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As I watched my wife motor down the road on the way to spend the afternoon with her mother, I savoured the fact that I didn’t have to accompany her. It was a toss-up as to what was worse, spending time in the car listening to Edna drone on or being trapped in that little house with the two of them with a forced smile on my face.
I had gotten out of it, and as I made a pitcher of ice tea laced with vodka I looked out the window towards our next door neighbour’s house in hopes that my young friend would be out in his backyard swimming like he was on most nice weekend days.
The yard was empty now, but given the way the sun was shining and the heat was rising I had faith that young Pat would soon be out there soaking up the rays under my subtle observation. I had watched Pat grow up next door to us for the last six years and it had been my pleasure, with the enjoyment growing down that Pat was in college.
My only wish was that Pat wore swimming attire like many of that generation did because Pat’s bathing suit was not flattering given the beautiful body it was on. The baggy shorts gave no hint as to what was underneath, but that also let me use my imagination while enjoying the rest of him.
Pat had never gotten very tall, at maybe 5’9″ a couple inches shorter than myself, but his sleek frame didn’t carry an ounce of fat on it, a stark contrast to my own body which had regretfully had filled out very noticeably over the years.
Pat’s hair was strawberry blonde like his mother’s and almost as long, and he always had an impish look about him no matter if he was walking to the school bus or skateboarding past my house.
So sweet looking even now, with those dimpled cheeks still appearing to never have felt a razor despite him being, if not 20 years old then close to it. The lad was destined to be one of those forever young looking guys, like Dick Clark had been, and as I settled into my lounge chair in the shade I waited for my eye candy to appear.
The last time Edna had been out of town a couple weeks ago I had a wonderful time sitting out here watching Pat dive in the pool and climb out, the water making his gradually tanning skin glisten in the sunlight.
The only distraction was the boy’s uncle or grandfather, or whoever he was. It was a guy about my age who often showed up when Pat’s Mom was not at home, and he was definitely not my type because he looked like me, a chubby hairy old fart.
That day I had cum twice, which was more action than my cock had all year in the bedroom, and while I wasn’t very proud of myself, the fact was that it felt so good. The first time was an accident. I had been idly rubbing myself through my shorts with my newspaper over my lap while watching Pat bounce on the diving board when my orgasm just roared up on me.
The second time was not an accident. That time I had my hand working on my stiff stub while watching Pat dry his long locks. His shorts had slipped a bit, showing some pale skin below the beige stomach, and I had noticed for the first time that young Pat had a little hair under his arms, now visible because the water pasted the sparse blonde wisp of fur to his wet skin.
Pat happened to wave at me just as I was cumming and all I could do was nod because I holding my paper in one hand while my other hand was occupied, and that orgasm was even more intense than the first.
I remember wishing I was Pat’s uncle, although the things I was thinking were not those that a real uncle would think about regarding his nephew. Then again, when I was Pat’s age – younger even – I had a grandfather who had taken an interest in me.
That hadn’t damaged me any, and my reaction to his affection should have given me an idea that
maybe I wasn’t as straight as I thought I was. The ensuing few relationships with my own gender also suggested that, but I was too scared to commit. Besides, 1965 was different than now, and 2002 seems way more friendly towards gay people.
Gay people? I’m not gay, I mused as I waited for Pat to come out. I’m just an unhappily married guy who had invested 35 years with a woman who seemed no more excited about me than I was with her. We were a habit. Edna has her bingo and her mother while I have a well-paying job I loathe, and my hobby has become Pat.
So after I waited what seemed like hours of Pat to make his appearance, I went inside to get some more ice to keep the dwindling pitcher cold, having no idea that when I came back out my life as I knew it was going to change.
I had just dumped the bowl of ice cubes in the pitcher, making a mental note to drink a little faster so the concoction didn’t get watery, and had plopped back down unceremoniously into the lounge chair when I heard the clearing of a throat that announced that I was no longer alone.
“Hey Mr. Wilson,” Pat chirped as he approached from the side of the house, his unannounced appearance making me glad I had a strong heart, and as he got closer I wondered what brought on this visit, not that I was complaining about it.
It was just that while we had a cordial relationship with Pat and his mother since becoming neighbours, it was usually just a nod and a hello. After all, what does a married couple in their 60’s have in common with a single mother who was young enough to be their kid and her young boy?
“Pat! You startled me,” I said as I fumbled to grab my sunglasses which had gotten knocked askew by my sitting down.
