by Wolfe, Sean
“Fuck me,” Mykel begged. “I want to feel you inside me.”
Victor leaned down to kiss his lover, and as he slid his tongue into Mykel’s mouth, he slowly slid his cock into his ass.
Mykel groaned loudly, and every muscle of his body tensed up as Victor’s cock head slid inside. His mouth tightened around Victor’s tongue, and sucked desperately on it.
“Relax, baby,” Victor said as he broke the kiss. He licked Mykel’s neck and nibbled on it, eliciting another deep moan. He smiled as he felt the sphincter muscles relax just a little, and another inch of his cock slid deeper into Mykel’s ass. “Fuck, Mykel, your ass is so hot and tight. I’ve never felt anything like this.” He knew Mykel well enough to know that he’d get off on this kind of talk. “It feels so good wrapped around my big cock.”
Mykel stroked Victor’s back, and his hands moved down to Victor’s ass. He took a cheek in each hand, took a deep breath, and pulled Victor deeper inside him until he was buried deep inside Mykel’s ass. A deep, animalistic groan erupted from Mykel’s throat as he felt Victor’s big dick slide against his prostate. His own cock throbbed uncontrollably across his stomach, and a big drop of precum slid out of the head.
“Fuck me,” he whispered.
Victor tried hard to keep himself from becoming manic. He counted prime numbers in his head to keep from shooting too soon. His brain flipped to auto pilot as his cock slid in and out of Mykel’s ass.
“Harder,” Mykel said, and began tightening his ass and slamming it deeper onto Victor’s cock.
Victor pulled his dick all the way out of Mykel’s ass. He was so close, he needed just a few seconds to calm down. He leaned down and kissed Mykel again, and as he broke the kiss he turned his lover around, and then raised his hips from beneath, so that Mykel was on all fours in front of him.
“Get back inside me and fuck me,” Mykel instructed.
Victor slid his cock deep to the base in one stroke, causing both men to moan loudly in ecstasy. In this position, Mykel’s ass was even tighter and hotter, and Victor was able to slide in just a little deeper. There was no holding back now, and he fucked Mykel like a wild man, slamming into him in long, deep thrusts.
“I’m so close,” Victor gasped as he fucked Mykel’s ass fast and hard.
“Slow down,” Mykel said.
“It’s too late.”
Mykel dropped to his stomach, causing Victor’s cock to slide out of his ass.
“Here I cum,” Victor moaned, and a second later his load began to spew from his cock. It flew everywhere ... across Mykel’s back, onto his ass and upper legs, onto the bed beside them. It seemed to go on forever. When it finally stopped, he dropped limply on top of Mykel’s body. “Are you gonna cum?” he asked between labored breaths.
“Are you kidding me?” Mykel asked. “I blew my load the second you put me on all fours. Your cock slid into my ass in one long, sweet move, and I shot all over the bed.”
“You did?”
Mykel laughed, and pointed at the puddle beneath him and all around them.
“I can’t tell which is yours and which is mine,” Victor grinned as he looked at the cum-soaked bedspread.
“Doesn’t really matter,” Mykel said. “It’s all ours, and that’s the way I want it to be from now on.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. I want us to be ‘us’ from now on. I want you here with me ... or me with you. I don’t care which, as long as we’re together.”
“What about your work?”
“I’m done. I was only doing it as an escape mechanism anyway. To hide from the truth.”
“The truth?”
“That I love you. That I want you. That I need you.”
“I love you, too, Mykel. Are you sure you can give it all up just like that?”
“In a heartbeat. It’s all in the past, starting right now. My present and my future are with you. If you’ll have me, that is.”
“I’ll definitely have you. You know that was never a question.”
“I know, and I’m sorry I was so stupid. So afraid.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’re all entitled to a little stupidity.”
Mykel laughed and hugged Victor close to him. “Wanna take a trip somewhere?”
“Where?”
“I don’t care. Anywhere. I just wanna get out of this town for a little bit. Go somewhere where no one knows me, and where no one can get ahold of me. I just want to spend some time with you alone.”
“It’s gonna be hard to find somewhere that no one knows you.”
“Shut up!” Mykel laughed and hit Victor with his pillow.
“But I hear Japan is nice.”
Mykel had a couple of clients in Tokyo, but thought it better not to mention them to Victor. Besides, he hadn’t heard from either of them in over a year.
“Done!” he said. “First class to Tokyo this weekend.”
“What about my job?”
“Quit your job. You won’t be needing it anymore. When we get back from our trip, you can go back to school and finish your degree. Then you can get the job you really want. You don’t have to settle anymore. Not for love or a job or anything else.”
The grin on Victor’s face was priceless, and Mykel kissed his head as he pulled him to rest his face on Mykel’s chest. A couple of minutes later, Victor was snoring softly, and only then did Mykel allow the couple of tears that had been welled up inside him to fall down his cheeks.
Crying wasn’t as horrible as he’d thought it would be, he decided, and drifted off to sleep entangled with Victor’s body.
