Trevor

Trevor

OK. I know he was just 20. But, if there was ever a time when I wanted young, it was now. And now would not get me into trouble. Usually, in fact, I had always been with men my own age (50+), or maybe a bit younger, but never with a teen or 20-something. Just did not feel right.

But this was different. Something about Trevor had gotten to me, gotten past my defenses, and stirred up my desires. Of course, there was the reasonable concern that he would have no interest in me. To be honest, I am 55. Height/weight proportional, sort of toned, still OK to look, though with white hair. Having little body hair, and shaving a lot of that, helps, I think.

Now, I never liked to watch gay twinks porn, or porn with older men having their way with young men or boys, and surely there was no interest whatsoever in young boys. No interest. I did not go to places where there might be young men. My life just did have that temptation built into it. Men were my interest. And only men seemed to have any interest in me, in any way, let alone sexual. Hell, being on the DL id not help and certainly increased the danger of young…

How did this Trevor thing start? Since it is not a fairy tale, well not that kind, I can’t start with “Once Upon a Time.”

The time and date are pretty specific, July 12, 2019. The place, my town, my street, my neighborhood. The first point of contact, a flyer put through the mailbox:

PLEASE HELP ME WITH COLLEGE THIS FALL. WILL DO OR HELP WITH YARD/GARDEN PROJECTS. $20 AND HOUR. HARD WORKER. NO JOB TOO SMALL. TREVOR.

 There was a picture of a young man, maybe 6 ft., nice build, long blond hair –  to his shoulders, shorts and a tee shirt, socks and boots, did I say a nice build? And very good-looking, Cute, not a he-man, but a nice looking kid with a nice smile and sexy, REALLY SEXY eyes. They looked right at you.

Now ordinarily those yard work flyers, cut your grass flyers, clean out your gutters flyers – right in the trash. But… this one I put the flyer on my desk intending not to do anything with it. I did not throw it away. There was something about those eyes, the long hair, the cute face, the shorts (did I wonder what they were hiding?). OK, maybe I might have downloaded the picture if I could have. But maybe not. I was NOT interested in young men. Not interested. I would throw it away tomorrow. I would certainly not let the wife know about this. Though, maybe she might be give the OK to help out this kid. And if I just looked…

So, I showed her the flyer. She said, “You could use some help.”

I said, “OK, you know I do not like to work with others.”

“Hey, if he follows up, give him a shot, and he is Cute… I might like to have him around.”

Right, no sex here for twenty years and you would like him around? Well, stranger things have been written about. Maybe he would fuck her brains out… crazy… and at least I had they OK to see what might happen.

Tomorrow came. Well, he was interested in getting work.

So he took the second step. At 3 p.m. on the morning of the 13th, the door bell rang. Who could that be?. The wife was out, away until the 15th on business.

Yes, I am on the DL. Married meant I had to do what I could do when I could do it. When she is out, I almost always get nude and enjoy some porn. And I entertain men here, when I can, when she as at work. Nice fixed hours. I love to get down in my playroom in the cellar – designed for quick set up and quick take down. Toys, lubes, a sling, a rim seat, if only I could have a fisting bench.

Let’s get real. I am gay.

Today I was sitting at my desk, into a Jeff Palmer bareback from Hot Desert Knights, he’s fisting two guys, I love his cock. I’m watching.  I’m hard, close. And then the door bell rings. I have plans to meet with my toys later. This is a lame area when it comes to men, especially men who will have sex with an older guy, I mean 50s+. And I am 55. But she was away.

This kind of interruption had been known to happen. I had mastered the art of quickly getting dressed. I had to pass muster, especially if it was one of her friends. Shorts and tee shirt ready, and off with the cock ring to bring down any erection, and I had one, I was close, so close. It was not one of her friends. And it was not the letter carrier, or UPS, or Fed Ex… It was the young man on the flyer.

So… I opened the door. More flustered than I would have been had it even been  my wife back sooner than I might have expected and needing to get in through the front door because she needed help bringing in the groceries. No. It was HIM. Why should that matter? I was not into young men, not, not, not, but this was HIM, in the flesh, better looking than in the picture and not afraid to make eye contact. And I did like those eyes. Jeff Palmer had great eyes.