“Sorry. Guess I just shouldn’t have just come over like this,” Pat said sheepishly and he moved out of the sunlight and closer to me.
“No, that’s fine,” I said, and after he declined my offer to sit with me I added. “I enjoy the company. Edna, she went away for the afternoon.”
“I know,” Pat said as she shuffled his bare feet on my patio, the movement bringing my attention to the golden hair that grew on the insides of his wiry calves. “I saw her go. My Mom won’t be back until late.”
“Oh, I guess your uncle will be coming over to keep you company,” I mentioned, and that made Pat’s face twist up a little before he smiled broadly.
“Mr. Caulfield?” Pat asked, and after I shrugged and said that I just assumed that was who he was I was corrected with a laugh. “No, Mr. Caulfield isn’t my uncle. That’s for sure.”
“Oh, I just assumed…”
“Mr. Caulfield is – or I should say was – a friend,” Pat said and then he added wistfully. “Don’t think Mr. Caulfield will be coming around any more.”
“Do you think it’s weird – me having friends way older than me?” Pat asked, and after I shrugged he explained. “I like people older than me.”
Pat was dressed like he was going swimming, wearing nothing but those baggy khaki shorts that went down to his knees, and he had his thumbs in the belt loops. That made the front of them slide down a little, and that exposed this faint trail of hairs that grew down from below his navel, making me very uncomfortable.
“So, how’s college going?” I said cheerfully, but Pat pretty much dismissed my question and got to the point.
“Want to come over and swim with me?”
“Me? Gee no. Thanks, but I’m not much for swimming,” I declared. “Besides, I haven’t got a bathing suit.”
“You can come in like you are,” Pat suggested, nodding toward my sloppy attire of an old faded tank top and shorts that I had got on a trip to Florida a decade ago, and when I shook my head he added, “Or you can come over and not wear anything at all. It’s okay. The Carter family on the other side went to Maine for the week and there’s nobody else that can see.”
“I couldn’t – I mean – a young fellow like you – it’s different,” I babbled. “I’m not in any kind of shape for that kind of thing at my age.”
“You look fine to me,” Pat declared. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“No, I couldn’t,” I said. “But you go right ahead if you want. I promise I won’t look.”
“What would be the fun of that?” Pat asked. “I like it when you look over at me.”
“Look at you?” I said, trying to add some righteous indignation to my voice while Pat looked over at me and pretty much said with his expression that I shouldn’t bother denying it.
“I have another thing to swim in,” Pat said. “I bought it a while back but Mom – she kinda freaked out when she saw it. Walked into the kitchen wall in fact. And Mr. Caulfield, he didn’t approve at all. He’s kind of a prude, or at least he plays that. You aren’t like that are you Mr. Wilson?”
I was speechless, although I remember trying to say something. My mouth moved but nothing came out, and the idea of a 19 year old kid putting me on my heels – an executive over three times his age – and intimidating me was embarrassing.
“Here, let me show you,” Pat offered, and with a snap of the clasp of his shorts the baggy shorts fell to the patio bricks.
“What do you think?” Pat said as he stepped out of the shorts and stood there calmly as he modeled his bathing suit, or what there was of it.
It wasn’t anything I hadn’t seen before in magazines or on beaches, but this wasn’t some model squeezed into the impossible snug lemon yellow trunks which were something between brief shorts and a banana hammock.
What commanded my attention was not a banana but more like a plantain, and while I had spent many afternoons fantasizing about what was hidden under those baggy shorts none of them included anything like what seemed to be testing the strength of the fabric.
“Uh – well they’re very interesting. I can see why your mother was shocked though,” I managed to say while trying to avert my eyes from Pat’s outrageous bulge.
“Mrs. Wilson seemed to like them,” he mentioned in a matter-of-fact manner. “A couple of weeks ago you were playing golf or something and my Mom was at work. Your wife came over to the fence and asked me if I wanted to come over for a lemonade.”
“She did?” I asked, trying to conceive my cold wife panting over a kid like – well, like I was.
“Yeah, but don’t worry. I told her I didn’t go for that,” Pat said, adding as he stepped closer to me, “I wasn’t talking about the lemonade.”
“Go ahead – touch it,” Pat said as he moved up next to my chair, and when I sat there frozen he reached down and grabbed my wrist and brought my hand up. “You know you want to.”
I shook my head no but made no effort to stop him from bringing my hand to the centre of his trunks, and when he slid my hand over to follow the bulge towards his hip I let him do it.
“Pretty big, huh Mr. Wilson?” Pat said smugly after he let go of my wrist and put his hands on his hips. “You got a big one?”
