Hardly a day goes by that I don't miss her. You would think after ten years I would have gotten over the loss of the love of my life. She was taken from me by that insidious disease breast cancer. And at a very young age. She was only 33.
I have become a recluse and distant from family and friends. I spend most of my time in a seedy bar drowning my sorrows. I rarely get a full-on buzz. I mostly sit sipping a glass of whisky and dreaming of better times.
Although I'm a regular, I do not mix with the local crowd. So, I was surprised, when a nice-looking older gent, asked if I minded him joining me. Before I could respond, he settled in to a chair at my table.
"I'm Harvey Moore and I see you here often sitting alone and looking sad. I thought I might join you and cheer you up," he said.
I started to respond, but before I could, he asked, "Can I buy you a drink?"
I have no idea why, but I began spilling out my sad tell of woe to this complete stranger. He sat quietly and listened with a look of concern on his face. After ten years my story was being told and I felt a complete sense of relief. When I finished my babbling, I realized Harvey had his hand on my knee and I was experiencing a raging boner. What was happening to me?
I excused my self and headed to the restroom. I was emptying my bladder in a urinal when I felt a hand on my shoulder and when I turned to see, I was met with a full-on kiss. The gent was turning me around as his lips pressed against mine. As his tongue wedged between my lips, I felt his hand on my cock.
I was being French kissed as he began stroking my hard cock. My mind was in a whirl.
I finally managed to break the kiss and Harvey whispered, "I want to fuck you." I orgasmed spewing cum on the front of Harvey's trousers.