“Hello. My name is Trevor. Did you get my flyer?”

“Yes., I did.”

“Any projects. I am eager to work hard.”

Hard. I hope I wasn’t getting…

“I am sure you are, but… I do all of the work here in the garden and yard myself. Kind of picky about that…”

He looked me in the eyes, smiled, and, said “I understand that. May I check back, may I…”

I found myself saying, “Well don’t go right away. Let me think about what you might do.”

Oh, to spend some time with this man.

What was I thinking?

And then I said, “Come around to the back, through the open gate on the north side of the house and down the path and into the back garden and around to the deck. I may just have a project.”

I could not let him in the house. I could not let the neighbors see me let a young man into my house. Hell, it was bad they might see older guys come in. They, at least, might be contractors or work colleagues.

“Great. I will head back there now.”

“See you in three minutes.”

“See you in three minutes.” I had said that? I had. And now, what was I going to do. Those eyes had stirred me up, not speak of… I had to get that thought out of my head. What would we talk about? What project could I bring up? Was there one I would like a hand doing? Of course not. But. Yes. The trees.

“See you made it.”

“Not so hard to get here.”

Hard. What a word. Difficult would have been better. Hard was not what I wanted to be thinking about. I did not want to be thinking with my cock. Maybe if he were older. With an earring. Or a tattoo. Or some other sign of a possible confluence of interest. But I had never, ever, made any kind of move on some guy coming here to bid a job. And young men were not my thing? And here?  I don’t think so. But… that stirring. And what about the fact that I was wearing shorts, pretty short in the crotch, not those baggy basketball shorts, these showed of a lot of leg which I liked, and no underwear. OK to cover for the door hello. But not for something like this.

“Well.” How difficult was this conversation going to be? Difficult. Focus on the goals. First, make this a good visit. Don’t do anything you could get in trouble for, like a grabbing his cock. But he is over 18. His cock. Damn? His cock. I love cock. What was his like? Stop it!

Second, if there is a way, get him back, AND YOU HAVE WORK, GET HIM BACK, BUT THIS IS ABOUT WORK! ISN’T IT? MAYBE. COULD IT BE NOT ABOUT WORK? I DO NOT LIKE YOUNG MEN.

Third, find out why you want him back when there are not really any projects where I need help.

Fourth… DAMN… HOW DO I GET HIM BACK FOR SEX? I WANT HIM!

“Sir.” Sir.” … well I do have white hair. “What do you have in mind?”

Does a young man who calls you Sir, and I did not think it meant that, want more than your respect?

I hoped he could not read my mind, because it was jumping ahead to the fourth goal. And that could not possibly be in his mind. He had to be straight. Girls had to be hot for him. He must have the pick of pussy. But then, that is what people thought about me in the day, well, or was I fooling myself? Yes about me. But not abut him.  But maybe the long hair… but that was not a sign in my day, but that day was a long time ago, but then I am gay now… what did I know then or now?

“Let’s take a walk about.” I hoped that might calm down the stirring in my shorts. And by standing, there would be no problem with their being short.

“Great garden. I love gardens. I would love to do some work here if you have any. And it looks like I could learn some things from you. You must love the flowers, the trees, don’t you?”

“I do. Thank you. Nice.”

Fuck he had nice legs. It looked like he had a great ass. And… it looked like something to offer in the cock department. The long shoulder length hair, the part down the middle, … and the cute face – fucking adorable. He reminded him of a porn film I had enjoyed in the 80s – a young man like him, a man like him coming out the seas,  then sex in a garden, sucking, fucking, cum. Long hair, blond, great ass, great cock, fucking the man who owned the garden… the garden owner.

I pointed out some bed renovation I had in mind. Bed? Damn, watch your mouth, Bob. And he had the hottest mouth, sweet lips. Then there was deadwood removal from a pile in the back, from a corner that could be a very private one, where men could… where I could… where we could. Not a thought to raise. I pointed out the five small trees that had to come down. And yes, the job would be easier with help. Safer too. Safer. I did not like condoms. I loved bareback. A married cock whore who was now taking all loads.