“No,” I croaked as my hand slid down the spandex on its own, and I could feel the bulge growing and becoming firmer.
“That’s okay. Mr. Caulfield has a little one too. It’s other parts of you that I like,” Pat said as his hand rubbed my back. “Lots of time I would go in a jerk off while looking at you – your hairy legs – and wished you would take over your shirt so I could see those furry man boobs too. You ever do that? Jerk off while looking at me?”
“Yes,” I croaked, amazed that I would admit it.
“Thought so. You want to see my cock? You know you do. Go ahead – pull the trunks down.”
“I can’t,” I almost sobbed, but Pat could, and after he peeled the skin-tight trunks down to his thighs I learned that the bathing suit hadn’t enhanced what he had, if anything it had minimised his manhood.
“My god,” I muttered after Pat revealed a cock that I had only seen the likes of on the Internet, and judging by the way the light beige organ hung downward it was only going to get more impressive
“You like my big dick, don’t you Mr. Wilson?” Pat taunted, as he took his manhood by the absurdly thick stump and wiggled it at me while I sat there frozen in place.
I had never seen anything like it, certainly not in person. Pat’s penis was shaped like a sword, with the base as thick as my wrist, and the fact that he had removed most of what little pubic hair he had made it look even thicker.
Pat’s cock tapered down significantly from there, and at first I thought he was uncircumcised because I saw what looked like part of his glans peeking out, but after he wiggled it I could see that was the entire head of his weapon. The snub-nosed helmet was tiny, at least compared to the rest of his amazing weapon, making it look all the more inhuman.
“You want to suck it don’t you Mr. Wilson? You want to make it even bigger than it is now,” Pat declared, his voice not of the innocent paper boy next door but that of somebody who had something he knew was desired, and I leaned forward and opened my mouth, only to have Pat snatch it away.
“You saw mine,” Pat said as he stepped back from me, his hand now pulling down on his semi-flaccid tool like it was made of rubber.
His sleek body was so tan except for the pale skin from below his navel to just above his knees, and that chalky whiteness only accentuated what had been hidden. I had lost my erection from shock but now it was coming back.
“I want to see you now,” Pat finished. “All of you.”
“Out here?” I said, the thought of even taking my tank-top off back in the secluded back yard making me uncomfortable, much less the rest of me, and besides it was so bright and sunny that every thing that was wrong about me would be revealed.
“Sure,” Pat said.
“I – I don’t look anything like you,” I mumbled.
“I know. Now just stand up and let me see you,” Pat said, and as I shook my head I didn’t no whether that was a no or just a sign I was very confused and stunned at what was happening. “Either that or I gotta go – see if Mr. Caulfield is still filling my voice mail with messages begging me to take him back.”
“Wait!” somebody said loudly, and to my shock it came from my throat. “Can’t we – inside I mean?”
“We will,” Pat said in response to what sounded too close to me begging. “But first I want you naked as I am. Show me. Take the tank top off first.”
As I reached down and pulled the tan-top out from under my shorts, I cursed myself for not going to the gym like I used to. My chunky body with man-boobs bigger than my wife’s had never been trim and toned like Pat’s even in my prime, but now next to him I looked…
“Yeah,” Pat said, his face contorting as he looked at me from the other side of the patio, his hand still working. “Now put your hands up – link your hands behind your neck for me. Yeah!”
I felt like a fool posing there like I was some kind of model, and if anybody appeared from around the side of the house I would have died from shame. Even so I kept my eyes down to the ground
“Oh man – how many times I got myself off over the years looking at you sitting out here like that,” Pat said. “Nothing in the world as sexy as a chubby hairy bear like you. Now drop the shorts. Turn around first so your back is facing me.”
A puppet. That was what I felt like as I found myself doing what Pat asked, and after I turned around and pulled my shorts down I regretted not wearing underwear.
“Oh yeah,” Pat said – growled was more like it – and when he told me to bend over I did, or at least tried, and even spread my legs like he asked.
“Love your ass Mr. Wilson. Hairy too just like I figured,” Pat declared before telling me I could straighten up and turn around.
I damn near fell down when I forgot my shorts were down around my ankles, and I know my eyes were were shut as I tried not to think about how sad I looked like as I played the marionette. Despite how it made me fell, my cock was hard as blue steel.
“Gee Mr. Wilson, your dick is even smaller than Mr. Caulfield’s is,” Pat noted, and when I looked down over my barrel chest and saw my cock standing straight out I realized how unimpressive my uncut brown stub must be to another man and could feel my face turning crimson. “Pretty fat though.”
