I'm 21 and I've had a relationship with a former coworker for about 2 years. His name is Martin and he is now 62.
When we met, we became quick friends. He is a fatherly/grandfatherly type, that I didnt have growing up, who took
me under his wing and showed me the ropes around the job site.
When I made mistakes he never got angry, he simply showed me where my mistake was and how to do the task properly. Sometimes it was in the form of a stern lecture or a
"timeout" as he called it so that I could "get my dam head straight"
before moving on to the next job. Haha...
After several months we became pretty familiar with each other. I was barely 20 at the time, had
gone to community college after high school, still lived at home with my mom and this was my first
job. He in turn, had worked for our current employer for almost 40 years and was soon to retire. Martin had been married once with
a son that was now in his mid 30's but had gotten divorced shortly after he was born. He has lived alone since but enjoys having friends and neighbors over to watch sports and backyard barbecues.
At the time I hadn't really come to terms with my sexual
orientation. I was still a virgin and to be honest, I think I suspected from the beginning that Martin was gay but never said anything.
Martin lived fairly close to the job site so it was a easy commute to his home. We started hanging out after work at his house a few times a week. He would fire up his grill and throw steaks or burgers on and invite others over. Even
though I wasn't 21 yet he would hand me beers when passing them around to others. I would drink a few but not enough to impair me from driving the hour commute back to my moms house. He had interesting friends and neighbors.
The gatherings were fairly intergenerational although i was still always the youngest to attend.
Martin has an older but well cared for home. It's no mansion but it has 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms.
One bedroom is a playroom for when his grandchildren come over and the others are his and a guest room. It's a nice place.
One Friday morning Martin came to work and told me that he wanted to have an impromptu birthday
barbecue for his son after work and asked for my help with the set up and cooking. Of course I agreed. No big deal.
It was a fairly large gathering. I met his son and his wife and Martins two grandsons. Nice
people. But I sensed an awkwardness that at the time I couldn't figure out.
After everyone had left and we had cleaned up, it was late and I had a few beers but figured I was fine to drive. Martin wouldn't have it
and besides there was still more beer to drink and he has a guest room.
To be honest, I dont really recall how it started. I dont even really recall the details of our conversation. It was probably a
combination of alcohol and tiredness, Martin returned from a bathroom trip and sat next to me on the couch rather than returning to his recliner. With only a slight drunken slur, he said that the reason he got divorced and
that he lived alone was that he was gay. He told me that he wanted to do something and that if I didnt want or like it that I only needed to tell him no. With that he unbuttoned my pants and slid them down to my knees, took my
penis into his mouth and started to give me my first ever blow job!
Oh my god did it feel good!
He would run his mouth up and down and then swirl his tongue around the head of my erection and from time to time pull off and ask me
if I was ok and liked what he was doing. I could only nod and he would continue. It didnt take long before I orgasmed and squirted semen into his mouth. He opened up his mouth and showed me my cum then swallowed it and chased it
down with a swig of beer.
What the fuck was I doing??
I was on an emotional roller coaster! An older man had just performed oral sex on me and I loved it. I was having an emotional crisis coming to terms
that I was most definitely gay!
That's when Martin told me
something that has been an understanding in our relationship all along. Respect is important, if I dont like what's going on at anytime I can say so and whatever
happens is nobody's business but ours. I felt at ease.
He invited me to his bedroom. He took my hand in his and helped me to my feet. I could stay with him that night or in the guest room. I stepped out of my pants and
underwear that were around my ankles and he led me by my hand to his bed.
I laid back on his king sized bed and he returned his mouth to my now hard penis. After again cumming in his mouth he coached me
to grip his cock. Never had I given a blow job or a hand job to another man. I stroked him and he became semi-aroused but not hard. He placed his hand on my head and guided my mouth to the tip of his penis. He could clearly tell I had
no experience so he talked me through it telling me what felt good and what didnt. I tried to mimic what he had just done with me but he still didn't seem to be getting as hard as I thought he should. I thought I was doing it
wrong. He said I was doing fine and pressed my head back down over penis and I took it back in my mouth. As I sucked on him he softly spoke to me telling me that he had developed E.D some years ago and most times couldn't achieve a productive erection, only this semi-stiff member without Viagra.