“Trevor, any of those three interest you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, let’s adjourn to the deck for a drink and see what we can agree on. What would you like, soda, water, wine, beer?”

“Beer would be nice. Thank you.”

“I hope I am not corrupting you. I know you are not yet 21. 19? Right?”

“Yes.”

 I brought the beer out. I brought a bag of chips. It was 4 pm, but I had no reason to watch the clock. I was free to be me for two days. The deck was warm. It captures the sun. In fact, it felt hot.

Trevor had chosen to sit on one of the teak benches. I handed him his beer, pulled up a small table in front of him, put down the chips, and sat next to him. I went in to get a clip board to take notes, if needed. I sat next to him, maybe a foot apart. Did I really think this was safer? Maybe because sitting  across from him would have shown no underwear on. I could have put some on when I went in for the beer. I could have. I didn’t. I would have, if I had been really, really crazy, preferred to come out nude. The yard was safe enough for that. We drank some beer, some chips… “So ,Mr. …”

“Please call me Bob.”

“OK, Bob. What are we talking about?”

Well it was getting him back. “I would love to have you come back.”

“Great.”

“So, How about first the bed renovation?”

A nice how, sweaty project. And dirty. There might be an afterwork shower.

“Then I could use a hand cleaning out that deadwood ahead of a town garden waste removal day.”

And how might that corner work out? I could envision a special shelter for sex.

“And definitely the trees. I ought to be smart and get some help”

“Cool.”

I see five days, spread out to fit your schedule, Trevor, and mine, and, of course, the weather’s. My guess is a minimum of thirty-six yours. And $20 an hour is good with me. And if we took more that thirty-six hours… not a problem. And you should expect not to do the work alone. I am not used to letting others touch my projects. This will be an exception. And it would be the time to pass on any information or experience I have. And I could learn from you. And benefit from experience.”

What experience? I so wanted to find out. But I knew I had to keep my hopes down. Trevor was probably straight. I was, in any case, too old.

“Cool. That would be great. When can we start?”

“Well, tomorrow morning and the next day would be good. The forecast is for sunny and warm. I am free to work all day.”

“9 a.m.?”

“Yes.”

“What I am wearing OK?”

“Sure.” Sure was right… and I wanted to see him with no shirt.

Did he just edge a bit closer?

“By the way, do have other houses to visit? I don’t want to take too much time.”

“No, you are the last stop for today. And I don’t have to get home in time for supper. The parents are away for the week. Pretty much footloose and fancy free.”

“A date later?”

“No, all alone.”

I said, “That is cool. I wish I had that kind of free time. Though the next two days I am home alone.”

“Hey, sounds like a story in there somewhere. I am going to be an American Lit major, and I like to look for the stories in the stories.”

“What in my day was called the ‘deeper, hidden meaning’. What the story is really all about.”

Where was this conversation going? Intellectual. Probably straight. Just a cute, hot, nerd. And maybe that was O.K. With a young man? NO. Stop thinking that way. And it was not for me to make an overt pass. Too dangerous maybe. Though he did like to sit close.

“That’s what my teacher called it. He may be your age. I like the idea of deeper and hidden, the things that are there to be found. but not easily seen. In the last part of the year we looked at stories about people hiding secrets that shaped their lives.”

“Like?” Was this a probing question to see what he thought might be hidden? For sure.

“Well, adultery, bigamy, homosexuality, drug use, being a secret agent – like that Conrad novel. Secrets kept from others, sometimes from oneself. Controlling desires.”

“It would be fun to talk about those one day.”

“Sure. I would like that. It would be nice to have some wort of mentor to talk things through with, experience things with.”

“What sort of things?”

Yes, he was getting closer. His thigh was almost touching mine. I liked that. He still smelled a bit of the morning shower, but with that added scent of a man having been in the sun. Hot, hot, hot.

He did not answer.

“Trevor, your favorite secret, favorite deeper hidden meaning.”