“Don’t be embarrassed. I like it Mr. Wilson,” Pat continued, and then added. “Can’t you tell how much you turn me on? Look.”
I must not have been able to suppress that gasp that came out of my mouth when I finally opened my eyes, but I know my knees quivered when I saw that Pat’s cock was now fully erect and was swaying in front of me. The meaty monster looked so out of place on this slim body, and the way his cock arched upward slightly made it look even more inhuman, although this curve exposed a pair of balls that looked normal in comparison.
I think I mumbled something as Pat came toward me, holding his cock by the stump as he walked around the chair until he was right in front of me, the tip of his cock waving above mine.
“Put your hands behind your head for me again Mr. Wilson,” Pat said, and after I did I watched him bend his cock down to where it was even with mine.
“Ah!” Pat sighed, and I think I did too when he pushed the head of his cock into my foreskin, almost his entire glans disappearing until the tips of our dicks finally met. “You’re dripping Mr. Wilson.”
“Mr. Caulfield – he liked to call the head of my cock truncated,” Pat explained. “It’s the English teacher in him. I had him in tenth grade and he – well let’s say he taught me a lot. What you do think of my cock?”
“It’s – beautiful,” I gasped as Pat left our cocks docked while his right hand massaged my breasts roughly, digging his fingers into the mostly black felt on my chest and even sliding his hand over to grab a fist-full of my armpit hair and pulling it lightly.
“Bet you like it in the ass don’t you Mr. Wilson?” Pat asked as he came around behind me, wrapping his left arm around my neck as he ground against my back.
“I – not since college,” I admitted as I felt Pat’s right hand reach around to grab my stiff stub in his fist.
“Ever have anybody as big as me?” Pat asked as his fist squeezed my dick.
“God no,” I gasped as I felt his cock pressing against my spine when it was crushed between our bodies.
“Don’t worry, I’ll only use the first six inches or so,” Pat declared as he used his fingers to slide my foreskin up and down, causing me to shake even more than I had been.
“Please,” I whimpered as he kissed my neck and shoulders in between looking down and what his hand was doing.
“You want to cum don’t you Mr. Wilson?” Pat cackled. “Damn, your dick is fat. Can’t get my hand around it.”
“Please,” I almost cried as Pat let go of my cock and shook his wrist violently to get rid of the rope of pre-cum on the back of his hand before grabbing it again.
“Then cum for me,” Pat commanded as his fingers undulated on my throbbing dick. “Make this fat dick cum hard.”
Pat was stronger than he looked because even though I probably outweighed him by perilously close to 100 pounds I was leaning back against him when I came, the intensity of my orgasm making my eyes blurry although when I finally stopped cumming I could see the ropes of cum all over the patio blocks, one sparkling in the sun several feet in front of us.
“You cum good Mr. Wilson,” Pat was saying in my ear in between nibbling, and then he was bringing the hand that had held my dick up and tasted some of the cum on it before putting it to my own mouth. “Not bad huh? Now let’s go inside.”
There had never been anybody in our bedroom besides the two of us, although being told my Pat that my wife had tried to lure him in the house for lemonade and maybe something else made me feel less guilty.
“You got lube Mr. Wilson?” Pat was asking as he followed me in the bedroom, where the unmade bed somehow bothered me for some reason, and that request had me scurrying to the dresser and into the drawer of the night table.
“I want you to suck it first,” Pat said after setting the tubes on bed. “Bet you do too.”
Pat’s hands were on my shoulders, moving me down to my knees, and he even led me through this because he knew how he liked it.
“Here. Now put this hand around here,” Pat instructed as he put my left hand around the muscled stump before grabbing my other hand and putting it next to it like it was a bat. “And the other one here. See? Plenty left for you to suck.”
There was. My lips took in the little gumdrop head and slid down, my mouth parting wider and as I neared my hand, and when my lips hit my hand the tip of his prong was poking my throat.
“Now go up and down,” Pat explained, and as he squeezed some lotion on my hands and the goo went between my fingers he continued. “Now use your hands too. Jerk that cock while you suck. That’s it. Jerk it hard.”
“Oh yeah – suck my big dick Daddy,” Pat declared as he ran his hand through my scalp on his way to squeezing my shoulder, and although I didn’t understand why he called me that it didn’t bother me even though somehow I was the one being treated like the child. “Is it big enough for you Daddy?”
