The Outsider

[Author: HR]  

The Outsider

“Queer!” 

The words seemed to come from God as they echoed from above. I glanced up at the tall grain elevator knowing the source of the name calling immediately. The source was the top of the grain elevator, but I didn’t know who. It could be my next door neighbor as he managed the grain elevator, or the young guy that cut my grass, he worked in the grain elevator, or someone that I had never seen that had heard the rumors that I was gay.

“I’m going on seventy and I don’t need this crap,” I said to myself as I climbed into my old tan colored Oldsmobile. Like me, the car was beyond its prime and need to be retired. “I guess I should sell the bookstore and head to Fort Lauderdale. There I’ll just be one queer among many, although I’ll be the only one talking out loud to himself.” I chuckled at calling myself queer to keep from crying.

I glanced in the rearview mirror. My white hair was thinning to the point that if I didn’t comb it over from the side I would be totally bald on the top of my head. My jowls were sagging with age and the fine age lines had long since turned to deep wrinkles on my round face. Yet my smile was still fresh and my green eyes still sparkled in spite of my advancing years.

Sometimes I found myself wondering why I had bothered coming back to my hometown of Roelyn, Iowa; to live in the house where I was born and raised beside the towering grain elevator only ten miles from Fort Dodge, Iowa. Why I had struggled for fifteen years to develop the best bookstore in Iowa, in a town too small to support it. “Guess I was, and still am, a dreamer,” I mumbled to myself as I turned onto the paved county road leading to Fort Dodge like a straight dark line pained down the middle of an endless green corn field.

I tried not to think of Rich. But I couldn’t keep thoughts of him for surfacing. Killed by a senseless motor cycle accident eight months ago at the age of thirty-six. I sighed. I never knew just how much I loved that uneducated farm boy from Alabama until he was ripped from my life. Heck, now I realized he was my life. Yes, he wasn’t perfect. I knew he slept around behind my back, but with such a wide age difference, I just let it go knowing that he loved me.

A tear rolled down my right cheek as I remembered just how often he would tell me that he loved me and how I had never once in our fifteen years together had ever told him that I loved him. But how could I do that? How could I tell another man that I loved him when I didn’t consider myself gay, a fag, a queer?! Well, it took his death for me to realize that I was very much all of those things. And also to realize just how much of an outsider I was in the very town where I was born.

As I drove across the Des Moines River into Fort Dodge, I suddenly realized that I no longer looked forward to going to work at the bookstore. The sight of the orange and green store front on at 710 Central Avenue with the sign “Wigdahl Bookfinders” hanging proudly over the door no longer filled me with pride. Yes, I had built the store into the best private bookstore in Iowa, but lost my soul in the process. I had spent so much time bringing my dream to reality that I had neglected the very person that had made it possible. His humor, endless energy and love had allowed me to concentrate on building up the bookstore. Now, I realized as I turned into the alley beside the bookstore and stopped in front of the garage door, that none of it mattered without Rich.

I was just closing the door of the garage when someone called out. 

“Sorry to hear about Rich.”

I paused and glanced into the alley. There stood a man even older than me. I knew him and had since I was a child growing up in Roelyn. His name was Sven and, like me, he was of Norwegian decent. He came in the bookstore to chat with me once a month or so. I always though he was handsome. Unlike me he wasn’t overweight. He was slim and muscular for his advanced age and had the most beautiful blue eyes that I had ever seen.

“Yes, it’s been difficult running the bookstore without him,” I said, “How are things with you, Sven?”

“Oh, lonely as usual. You know living by yourself isn’t any fun especially when you get older,” Sven said.

“I’m beginning to realize that more and more with each passing day,” I answered.

“Yes, but at least you had some good years with Rich,” Sven said.

I stiffened as I quickly understood what he was hinting at.

“And I’ve never had anybody.”

I didn’t know what to say. Here an acquaintance that I had know since my childhood was subtly telling me that he knew that I was gay.