“Well that is personal. Let’s look at calendars and set up things before anything else. OK?”

“Definitely.”

He had his phone in his back pocket. He nudged me while getting it. On purpose? My cock was thinking so. It stirred.  We were seated and my shorts were short. I looked down. His shorts were pretty short too. Was that a bulge?

We set Agreed on tomorrow and the next day, and three to follow. Funny they all were days and times the wife was a work. How did that happen?.

“Those are days you are at home regularly?”

Hardening. The cock has its own mind, even when you are older, even when you could be his grandfather, even if you did not think you were into young men. Did I saw signs of his stirring, and you know young men can stir more.

“Yes. The wife works those days. I got lucky and am retired.”

“Cool. Maybe on other days we can talk literature?”

“Yes.”

I stood up. “Another beer?”

“Sure.”

When I came back, things seemed the same.

“Bob, I am hot.”

He could say that again.  I had told him it was OK to call me Bob. And it is still sunny. And… He just took off his shirt.

“So why talk to me if you generally do not like help?”

Holy crap. Nice, nice, nice. I had not noticed that his nipples seemed, well like something was stimulating them. Had he been touching them while I was getting the beer?

“Your flyer. Hard to resist the opportunity to help a young man with college. Reasonable price. Great graphics.”

“You liked the picture?”

“Sure, it must have gotten you a good response from the women.”

“But you are a man. You liked it.”

“I did. But what about the women. What horny woman would not want a good-looking young man in their backyard, especially with a shirt off? That seemed to get my wife’s attention. And she has not shown a lot of interest in…”

“In?”

Could I answer. No. “Were I a woman, you would be here tomorrow, today if you had stopped by today.”

“You are not a woman. I’m here now. And other women? Sure I got some looks. Some told me they would have liked to work with me, but their husbands said no.”

“How shallow. What they are missing.”

“I was told the long hair was a turn-off, a sign I was not serious.”

“Not serious? The deeper, hidden meaning? Not a problem for me.”

“Will you mind if I work shirtless?” The deeper, hidden meaning?

“Not if you want to. Even at my age, I like to work shirtless back here when I am here and alone. I still like the sun, though in moderation.” Should I tell him how I love to be nude. Damn cock stirring. No. Maybe later. Maybe just show him. Damn.

“Cool. I bet you still look O.K.”

With that I took off my shirt. To do that I had to stand up. My hardening cock popped out for a moment, quickly pushed back under cover. The shirt was off. I stayed standing.

“Hope I look like that when I am your age.”

“Thank you. My guess is that you will.”

“Wow. Most men wouldn’t say that. They would be too embarrassed I would think they were gay.”

“Probably.”

“And Bob, the deeper, hidden meaning?”

“We will get to that. It goes beyond literature.”

I saw down. This time making sure I got close. Why? I was beginning to think…

So, I turned the conversation back to literature. Trevor told me that he always looked in stories by men for hidden homosexual markers. Were Jim and Huck gay? What did I think? I asked him why? Huck was gay curious. And Jim? Maybe he thought he had to yield even though he had family. How about “like in the Illiad, with Patroclus and Achilles. Or Robin and Batman”?

We talked more about what that might mean for a book like Huck Finn book, he said it was as important as the interracial aspect. And what about Huck and Tom?  We talked about how reactions to male friendship had changed over the decades, were just more aware of them now. He brought up Whitman. How hidden was his love for comrades? And did boys and men enjoy their time together with what seemed to him to be an often very sexually charged atmosphere. And did cultural homophobia suppress what otherwise might be normal. I brought up the ancient Greeks, the Romans, though could not resist how Juvenal satirized men who loved boys. Bold stuff for us to be talking about half-nude. At one point, he turned to me a touched my chest to make a point.

“Sorry. I get carried away.”

“No problem. Just be you.”

“Thanks. And you be you.”

Soon it was time for a third beer.

“Am I staying too long?”

“No. When it is time to go, I will let you know.” We have plenty of time. You have to eat. Have supper here.”

“That would be great. This is my best sales call yet.”

“Glad it is.”

