tell myself as I follow him out of the garage. The house is huge. I've worked in restaurants with kitchens smaller than this. I stare like a hick at the expensive furniture and oriental rugs in room after room as I'm lead through the mansion until finally we come to a bedroom. It is breathtakingly beautiful. The wallpaper alone must've cost the old man a fortune. In one corner of the bedroom there's a huge statue - some Greek warrior. I notice its dick has been broken off at some point in its history. Despite in its chipped and scarred condition, the statue defiantly radiates a deep beauty. The bedroom is like a center piece in a copy of Architectural Digest.

The old man stops and turns to face me as he nears the bed. I pause. He walks toward me stopping so close that I can smell his natural maleness. I like how he smells, not disguised by expensive perfumes that he could well afford. His scent triggers a sudden desire in me. I don’t flinch when he steps nearer and puts his long strong arms around me and hugs me. I find myself hugging him back, first lightly, and then with passion as the burning need for the old man rushes over me.

We kiss.

He presses his big full lips against mine. I open my mouth. His tongue slides inside. I love the clean taste of his tongue as it borrows deep into my mouth and then down my throat. He presses his mouth hard against mine, driving his tongue even deeper into my throat. I respond to the building passion his kiss releases. I hug the old man even tighter as I return his kiss with more passion than I could ever remember feeling before.

God, please make this more than a one night stand.

The old man breaks off his kiss. He steps back and looks at me.

“You don’t look like you have a big cock.”

I'm taken aback - that was out of the blue.

“What do you mean?”

“In your videos you look like you have a huge cock. But in person you don’t show a trace of a bulge in your crotch,” the old man said.

“You have seen one of my videos?”

“All three of them. I think they are hot. I’ve been jacking off the past few months every night as I watch your big dick spewing cum.”

The old man lurches forward and grabs my crotch.

“Yes, now I feel it. Thick even when it’s soft.”

“You came to the bar looking for me.”

I hear those old accusing tones in my voice.

“Yes. I’ve been going to the bar every night this week hoping that you would be there.”

The old man brushes his hand through his white hair and then slowly begins to unbutton his short. I see the white hair on his chest. It is thick. I suddenly want to run my fingers though it. I reach out and touch his hairy chest.

“Lots of guys get turned on by my hairy chest.”

The old man pulls his shirt completely off. His nipples almost audibly pop as the shirt drags over them.

“I got white pubic hair too.”

He knows the effect his boasts are having on me. His fingers move down and began unbuckling his belt. He cinches in his belt to free the leather from the buckle and in the instant the fabric tightens over his bulge.

“And I've got a big dick. Bigger even than yours.”

His voice is filled with pride as he pulls first his gray slacks down and then, slowly, slowly, his jockey shorts.

“See?”

My eyes zero in on his crotch. The old man didn’t lie. His crotch is a mass of pure white hair. His dick, although soft, hangs down over his big watery balls like some pale white snake attached to his body. I’ve seen lots of dicks in my life but never one with the portions of his monster.

“You should be the one making videos,” I blurt, hurriedly undressing.

“Well, my wife might not like seeing me in a dirty video.”

He reaches down and lifts his dick, fondling it. I can feel the saliva building in my mouth.

“You’re married!”

“Yeah but we haven’t lived together for twenty years. Just a marriage of convenience.”

The old man looks up at me.

“You know I have to look respectable.”

He skins back his foreskin. His dick head is slightly pointed and red.

“Do you like to be fucked?”

“No.”

He notices my slight wince.

“Then that's what I am going to do to you. I’m going to fuck you with my big dick. I'm gonna fuck you hard.”

His words cause my own dick to harden. I fear taking his monster dick, but at the same time I want it. I want to be his. I want to give the old man all the pleasure I can, even if it means pain. I step out of my boxer shorts and stand presented, an offering before the naked old man.

He barely glances at me. Calmly he turns around and lies over a lounge.

“Eat my ass! I want you to do something to me that I haven’t seen you do in one of your videos.”

I hesitate, uncertain.

“Come on! Eat it! Now!”

His demanding voice sounds fatherly and stern. His orders remind me of my father’s voice. I find myself kneeling down behind his ass, shaking slightly.

“Stick your tongue inside my asshole.”

I reach between the old man’s legs and grab his dick in my hand, and I press my face between the cheeks of his ass. My lips touch his silky ass bud. I kiss it like I was kissing his lips. Then the old man moans, and I flick my tongue out and touch it to his asshole. The old man moans louder. I start tonguing his asshole, while jacking his dick.

The old man’s asshole is tight but as I lick and press the tip of my tongue against it, his asshole loosens up until I am able to get the tip of it inside him.

“Yes! Do dirty things to me.”

I force my tongue deeper inside the old man's asshole.

“God! That feels great. Deeper. Fuck me boy. Use your tongue!”

His deep fatherly voice, his controlling tone... I find it impossible to resist his orders.

I work my tongue completely inside his asshole, feeling the silky inside of his ass pussy. I love the feeling.

"Fuck me with your tongue!”

I began to work my tongue in and out of his asshole. The old man starts hunching. I love knowing that I am giving the old man pleasure. I work my tongue harder and faster. He hunches like crazy as his huge dick springs to full size.

“That’s enough! I don’t want to cum yet.”

He pulls his ass from my reach. He turns around and faces me as I stay knelt down on the floor. His huge dick is pointed directly toward my mouth. He takes a step toward me and suddenly his monster dick in pressed against my lips.

I hesitate a moment too long, and he slaps my face.

“Suck it, bitch, suck it like I’ve watched you suck those old guys’ dicks on your videos.”

His words make me feel cheap. My cheek is stinging, my nose starts trickling, and my eyes watering, but I get a strange pleasure out of what he says. I grab his thick white snake and open my mouth. He shoves his dick so far down my throat that I gag.