Sven cleared his throat. “Frank, I always admired you, even when we were kids.” He spoke quickly, as though afraid the words wouldn’t come out. “I . . . mean. I really liked you.”

“Why thanks, Sven,” I found myself saying. “And I’ve always liked you too.”

“Really?!” The old man’s blue eye lit up in sudden excitement. “Would you come over to my place tonight?” 

“Well, Sven, I don’t close the bookstore until 10:00 tonight,” I answered. I found myself wishing that I could just walk over and hug the old man. I thought we both need a hug.

“That’s all right. I could fix you a snack and maybe we could have a glass of wine together.”

“Yes, that would be nice, very nice,” I said, smiling and nodding my head. “You still live on your parent’s farm between here and Roelyn?” I asked.

“Yes, still there.”

“Well, it’s right on my way home. How about 10:30 tonight as it takes me a while to do the book work.”

“Sure thing!” Sven spoke up excitedly, “That would be great, Frank. See you then.” He hurried away as though he was fearful that I might suddenly change my mind.

All through the day my thoughts were on Sven. I felt flashes of guilt that I was thinking of another man with Rich less than a year gone from my life. But I couldn’t help myself. My short thick dick even got rock hard several times as I stood behind the cash register between customers, thinking about the old blue-eyed Norwegian. I even found myself wondering if he had a dick as big as Rich’s had been.

Later, when I drove up to the old farm house where Sven lived, I was so excited that my hands were trembling. I parked my car. I knocked on the door and waited anxiously, getting a sudden hard on just standing there.

“Great! Thanks for coming by,” Sven said as he opened the door.

I couldn’t answer. He was completely naked! My eyes zeroed in on his crotch as though they had a will of their own. My green eyes widened at the sight of his monster pecker hanging limp between his hairy legs like a huge Polish sausage. The darn thing looked too big to reach around and the foreskin cover head of his enormous dick reached impossibly close to his knees. I couldn’t do any thing but stare down at the old blue-eyed Norwegian’s crotch.

“Sorry, I thought you knew that I’m a nudist,” Sven said, but didn’t try to hide his nakedness from me as he stepped aside. “Come on in, Frank.”

Somehow I managed to get my suddenly weak legs to respond and walked past him and into the living room. “Nothing wrong with being naked in your own home,” I finally said in a shaky voice. “I sleep naked. Guess it not much different,” I added, lamely.

“Oh, I just can’t stand clothes. I get naked ever chance I get. I even do my plowing naked. Love sitting atop that big tractor completely naked. Hell, it gets me so turned on, I sometime jack off right then and there, especially if some of my neighbors stop by to chat while I’m out on the tractor. They know I work naked but they still flag me down sometimes to chat. Just last week old man Oliver, of all people, stopped me as I was turning around at the end of the corn row where my property meets his. And damn if that church-going old Lutheran didn’t pull out his pecker right in front of me and start pissing as we were chatting. And I just reached down between my legs and pulled up my old white snake and jacked off in front of him. And damn if he didn’t just keep chatting with me like nothing was going on until I shot off,” Sven said. He reached down and pulled his long enormous pecker up in a demonstration.

I took a deep breath as excitement flashed through me like an electric shock. I suddenly felt like I didn’t really know the old man standing beside me - although I had known him since we were kids. Never once when he was visiting me in the bookstore had he ever hinted of being an exhibitionist or even gay.

“Why don’t you take your clothes off?” He stared at me and raised an eyebrow. 

When I just stood there looking dumb-fuddled, he added, “You know, like you take off your shoes when you enter a Japanese house. Here you take off your clothes.”

“Yeah . . . I understand,” I said, but still hesitated.

“Come on, Frank. Don’t be shy with me. I’ve been wanting to see you naked ever since you came back to Iowa.”

I found myself blushing. I had never done something so exotic before. I was embarrassed, both from my overweight body and my undersized dick. But the eager look on the old Norwegian’s face gave me courage. “Well, if you want to see an overweight, small dick, old man naked, then here goes,” I finally said. I took my suit coat off and then undid my tie.