WINTER
Okay, now don’t hate the messenger. I have to be consistent and give the definition of this word from Dictionary.com just as I have with all the other seasons. So here it is:
1. The usually coldest season of the year, occurring between autumn and spring, extending in the Northern Hemisphere from the winter solstice to the vernal equinox, and popularly considered to be constituted by December, January, and February.
2. A year as expressed through the recurrence of the winter season.
3. A period of time characterized by coldness, misery, barrenness, or death.
Personally I hate Winter. It’s cold and I miss the heat of summer. It snows, and I miss strolling along the beach. The days are shorter, and I get depressed when it’s dark at five o’clock. So I just don’t like the winter months.
Thankfully, we’re not looking at winter as a period of the coldest three months of the year. In this book we’re viewing winter as the time in our lives when we’ve lived a long time and had many experiences that, for good or bad, have influenced us and molded us into who we are. The men in these stories are in the age range of fifty to ninety-three years old.
With that much experience and that many years behind us, we can’t help having a unique perspective on life. Love doesn’t necessarily mean the same thing it did when we were twenty or thirty and green under the collar. Romance looks a whole lot different now. Sex is often a memory or a dream at this point ... but not always. And intimacy is much more important than any of the other things I’ve just touched on. Or so younger gay men, tend to—or have been taught to—believe.
But we can be so wrong. In talking with some gay men of this age group, I found some very interesting things. The last definition given above of winter was “A period of time characterized by coldness, misery, barrenness, or death.” I was a little shocked when I spoke with some men of that older generation and they didn’t totally disagree with the definition. I thought they’d be furious. But they told me they often have found themselves being cold, and miserable and lonely. And the older the men were, the more they thought about and focused on death. It’s natural.
But I also found out they believe they feel this way because they’ve been taught all of their life that they are supposed to feel this at this age. Many cultures teach their young to respect their elders. In some, older people are revered and celebrated and honore
d. But in American culture, we have a long ways to go before we can come anywhere near that kind of attitude and honor for our senior citizens. Especially in the gay male culture or community, older men are very often forgotten completely, or even worse, pitied. Again, I’m not lumping the entire gay male community into a pot and saying we all feel that way or treat people that way. But we’d be lying if we denied it was a prominent sentiment and way of life for a majority of our community.
What I learned is that life doesn’t stop at age fifty, or sixty, or even eighty. Men of this age still feel very much alive. They laugh, they cry, they dance ... and they have sex. To them, their sex is every bit as hot as that of twenty-year-olds. The difference, I am told proudly, is that everything means so much more to them than to the younger generation. Physical beauty is relative. Beauty to these men is often found in their partner’s laughter or his experience or his kindness. Gray hair and a few wrinkles here and there can be a turn-on. Intimacy and companionship are much more important than getting fucked every night of the week.
As I said, life doesn’t stop at this season, and neither does sex. Often the sex is even better, because the men have to be a little more creative, and a lot more tender with one another. Views on sex and beauty and intimacy change as we get older, as does our perspective on nearly everything.
We can learn a lot from men in their winter season, and I hope the men I’ve created in this section of the book are real and alive and able to teach us a thing or two about love—and about life.
Walter’s Phoenix
“ It’s all bullshit, every last word and picture of it,” Walter spat out at no one in particular. He wiped the trail of spittle from his chin. “Bullshit!”
“Walter,” Jeremy scolded, “we’ve had this discussion before. You simply cannot throw these tantrums and tirades at every session. It makes it uncomfortable for everyone else in the group.”
Jeremy was fifty years Walter’s junior, and Walter hated nothing more than to be reprimanded by him or told what to do or how to act. At seventy-five years old, Walter had lived a full life, and understood it. What did this punk know about real life? And what the hell was he doing facilitating a group called “The Excitement of a Fulfilled Gay Life”? How could he know anything at all about a fulfilled life of any kind? He was barely out of diapers.
“I’m sorry,” Walter said, not meaning a word of it. “But that movie is pure nonsense.”
“I loved it,” Christopher said. He was a freshman in college. “I think it’s a wonderful representation of gay life in the twenty-first century. This is how it works today.”
“It’s that easy?” Walter asked. “You walk down the street and see a cute boy, you stop and talk with him for less than five minutes, and then you go home and have sex with him?”
“Yes,” several members of the group chimed in at once.
“I’ve never seen it happen,” Walter said defiantly.
“How often do you walk Santa Monica Boulevard in the middle of the day?” Christopher asked.
“I don’t. I live more than a mile from that area.”
“So do I,” another member said, “but I make a point of cruising the Boulevard almost every day, and I get laid almost every day.”
Walter wrinkled his nose, waved his arm dismissingly at the young man, and crossed his arms as he looked away.
“I sense you’re a little anxious about this movie and the discussion, Walter,” Jeremy said. “What exactly bothers you about it?”
Walter thought about the question for a moment before answering. “It’s too easy. You kids, all of you here in this group, take it all for granted. You just walk up to some guy, whip out your dick, get off, and then move on. There’s no thought of consequences or the possibility of something more. And there’s no appreciation of the fight that us older gay men fought to get you to this place. Had I known the fight would have led to something like this, I wouldn’t have bothered.”