I went in for the beer. No thought of putting on underwear. I put on a cock ring. Not as bold as coming out nude. But… no more interest in cock management. I wanted to see what might happen. In my mind, on my knees. His hard cock in my mouth. Where I wanted it.

We talked some more. We never really made it clear what was now hanging in the air between us. No more personal questions. Favorite TV programs. What we were reading.

“This is pretty cool, Bob. I feel so relaxed.”

He turned to me.  He ran a finger over a nipple. I did not stop him. My nipple responded.

“Mine have looked like that since I got here.”

“I saw that. May I” I touched his nipples. “Nice.”

“It is, Bob.”

Incredible.

Awkward me. “So come in and help me pull together supper – some leftover pizza, cole slaw, and some wine. OK?”

“Yes, Bob.” With that he touched my leg and not close to the knee, closer to my cock. I looked and saw his cock peeking out of his shorts. Well, that was all I need to know that something might yet follow, and not just supper.  

We went inside.

I offered. Was this crazy? “She is not back for two days. Just the 9 p.m. call to take.”

“Maybe I will be here. If I am here would be a problem?”

“No, I hope you will be.”

I got to work on supper. Got the plates and wine out. It was nice to be sharing this meal with Trevor. I felt comfortable. He was at ease, not wary, not freaked out to be with me. On the contrary. Hadn’t he been the one to make that contact? And let me touch him?

Our house was not air conditioned. We were good with our being shirtless. Could a man’s chest and nipples be anymore inviting? My first touch was so incredible. Would there be a kiss?

“Bob, I really feel comfortable here. Thanks for asking me to stay for supper. It gets tiresome to be alone evenings.”

“I find it difficult to believe you have to have many alone evenings, Trevor.”

“I do. I’m not quite at the age when I can go to bars. My friends are pretty lame. No girl friend and no interest I one.” No interest? “And my male friends, well they just are jerks, talking about all the pussy they are obviously not getting, wanting to sit in front of their computers watching porn, no interest in things that turn me on, like books.”

“What else?”

“They are just immature. I like older men who can talk about things other than tits and ass, sports. Well, men like you, Bob. Thank you again for having me here. Like having the kind of conversation we have already had. It would be fun to have more.”

“Anything else?”

“Pretty personal question. O.K. Well, well… I hope this won’t shock you. Unlike my friends, I like to be nude. It is not something you just do with others. Maybe no shirts, like us now. But. nude.”

“They stayed dressed when they watch porn?”

“I don’t stay around to watch them watch.  I’ve never just been able to be nude with another guy – shower rooms excepted, but that is not what I mean. I mean nude. Talking, being outside, watching a movie, making a meal, eating a meal. Sure I sleep nude. And when I am home alone, I am nude. And I do things you sometimes do…”

“That is personal. Damn, you sound like me. I amnudist, too often frustrated. I loved nude sunbathing when I was in college. But I did not get what I wanted, to be nude with other people. Open. Just bare ass doing stuff, unashamed. Being nude. But alone. And, I have to admit, sometimes being playful.”

“Nice. Playful?”

”Yeah. With my hard… well, and wanting not to be alone, and well, … Let me invite you to take care of that frustration here.” I dropped my shorts. And…

“Wow.” Trevor stripped. Damn, was this really happening. And maybe he was just a nudist. But had no girl riends. His male friends were lame. And we were nude.

He had the cock of his age. Hard, hard, standing at full attention. 6 inches, nice thickness. Shaved pubes. Like me.

All I could say was, “Let’s get supper. You pour the wine.” 

We sat down to supper. Was this surreal?

“Bob, I hope this is not too weird for you? It is a kind of dream come true for me.”

“Trevor, how is that?” Was there a quaver in my voice? This was a bit weird, no really weird. My sexual encounters had never been like this. No nude meals. No standing around the kitchen nude. Not with women. Not with men. The ones with men had always been quick, intense, dark, dirty – a guy coming in my front hall and fucking me while I was hooded, a fisting session in my cellar playroom – the room almost dark. The closest was a few times when after sex I might try to help a guy with an employment problem. But never a meal. Never nude.