Sven moved over to the sofa and took a seat as he watched me undress. And as he looked on he started masturbating openly in front of me. I couldn’t believe that he was doing that, but I was so excited that it overrode my shyness. When I pulled down my jockey shorts, my short thick dick sprung up so hard that it caused my big watery balls to bounce up and down.

“You’re beautiful,” Sven said as he stroked his long thick dick. “And look at your huge balls.”

“And you are totally blind?” I felt a warm sensation flow through my body at his praise. “I’m overweight and my dick looks like a ten-year-old boy’s dick beside yours.”

Then suddenly the old Norwegian was down on his knees in front of me jacking his enormous pecker hard and fast as he looked up at me. “You are beautiful!” He said and then he closed his mouth around my dick.

“Oh me!” I cried out as the old man’s warm wet tongue began to massage my short fat dick as he held my entire dick in his mouth. “That feels wonderful!” My knees suddenly grew so weak that I feared that I was going to fall. They did bend slightly as the old man tongued the tip of my circumcised peter.

“I’ve got to fuck you!” The old Norwegian said, suddenly pulling his mouth away from my dick. “Turn around!” His orders, his loud, manly voice ... I found myself compelled to obey. “Now bend that moon white ass over.”

Even though I felt humiliated at showing my asshole to the old man, I couldn’t stop myself from doing as he ordered. I bent over exposing my asshole to him. And suddenly felt his wonderful warm wet tongue flicking against my asshole. I moaned. Although Rich had fucked me many, many times, he had never rimmed my ass. GOD! It felt wonderful. The old man didn’t stop with just licking my asshole, suddenly I felt his snakelike tongue wiggling its way inside my asshole.

The sudden rush of pleasure caused by the old man’s tongue as it entered me almost made me faint. Suddenly I was hunching his tongue involuntarily. And in response the old man just drove his snaking tongue even deeper inside my asshole. Then he started turning and twisting it. I almost lost my mind.

I was so hot that when he told me to get down on my all fours, I did so immediately. It only dawned on me what he was going to do when suddenly I felt the head of his huge pecker pressing against my saliva dripping asshole. He entered me. I cried out. The pain was unbearable. I tried to pull my chubby ass away from him, but the old man held me in place as thought I was no more than a child. He speared me with his enormous long fat dick. I felt like a pig having a stake driven up his asshole.

The pain of something so enormous entering me caused me to teeter on the brink of fainting. Inch after fat inch of dick was forced inside of me until I was totally filled up with the old man’s huge dick. But then as he slowly pulled it out of until only the enormous head of his dick was left inside me, the pain turned to pleasure. Even when he plunged his long fat dick deep into me, I felt more pleasure than pain.

Then Sven was fucking me so hard and fast that I could hardly breathe. I collapsed on the floor. The old Norwegian fell on top of me driving his huge pecker ever further inside of me. He fucked me and fucked me again until I lost all track of time. I was almost senseless when he finally pulled his huge dick out of me and rolled me over. He shot off on my face. It should have felt disgusting. It didn’t. I suddenly found myself enjoying the gushing of his thick white sperm onto my face.

I reached down to masturbate, but the old man brushed my hand from my dick as he slipped down between my legs and once again took my short fat dick into his mouth. He had me so hot that I immediately shot off in Sven’s mouth. He swallowed my load and then used his tongue and mouth to suck out the last few drops.

“That was wonderful,” Sven told me as he set on the floor beside me. “Sex with you was better than I have ever visualized it would be over all these years.”

“Thanks,” I said, suddenly feeling my usual shy demeanor returning. “I could use a towel to clean up my face.

“Leave it. You look great with my load of cum running down your face. Please leave the cum on,” the old man pleaded.

“Sure,” I said, shocked at myself.

“I want to sit across the table from you and watch you eating with my load of cum dripping from your queer face.”

For the first time in my life I suddenly didn’t resent being called a queer.

“Yes, I am a queer,” I mumbled, “And I’ll always be one.”