A Long Goodbye

New Life In An old Friendship

The heat outside was enervating, the drawn shades on the window giving the room at least the look of coolness. The ceiling fan overhead whirred comfortingly and only vaguely disturbed the stillness of the warm eucalyptus air. 

He was playing with my foreskin in a casual, almost lackadaisical manner as we lay on his bed. He had been friendly but distant when I’d arrived, as if our recent intimacy had created a barrier between us; a not unexpected response, if I delved back into our past couplings. 

We had known each other for years and had tried to be lovers at one stage but friendship seemed best. He had a few years on me, and neither us were young anymore, but our bond was secure and he remained to me the same handsome man I saw in memories eye.

When he asked, after an hour of easy conversation, if I’d mind resting with him on his bed I was pleasantly surprised and only too happy to oblige. Mirroring his well known contrariness, age and ill health had made him a more sexual being than he had ever been in the past, and I was pleased to be a part of this Indian summer of desire.

We were both out of practice with each other but old age had not robbed him of a certain bluntness, and when he told me to take off my clothes I didn’t think twice. Expecting him to do the same I found myself to be the only naked man in the room, he having taken up his position on the bed still clothed. 

Despite our recent encounter it had been a long time since he’d seen me entirely naked, and I admit to feeling self-conscious and exposed under his gaze, the years having given me a belly and even more body hair. I caught sight of myself fleetingly in the mirror, my furry balls hanging lower than usual, my cock limp and sheathed in its snug foreskin. I wondered what he would make of this much changed man. 

His eyes gave nothing away as they took me in but his arms welcomed me onto the space next to him and I nestled into his embrace, breathing in his warm fragrance as I rested against his chest. 

His hand stroked my hairy belly, lingering there approvingly before his fingers tousled my untended bush and moved down to my still flaccid cock. I thought of blaming the heat but knew that hardness was not what he desired this time, so relaxed into my happy limpness. 

He had always enjoyed playing with my foreskin and was happy to fondle it without purpose, other than the pleasure he got from its fleshy feel. I closed my eyes and drifted away, at some stage vaguely aware that his calloused fingers had done their work. My orgasm when it came was gentle and barely disturbed the hushed stillness of the moment. 

An old mantle clock chimed somewhere deep in the house, rousing me from the happy torpor I had fallen into. The old tin roof creaked in the heat and I could feel his heavy breathing as I lay against him. 

Uncharacteristically I dared ask him to take off his clothes, and equally uncharacteristically he obliged, pulling off his shorts and struggling out of his loose tee shirt. 

His soft, smooth body felt warm and comforting against my own, and I leant into him, inhaling the scent of his ginger armpit as I played with the pale brown discs of his nipples. Unlike me, he had lost weight with age, but his pale body remained a thing of pleasure to me.

I let my hand wander down over his belly and into the dark fur of his pubes, naturally tight and fine, before daring to go further. His penis was soft and pale, like the rest of him, the velvet hood of his foreskin loosely drawn over the head. 

I expected at any moment for him to draw away, or at least reposition my hand, but my exploration was allowed to continue unhindered. My fingers gently squeezed the flower of folded skin at the opening, pulling it back slightly to reveal his knob before folding it back over. He kissed the top of my head, permission to continue.

I was surprised to feel the slipperiness of precum under my finger tips, another encouragement, and I gently worked a finger inside his skin, smearing the juice over the head, feeling a slight thickening of his shaft, a slight catch in his breathing.

He stiffened slowly, and I knew enough not to call attention to the fact. His breathing quickened as my fingers coaxed him, and then almost without warning a stream of warm thick cream, surprising him as much as me. I knew enough to go gently as his spasm continued, his cloudy jizz covering his stomach and bush before it slowed and finally abated, leaving him gasping and exhausted.  

I kept his cock in my hand as it rapidly softened, fearful of breaking the moment. His breathing softened too as I looked up at him. He rewarded me with a warm smile and a gentle kiss on my forehead, bringing unintended tears to my eyes.

I scooped his warm cum from the soft jumble of his bush and lifted it to my nose, inhaling his intense, musky scent. His semen was a lovely gift, rarely given. I was unsure if it would be gifted again as I mingled it with my own, stroking myself back to life.