“O.K. May I make a confession?”

“Sure.”

“I don’t think you will be freaked out.”

“Try me.”

“I’m gay.”

Could I say it? Could I tell him I was too?

“Well, Trevor. I am too. Married. On the DL. And…”

He interrupted, “I thought that might be true. I want to have sex with you.”

“With me?”

“Yes, you. I love daddies.”

Shit. This was too intense. I got up from my seat. My cock was erect. I walked to his end of the table. Took his face in my hands. And kissed Trevor. He kissed back. Tongues dancing. Breathless.

“Thank you. Bob…. Oh… thank you…”

We broke apart, refilled our wine glasses, I said… “Bedroom or play area?”

“Hey, how about we get clean? I want to fuck you.”

“Trevor, a good plan.” Wine in hand, wine bottle in hand, we went to the bathroom, the one with the big walk-in shower and the hidden enema hose… Was this really happening. With this young god? Fuck his ass was hot.

I turned on the shower. While we waited for the water to get hot, we kissed. Hands running over each other. I could not resist his ass, then dropping down not kiss his nipples, fighting an almost overwhelming desire to taste his cock. I wanted his cock in me, fucking me. Seeding me. I wanted this, I wanted him. And it seemed like he wanted me. His hands were on my ass. He was probing my hole.

“I want to fuck you, Bob?”

“Yes, please. I want you to breed me.”

“Bareback?”

“Yes, yes, yes…”

The water was hot. We stepped into the shower.

What an incredible experience – soaping the body of this beautiful boy, Running man soap hands up and down his legs, his arms, his ass, his chest, flicking his nipples, then stroking his cock, HIS COCK. Then not being able to resist going my knees, hot water raining down, and taking his cock in my mouth, a little soapy, but, my god, my god, then feeling his hands on my heading, holding it steady while he started to fuck me mouth, fuck my mouth, my mouth… this was happening.

Then he lifted me up, soaped me, touched, caresses, standing behind me, his hard, hard cock in my ass crack, his hands on my cock. Fuck. This was so incredible. His lips on my neck, his whispering my ear, “Let’s finish getting clean so I can fuck you. I want your body, Bob.”

We broke off. Switched on the enema hose I had hooked up – not something that could be at the ready were she at home. I cleaned him. He cleaned me. We were unashamed in our lust. After the last flow from his ass… damn, I just had to eat his hole, taste his hole, I did. No resistance. Trevor was no neophyte to male love making. My tongue. It probed. I sat back on the floor of the shower do he could spread his ass cheeks and press back on my tongue. I was in lust…

A stop to towel off. Then…

“Bob… that was so hot. Fuck. The sling, not the bed, the bed for later.

Sling Time

I quickly set up the play area. The sling. The table with the lubes, with the toys, got out the towels, put down the rubber sheet to catch and fluids, got out the popper and gas mask. I turned down the lights. Turned on the TV, started the porn. Damn if it wasn’t a fisting CD. Maybe I could get up my hopes…

“Sweet area, Daddy.”

“Glad you like it.”

“You ride those toys?”

“Yes.”

“And poppers?”

“Yes.”

“Cool.”

“And the gas mask?”

“For hands-free use… “

“Hot, Daddy.”

“Well, boi, time for me to get in the sling. Is that OK?”

“Yes.”

I go in. I secured my ankles to maximize the spread of my legs.

“Scootch me down so my hole is just there for you baby.”

The lube was at hand. The poppers.

“Condoms?”

“No. Only bareback boi.”

“Really. How hot.”

I asked, “Clean?”

“No clap, or spyh… but…”

“Well, boi, fuck me and breed me.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

We began.

When you are in a sling there is the subtle, constant motion. It is almost impossible to stay still. And you do not want to, except, maybe at the moment when the hard cock in your cunt is just about to explode and fill you with the cum you want and you want all motion to stop so you – the bottom – can, just perhaps, feel your lover’s cock erupt. A lot of people write about, but many of us have every really felt it, really felt what some describe as rope after rope of cum painting the inside of your rectum, hotter than the warmth of your insides? But we do know that feeling when, just at some moment of movement, the head of you lover’s hard cock makes that first separation of your ass lips as it enters you making your ass hole a pussy, that moment when your hole becomes an entrance to lust, joy, fulfillment for you two, two men making an asshole into a pussy, a cunt, in a kind of vagina.