He worked my head up and down all the while assuring me that it felt really good and that even though he was semi-stiff he was close to
cumming. When he came I took his load in my mouth, it didnt taste bad... but man, the slimey texture made me gag a little! Martin chuckled a little and said "be a good boy and swallow." I spit it out onto his stomach.
It's taken me lots of time and many blowjobs to get used to the texture but I have. Drinking beer or being flat out inebriated helps. Haha!
I ended up not just spending the night with him but the whole weekend. I called my mom and told
her that we decided to pick up some overtime Saturday and Sunday (a lie) and that I wouldnt be home
until Monday after work.
We spent the weekend hanging out watching movies and grilling in his backyard and exchanging hand and blow jobs. Martin introduced me to anal play when he slipped a lubricated finger into my anus while performing oral on me. He worked his finger in a "come hither" motion massaging my prostate as I dumped my load into his mouth!
It was fucking amazing and I had him do it multiple times over the weekend.
He asked me to top him. He yearned for me to penetrate him. He wanted my virginity.
I was hesitant. This was too much, too fast but he talked to me about it. In that fatherly tone I heard so often at work he spoke reassuringly. He calmed my nerves as he stroked me to an erection and rolled a condom on. Encouraged my ego as he lubricated me and his anus and then lowered himself onto my cock. He winced as it slipped past his sphincter muscle. He rode me for a bit and then rolled us over and repositioned himself under me and held onto his knees. I was on the verge... "dont cum yet, young man".
That was enough to set me off. I shot my load into the condom.
That's how I lost my virginity.
I remember the overwhelmed feeling hitting back.
I had just topped a man 3 times my age.
I fucked him again a few hours later. This time from behind and lasting way longer than before.
I would have gone a third time that day but Martin admitted that it had been a long time since he last bottomed and he "was out of
practice".
In the weeks that followed we would meet up at his house after work for sex. It wasnt penetrative sex everytime we were together but most. If not with my cock then with an assortment of anal plugs and dildos Martin owned. I even got to the point I could take a plug. It felt good but I still hadn't bottomed for him and up to that point he hadn't asked.
On his birthday I told him that I wanted him inside of me. I wanted to bottom for him. It was after work at his house I got into the shower and cleaned myself out. I had never done that before! Apparently, if you are going to bottom it's a good idea to use an enema. Who knew??
As I walked out of the bathroom i tossed my towel in the hamper and joined Martin in bed. He had taken his Viagra and had already been working his erection. He had me lay on my stomach with my hips propped up with pillows. He got behind me and lubed us both up. After fingering and plugging me for awhile he position his penis in my crack and applied pressure. I asked him about a condom but he told me he wanted to claim me. Thia made me a little nervous. After several attempts and more lube he slipped into me and I felt his whole body shutter.
I dont care what people say! Even with a highly experienced top, the first time is at least uncomfortable or at worst toe curling pain!
At times it was both.
Martin lowered himself on top of me and spoke into my ear. I was so tight. Did I like it?
"I'll slow down."
At one point I didnt think I could handle it anymore. I told him to stop for a moment but he continued to thrust into me. When tears ran down my cheeks he wiped them with the bedsheets and told me to "hang in there, I'm almost done!"
He grunted several times and quickly bounced his hips off of my buttocks.
With a series of hard hip thrusts I cried and he forced my face into the pillow while shushing me and saying "take me into you, dont resist!"
He yelled and orgasmed and dumped his load into my anal orifice.
He got off of me and wiped my ass with a warm wet cloth. There was blood and poop on it.
That was my first bottom and how I lost my "anal virginity" so to speak.
I top most of the time but if Martin begs enough I will occasionally bottom. I just haven't gotten to a point that I enjoy it.








Comments

Anonymous

by Anonymous on May 14, 2020 at 2:55 PM

I have a young neighbor boy that is 23. He still lives with his parents. I know for a fact he is gay because I saw him kissing another guy one evening.
I'm 56 and live alone and had only had heterosexual relationships but within the last couple of years I have been thinking about gay sex and I want to try it with a young twentysomething.
I have fantasies about sucking and ass fucking the gay neighbor boy but can't seem to lure him in. He comes over for visits and o feed him as much beer as he can handle in the hope that if he's gets drunk enough I can get his pants off of him. The closest I've come so far is rub his shoulders from behind when he had 4 or 5 beers and was complaining about a stiff neck. After a minute or two he said he had to go home. Darn!
Oh well, maybe next time.

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