“Come on, you can do better than that! Suck it.”

He shoves his dick back down my throat.

I fight to keep from gagging again. His dick reaches impossibly deep down my throat. I feel like I am swallowing a sword. I don’t know what keeps me from gagging. But somehow I manage to deep throat the old man’s entire dick.

“Yeah! Take it, you fucking slut! Take it all!”

The old man reaches down and grabs me behind the head. I manage to take his mouth fucking. His dick hurts my throat yet I don’t protest. It's tragic, but I just want to please him so much.

“Damn, you have a hot warm mouth. Just like I thought you would.”

His voice is filled with pleasure. I enjoy knowing that I am giving him pleasure.

“I wonder how many dicks you’ve sucked.”

He fucks my mouth ever harder.

“How many men have cum in your mouth? God! I could shoot off in your mouth right now.”

The old man shoves me back as he pulls his dick out of my mouth. I fall back on the oriental rug, reeling, gasping for breath.

“Lift them legs. You are about to get fucked by the biggest dick in Florida.”

The old man pulls a tube of KY from a mahogany night stand beside the bed.

Even though I knew that I was in for a great deal of pain, I wanted the old man to fuck me. He was standing over me, tall and handsome. So fatherly looking. I wanted to please daddy. I want to be his boy. I wanted to give him all the pleasure he wanted no matter how much it hurt.

Then the old man kneels down between my legs. I lift my head and watch him guide the head of his dick toward my tight asshole. He looks into my eyes. His green eyes are afire with passion. His face is stern and determined like I remember my father’s face when he would gave me an order.

“I’m going to fuck me a slut.”

The old man presses the head of his dick against my asshole. I feel the coolness of the KY. Then I gasp. The pain is incredible as the old man applies pressure to the head of his dick. It feels like he is trying to enter me with a baseball bat. I grit my teeth to keep from crying out, but I do anyway. I want to please him. I want him to be mine. I think I’m falling in love with him.

“Hell, I didn’t expect a slut like you to have such a nice tight asshole,” the old man said and he pushed his hips forward.

The head of his dick pops into my asshole. I cry out. The pain brings tears to my eyes. The pressure of his dick on my bladder makes me piss a little.

“God! You are tight. Love your tight asshole!” the old man said, “Take more of my dick, you slut!”

I feel him forcing more of his huge dick inside me. The pain causes my back to arch. But the smile on the old man’s face keeps me from telling him to stop. I want to please him so me that I bite my lip and say nothing as he skewers more of his huge dick inside me. I feel like I can’t take another inch but he keeps shoves more and more dick into me. Finally, I have all of him inside of me. I feel good in spite of the pain. I am his. All his. I can take him and give him the pleasure he wants.

“Now, slut, I’m going to fuck you like you never been fucked before!”

He stares into my eyes with his inflamed green eyes, wild passion etched into his face.

“Your asshole is never going to be the same.”

Then the old man starts pumping his long dick in and out of me with such speed and power that I almost faint. I can’t decide which is greater the pain or the pleasure. It hurts like hell, but it also feels great to have such a huge dick moving rapidly in and out of my asshole.

"Oh God, fuck me Daddy, fuck me like you hate me."

I feel like a woman getting fucked. I like that thought. I like knowing that I can give the old man such pleasure. Surely he is enjoying it even more than me. Surely he loves me! God! I love him. I want to be his boy!

“I’m cumming!”

I know it, maybe before he does. I feel the old man's body tensing up. He jerks his dick out of my asshole, and points his dick head toward my face and shoots off. I feel his cum striking my stomach, chest and then my chin as great gobs of white sperm flies out from the head of his dick.

The old man shakes himself like a wet dog. Then he stands up over me. I look up into his stern face and began jacking off. I can feel the old man’s cum dripping of my chin and running down my neck. My dick is rock hard. I want the old man to see me shoot off on myself.

“Hey, I got to go to bed. Get dressed, I’ll call you a cab.”

I can't believe I'm hearing this. He sounds so unconcerned. The old man turns his back on me. I watch in disbelief as he walks over to a telephone on the night stand on the left side of the bed. He picks up the receiver and begins to dial a number.

My dick deflates like a severely punctured tire. One moment it is rock hard and another moment it is limp in my hand. I sit up as I listen to him coolly giving the dispatcher his address. When he finishes he turns to me.

“Hurry up! The cab will only be five minutes. You need to get dressed.”

He pulls out his wallet and draws a hundred-dollar bill out. He tosses it on the floor next to me.

“Here’s cab fare.”

I ignore the money as I stagger to my feet. I can feel tears burning in my eyes.

“Why didn’t you let me drive my car if you didn’t want me to spend the night with you?”

“Please! I can't have a trick’s car parked in my driveway, especially something as common as what you drive.”

His face writhed in a sneer.

“When will I see you again?”

I know the answer already.

“Oh, I’ll call you sometime,” he says, hurriedly.

“Yeah, I am sure you will, you asshole.”

I grab my shirt and shorts, and quickly dress.

“What do you expect?”

His face betrayed his true feelings.

“You are nothing but a slut. A would-be porno star. Get used to it.”

Rage builds up inside me. There's a deep pain between my eyebrows. But then I smile through it.

“Thanks for the lesson.”

I turn and walk out of the bedroom.

“Guess I forgot my place,” I say, over my shoulder.

I want to strike out and destroy something, but don’t, knowing that it really is my own fault.

I took the first step down the path that lead to his, not him, I thought as I walked out into the hot night air. But whatever he thinks I am, he's wrong. 

Even if I am the only one that knows it.

curation: jhievez2013.tumblr.com

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curation: jhievez2013.tumblr.com

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