“Oh great, here we go again,” Christopher said. “In my day we had to walk a mile to school in the snow with no shoes.”
This drew laughter from the crowd, and that was enough to get Walter on his feet and reaching for his coat.
“Please, Walter, don’t leave,” Jeremy said. “No one here means to be disrespectful. We just have some different dynamics and perspectives here that lead to some meaningful conversation.”
“I’m tired. I want to go home.”
“Will you be back next week?”
“I don’t know.” Walter slipped his coat on.
“Can I ask you one more question?”
“What?” He said tiredly as he exhaled loudly.
“Have you ever been in love, Walter?”
Walter looked at the younger man leading the group, and then around the room at the other dozen or so young men watching him with varied expressions of boredom. Then he buttoned his coat and walked out the door.
“I’m not sure we should be doing this,” Robert said. “What if the captain comes in?
“Relax,” Walter said. “He’s taking a nap. It’s like clockwork. He’ll be by in an hour and fifteen minutes. That gives us plenty of time.”
He leaned in and kissed Robert as he unbuttoned the younger man’s shirt. Robert had just turned twenty-one two weeks ago, a month after the ship had set out for the South Pacific. Walter had been infatuated with him from the moment he laid eyes on the boy. Not that Walter was that much older than the kid. He was only twenty-five himself. But Robert was fresh off the farm in a small Nebraska town and as naïve as anyone Walter had met. Walter was from Seattle, and was a little wiser in the ways of the world. Young enough to be adventurous and seek out a little private fun every now and then, but wise enough not to get caught.
It turned out Robert was much more hungry for sex than Walter had imagined. He ripped his clothes off in seconds and dropped to his knees in front of Walter’s crotch. He unbuttoned Walter’s pants and pulled them to his knees. Then he reached inside Walter’s shorts and pulled out his cock.
Up to this point, Walter was sure the kid had never sucked a cock in his life. Maybe never even seen one other than his own. But now he was convinced otherwise. Robert lapped at the heavy cock for about a minute, and had it fully hard and throbbing. When it stood at full attention, Robert sucked the head into his mouth then slowly swallowed Walter’s dick until it was buried deep in his throat.
“Holy shit, man,” Walter whispered as he gasped. “Where the hell did you learn that?”
“Neighbor kid back home and I used to fool around a little. You like?”
“Fuck yeah, I like,” Walter said. “Suck it some more.”
Robert sucked Walter’s cock for several minutes, and much to his surprise, Walter found himself getting close. He’d never been able to cum from a blowjob.
“You better stop, kid. I’m getting close.”
Instead of stopping, Robert wrapped his hand around Walter’s balls and squeezed them gently as he sucked harder on the fat cock.
“Robert?” Walter asked, quickly running out of breath.
Robert looked up and winked at Walter as he swallowed more of the cock and squeezed it with his throat muscles.
Walter grabbed Robert by the shoulders and moaned loudly as he poured his jizz down Robert’s throat. It seemed to go on forever, and by the time he finished, his knees buckled and he slumped to the floor, pulling his cock from Robert’s throat.
Robert lay down next to Walter, and leaned up to kiss him on the mouth. Walter could still taste his own cum on Robert’s tongue, and that made his cock stir again, even though it had just been spent.
Robert and Walter fell in love immediately and spent every moment they could together for the next two years. It would have lasted forever, had Robert not been killed in action right in front of Walter’s eyes.
Walter woke up with tears on his cheeks and a lump in his throat. He hadn’t dreamed about Robert in several years. Goddamn Jeremy for asking if he’d ever been in
love. What fucking business was it of his anyway?
But Walter noticed a strange tingling in his cock. It almost felt hard, and he anxiously pulled at the elastic waistband of his sweats to check it out. No such luck. It just lay there against his leg, as flaccid as it had been for the past five years. It seemed a little plumper than usual, but Walter figured that was more wishful thinking than anything else. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had an erection, and even less what it felt like to have one.
He lay on the sofa for a few more moments, then took a deep breath and forced himself up and into the kitchen. He was hungry, but had ordered pizza the night before and it hadn’t agreed with him. Chinese food agreed with him even less, so he found himself in a dilemma. He hadn’t cooked in over ten years. There wasn’t much of a chance there was anything in the pantry, but he opened it and looked anyway. An expired box of cereal, half a box of stale crackers and two scoops of Skippy peanut butter. Not much promise there.
So he could either go out for dinner or starve to death. If he were completely honest with himself, he’d admit the latter sounded more appealing. But he was stubborn and never took the easy way out with anything.
He slowly went about his routine of getting dressed. First he put on his socks, and walked around the room twice to make sure they didn’t slide down his skinny calves. Then he slipped on a pair of boxers and headed to the closet. He decided on a pair of brown slacks and plaid shirt. Then he put on his favorite blue bow tie and fedora.
His favorite restaurant was only three blocks away, so he walked to the Patriot Buffet and sat at his regular table. He was right in the middle of enjoying his roast beef with mashed potatoes and steamed carrots when someone came up to him and addressed him by name. Walter was not pleased with interruptions, and at first didn’t look up from his plate.