I couldn’t talk obviously but the answer was obvious as my saliva only managed to wet the half of his prodigious manhood that my greased hands were stroking.
“Let’s get you up on the bed,” Pat said as he reached under my arms and helped me get up onto the bed, and as I knee-walked towards the center Pat asked me if I had any rope.
“Next time,” Pat said when I said no. “I like those bedposts. I’d like to tie you to them and put you on your back so I can watch your face when I fuck you. You aren’t going to cry are you? Mr. Caulfield sometimes did when I got carried away.”
“No – don’t know,” I mumbled as I felt Pat’s greased hand between my ass cheeks, and I let out a yelp when he introduced a finger into my anus.
“Oh – you’re tight. I like that,” Pat exclaimed as he pushed another finger into me. “Nothing better than a plump ass and a tight hole, but I’ll loosen that up for you.”
After Pat’s fingers spun around in me for a minute they slipped out, and then Pat was walking around to the other side of the bed, greasing his cock liberally as he looked down on me.
“Been dreaming about this for quite a while,” Pat said as he cast the lotion aside and used both of his fists to slide up and down the shaft of his cock. “Want me to turn the pictures upside down for you? Mr. Caulfield used to.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head after briefly looking at the pictures of Edna and myself on the dresser, taken during better times.
“Okay then,” Pat said as he came back around behind me, and then the bed was moving as he climbed on and moved behind me as I knelt there on all fours, and then Pat leaned over me and squeezed my breasts while hissing in my ear. “Gonna fuck you good and hard Daddy.”
I barely felt it when the tip of Pat’s cock popped into my puckered ring, but as Pat pushed more in that changed. Grabbing my wife’s pillow, I buried my face in the scented pillow case while biting down hard into it and trying not to think about what was happening to my anus as the thicker part was being introduced.
“You like that Daddy?” Pat was asking after he slid back out, and it felt like he was popping the head in and out as he spoke. “You like my big dick in your ass?”
“Yes,” I said because not only was it what Pat wanted to hear, it was the truth, and although I groaned when Pat slid back in, probably a little further that he had been in before. “Please don’t put it all in.”
“Don’t worry Daddy – hardly a half so far and you’re taking it really good,” Pat said as he leaned on top of me, kissing my back and even biting my shoulders lightly. “Love my hairy Daddy. You’re already getting a little damp. Gonna make you really sweat before I’m done.”
“AH!” I cried out when Pat went deeper still, and I could imagine that arching prong poking out my stomach because it sure felt like all of it was in me.
How long was that thing of his? Guys don’t have foot long cocks in real life but not only did Pat look like he had one it felt even longer, but as he began getting into a steady rhythm the discomfort was dulling. Pat’s hands squeezing my nipples was also a sweet mixture of pleasure and pain, and as the bed rocked and the sweat began to fly it was clear that while Pat was little more than a kid he knew what he was doing as he worked his cock deep into my bowels.
Pat had remarkable self-control, continuing to thrust slow and deep even while squirting more lube down there, but after a few more minutes his thrusts became brisker and more urgent. Suddenly he let out a moan as his cock twitched inside of me, and then my ravaged insides felt the soothing warmth of his youthful seed as Pat collapsed onto me where he stayed until after that serpent-like monster eventually slithered out of me.
“I’ve got to go Mr. Wilson,” Pat told me as he got off of me, and as he slapped my ass he added, “You were really good – tight as hell – and I like that. Let me know when your wife takes off again, or maybe we can slip out back at night and I can do you out there.”
“Maybe,” I mumbled as the boy left, and as I rested in the bedding I could feel his seed trickling out of my anus.
The sensation was pleasant, so pleasant that I was soon grinding myself into the sheets while pretending I was fucking Pat like he did me. It was a fantasy because I knew that my dick was too short to do the job but it was nice to dream.
I didn’t get fully hard but close enough so that I came eventually, an orgasm not nearly as intense as Pat’s rough hand had induced for me, and then I closed my eyes to take a nap.
The next thing I knew Edna was yakking away, heading down the hall to the bedroom. A quick check of the clock told me my nap had been of bear-like proportions, and I barely got the sheet over me before the drone got there.
“Sleeping the day away?” she clucked while I feigned dozing, and as she babbled away she complained, “Going to open the windows and air this place out. What do you want for dinner?”
“Anything,” was my reply, and after she left I struggled to get out of bed, my ass feeling like it was on fire, but after the shower refreshed me I was already wondering whether my young friend would be interested in playing outside after dark.