It was like that now. Trevor. His cock. My ass lips. Parting. Him entering, Smoothly, no resistance on my part.

“Damn that was sweet,” I heard him say. “Sweet. No resistance. Shit, the younger guys I have fucked, usually tighter than tight. You. Heaven.”

“Fuck me, boi.”

He did.

We found a rhythm to get lost in. The sling in motion. He is got to the fates of my cunt. Then plunged as deep as it could go. This young beauty was stirring up my guts. I, he, we fucked. Not like there was no tomorrow, but like today would go on and on. We sweated. We fucked. His hands pinched my nipples. They brned with lust. We paused.

“Let me put on my gas mask. I want to be lost in a popper haze while you fuck me.”

“OK”

I charged the mask.

“I see there is an attachment for second mask.”

“Yes.”

“Do you have one?”

“Yes. Over on the table.”

I charged that.

We shared a single canister with a wet paper towel wet with poppers – Amsterdam. Masks on. Sling as steady as it could be. His cock at the opening to my vagina.

“We should each take three deep breathes, then keep breathing. Take it off if it gets to intense, and it might. At least I am lying down. I don’t want you to pass out.”

“OK.”

One, two, three.

The poppers flowed into our lungs. They did their magic. Trevor exploded into action. I felt my hole filled with new lust.

“Fuck me.”

“Yes… damn, hot, fuck, fuck, fuck… I love this.

We were like to men insane with desire, desire that did not want to end. We fucked and fucked and fucked. Then, finally,

“Damn, Bob. I’m cumming.”

He exploded in my cunt. Pulling the mask off then my mask off, Trevor stumbled to the head of the sling, my mouth open, ass-to-mouth. Then we kissed.

“Fuck, Bob. Fuck…”

The phone rang.

Damn. If it wasn’t almost 9 p.m. Time for the Call! It was good that I had a phone in cellar.

“Hello.”

All I will record is my side of the conversation…

“Hi, Honey. Good flight?”

“Good.”

“Quiet here.”

“Remember that young guy? The one you wanted me to hire?”

“We met. What a nice person.”

“Yes, he is as good looking in person.”

“Yes, he is going to do some work around here.”

“We met and looked a good list of things.

“Hot, yes. A nice day here. Cooling off.”

“Just a simple supper. That leftover pizza. It was really good with that wine we had last night.”

“Wish you were here.”

“Yeah, I am on the basement phone. Just getting stuff put away, as always. I like to have it neat and tidy.”

“That noise in the background? I was just shifting a box while we were talking.” Trevor still had his cock in me as I was bending over trying to get my balance.

“Well you sleep well.”

“I will. Love you. Bye.” And with that Trevor started fucking me again.

“That made me so hard, Bob. Damn your cunt is hot. Now, stay in the sling… please… daddy.”

“For sure boi, for sure.”

“Just let me stand for a sec. More poppers.

“OK.

As I stood up to get into the sling, damn, that hot, hot feeling of cum and juices coming out of my ass. Trevor saw some. Scooped it up. Fed it to me.

“Sweet.”

We kissed.

We charged the mask. I climbed back in the sling.

“A question Bob.”

“OK.”

“May I use those dildos on you tonight? I am just so fucking hungry to use your sweet hole. Damn. I have never experienced one so incredibly open and ready. And the popper mask. Shit. Fuck. I want to wreck your hole. Then spend the night in bed with you, waking up again and again to just slip into your cunt.”

“Please do, baby. Please do.”

I paused to reach for a bottle of vodka I had handy. I took five big shots. I wanted this so much. And to know that this was not to be one of the usual quick fucks, or quick fists. Damn.

I lay back. I felt the booze. I put on the mask. I took some hits. I pushed on my hole.

