Last year, one of the many feedback e-mails I received for my story, "CURIOUS" was from Richard R. a 70 year old man living on the west coast. After several exchanges, he suggested that we contribute alternate segments of a story about two older men who meet in a motel bar.
The project went beautifully until the day, I lost all contact (no reply) with Richard. After nearly a year, I have edited what we had and added the last six segments on my own.
80niner
MOTEL
RICHARD:
I sat at the motel bar enjoying a martini. I wore a suit and tie. I had been through the first day of meetings on personal business. I hoped I to be finished in the next two days and go home. The weather had been hot and humid but the air conditioned bar was finally cooling me off. The bar area was fairly crowded with local business men and what looked like mostly tourists or travelers passing through.
Looking around, I saw that most of the patrons were in their 30's and 40's and of no interest to me. Like most bars, this one was mirrored so I could watch the scene behind me without turning. I asked the bartender for the names of some good restaurants and killed time before going to dinner. Out of the corner of my eye I saw an older man enter and look around. The only vacant stool was next to me. I shifted my body a to make room in case he was there for a drink. My attention returned to the game on the TV.
CLARK:
I saw the only empty seat at the bar and the oldest man in the place move over slightly to make room which I took as an invitation to come sit. I brushed against him as I slipped onto the stool. I apologized and he shrugged it off. I ordered a Heiniken.
I sipped the cold brew from the bottle and waved away the glass mug. "Always tastes better from the bottle." I said to the older man on my right.
He sipped his martini. "Just passing through?"
I nodded. "A much younger crowd here than I would have expected in a motel bar."
"I'd say we're the oldest guys in the place."
"And I've got some age on you."
"Oh I don't know. I was 70 last month."
"Hell! I was 70 ten years ago."
"You don't look it."
"Don't feel it either." I finished my beer and nodded to the bartender for another for another.
The man extended his hand. "Name's Richard."
I took it and felt a strong but not crushing grip. "I'm Clark."
He shook his head in disbelief. "So you're 80 years old. Everything still working?"
I smiled and put my hand on his shoulder. "Was the last time I pulled it out."
RICHARD:
That made me smile. "Good for you, Im impressed. I hope I can say that in ten years". In my mind I suddenly saw this old man with his cock in his hand having himself a jerk. Does he do it as often as me? Does it feel as good when you're 80? Have he ever, like me, thought of trying someone else's cock. No, I thought, that's just me.
"This hot humid weather makes an old fellow feel horny," I said. "Unfortunately, most women our age all seem to be dried up, It's enough to make a man wanna switch to boys".
My remark was meant innocently but I wondered if the would pick up on it. Probably not. I mean, what are the chances of meeting someone in a bar to help you live out a lifelong fantasy. I felt a stirring in my dick. I decided I should change the subject fast before he ups and calls me a fag.
"Let me have another," I said as the bartender walked by.
I moved on my stool and my leg touched the old guys knee. instinctively I pulled it back. "You staying here?" I asked.
Without waiting for an answer I said," I got a list of restaurants from the bartender. I'm trying to decide where to have dinner. Problem is, I've been in this suit all day. It would feel good to change into something casual. If you wait till I go to my room and change, we can keep each other company". I tried to force all thoughts of what his dick and balls looked like from my mind.
CLARK:
I had picked up on Richard's, "It's enough to make you want to shift to boys," remark but I tried not to give myself away. After all, that was forbidden territory though recently I had been picking up on men's cocks on the internet more than normal. I found myself wondering more and more how a hard cock would feel and taste. I wondered about Richard's dick. How big? Did it still get hard at his age. Would he cum a lot. I couldn't ignore tingling in my groin.
What the hell, I thought, after tonight, you'll never see the guy again. Since I had already changed, and Richard wanted to get into something more comfortable before we left to find something to eat. I suggested that I accompany him to his room with him while he changed. "It will save time," I argued.
Richard finished his drink and placed his empty glass on the bar. His knee brushed my thigh as he spun his ass on his stool. I felt the pressure and my 80 year old cock thickened. "Good thinking," he breathed. "Let's go."
When I turned and slipped off the stool I'll swear, though it may have been an accident, he accidentally bumped into me from behind. I could have sworn I felt something hard in his pants. I hoped it was his cock.
FYI
(Before I go any further I think I should say something about myself. As I said I am 80 years young. I stand six feet one inch tall and I weigh a shade over two hundred pounds stripped. I have a modest gut that I try to keep pulled in. I have brown hair, gray eyes, and a nicely trimmed white beard. I have been told thatI'm not too bad looking.)
C
RICHARD:
I needed to drain that drink. The idea of a man agreeing to come to my room had me flustered. How would I let him know I wanted to see him naked, look at his cock and balls, touch him, perhaps suck him? No, I couldn't do that. Not tonight. I wasn't ready for that. Better I jerk off when I read stories, look at naked men, dream only.
The instant it took for those thoughts to race through my mind made me hard. I got off the stool and my stiff dick brushed his ass. Damn, was that me? Was I horny for that big handsome man? What should I do next? Desire mixed with fear filled my mind as we rode the elevator to the 4th floor. The walk to my room was pure torture. I was afraid to get to get too close to him. My hand shook as I fumbled for the security card.
We walked in the room and I closed the door. "Why don't you get us a couple of beers from the room cooler?" I removed my jacket and tie and put them on the hanger. I opened my shirt and wondered if you were looking at me. I kicked off my shoes. The pants came off and I folded them over the back of the chair. With my black bikini underwear showing more than I should I walked to my suitcase, opened it and removed a clean sport shirt. My dildo and KY jelly were clearly exposed but I don't want to draw attention to them. I dropped the shirt over them and said, "I think I better take a leak." I entered the bathroom. I pulled the bikinis down my thighs and pissed into the bowl.
I wondered if you'd been watching, if you knew what I felt, what I really wanted. I love holding my half hard cock in my hand. I love hearing the strong stream of piss splash the water in the toilet bowl. I wondered what your cock would look like standing across from me. I shake off the last drop. I turn to walk out of the bathroom starting to tug at my briefs.
FYI
(You sound like a big beautiful man. I'm 5' 7", 160 lbs., have a bit of a belly, clean shaven, gray on top, not too much body hair. Was at one time a nice thick seven inches which has lost about an inch in the last few years, still get hard and have a one spurt cum and then ooze.)