“Damn. A fucking rosebud.”

“Blooming for you Trev… for you… take it. Make it grow.”

“I will.”

He began as I felt an incredible popper rush. And the rush of the vodka. And the wave of total pig desire. And the knowledge that there was no clock. And the reality that there was someone here, gay, hungry…

“Let me know if I am hurting you.”

“I will. Open me. Start with the big dildos. Then keep fucking me. I wat your hard cock fucking me. Open me. I am your pig Daddy.”

“Daddy, yes.”

And he did, one big dildo after another. Opening, Deep, plunging, filling. More poppers. Just a hole, a piece of gay fuck meat in a sling. Where I wanted to be.

“Trevor. Take me over.”

“Yes!”

He did.

Then. He fucked me again.

“I have to nut in your cunt, Bob Daddy.”

He fucked me.

“Damn, I can almost get my balls in your cunt.”

“Do what it takes.”

“And I want to get you to bloom out so I can fuck it back in. I may be young, but Pig Daddy I am your Pig Boi… breeding you, breeding your Pig cunt, raw, bare, hot.”

Damn I was on fire.

He slowed to re-charge the mask, and to get his mask attached.

Then he started the sling rocking like a pendulum. He adjusted my legs so they were spread as wide apart as possible.

“Mask up, Pig.”

I did. Deep breathes. An incredible rush.

Then he started to fist me. Damn if his clenched fist didn’t just seem to enter in.

“Fuck, Daddy Bob. I have never experienced this, never fisted a pig. Damn this is hot.”

“Fist me. When you are ready, try doubling my loose cunt. Punch it in. Wreck me hole. Do it. Do me. Go for it. I am ready.”

The sling rocked. His fists. One. Then the other. Then a pause. BOTH. My ass was stretched to the breaking point. He twisted his fists in. Pulled almost out. Then back in. The all of out. Then back in. Double punching. Then… he took off his mask.

“Oh MY GOD, you are prolapsing out, out. I have to hold it. Kiss it. Taste it.

His lubed hands were on it, on me, his mouth on my prolapse. I pulled off my mask.

His lips on mine so I could taste my cunt, and as he leaned in to kiss me, he put his cock in my hole, pushing my fucking rosebud in. He lay on, breathing hard. I was breathing hard. I could feel his heart beat. Mine beat so strongly. Our bodies were hot. I reached down to touch his ass while his cock was in me. Fuck.

“Can your balls in too?

“I’ll try.” Fuck I can.”

Damn may hole was loose. Never looser.

“Now jerk off in my pussy? I have never been so loose.”

He did. His hand ran under his cock. I could feel his hand move back and forth. Then he exploded. He pulled his hand out of my ass and bought it to me – my cum held in his palm. He shared it, shared the tangy cum and the juices of my ass.

“Damn. Damn. Damn.”

We rested. He sat on the floor. I lay back in the sling. No power to climb out.

“Damn that was good Trevor… damn.. you own my cunt.”

“I do.”

We rested.

After a while we got up. We managed to get upstairs. Managed to make it to the bathroom. Managed to get to bed. Still nude. I lay down on my side. He spooned in behind me. His cock was hard again. It simply slipped into my still gaping cunt. He rocked in.

“I think I am in love… sir.” He laughed. “Bob, Daddy.”

“In love, we’ll have to see.”

We did.

We made gentle love that night. After doing the required yard work the next two days, we fucked and fisted again and again. Was it love? It wasn’t anything I had ever known. And I wanted to keep knowing it. Decision time was on me. Just the next three days of work. Then maybe, if I was lucky, an occasional meeting in the future? Or… DL? What?

She was coming home that night late. We kissed and fucked and fisted and held each other as late as we could. Trevor here when she arrived?

Well, he was.

We were nude. He was fucking her little husband. I moved into Trevor’s apartment that night… not to return while she was there, and then only to get my stuff. The divorce. Uncontested.

Fuck, Trevor.. So much has changed in a year.

 And he had warned me, hadn’t he? He did an does breed me. I took his poz cum that now, and continue take it in my poz as