Mr. Och

Here's my set-up: my name is Caleb, and at the time of this story, I was just 18 years old, a few months out of high school, waiting for the first semester of university to start in a few weeks. I was the recipient of a partial track & field scholarship at my soon-to-be university and I had the body to match: young and lithe and toned and healthy. People who have seen pictures of me from that time in my life say that I looked like a young Chris Evans with dirty blonde hair. I had already moved from my house to a ridiculously small apartment near my university. In the three weeks I had before university started, I spent my time running around the park and familiarizing myself with my new surroundings.

I was running intervals in the park before lunch on a Saturday the first time I saw Mr. Koch. He stood out from among the other walkers, runners, bicyclists, and dog-walkers for two reasons. The first reason was he was movie-star level good looking, drawing looks from a couple of women chatting on benches in the park. He closely resembled Luca Argentero. (If you like your men hot, Italian, and silver-daddy-ish, then it doesn't get better. Take a second a look him up. It's worth your time. This story will be here waiting for you when you get back.) The second reason was his attire: it looked really weird to me. He was running along the same ovoid path around the park that I was, and I had lapped him several times already during my interval sprints already. He was running too, but he wasn't wearing anything like I or the other runners in the park were wearing. I was just in running shoes, running shorts, and a breathable running shirt. He was in some kind of skin tight form-revealing one-piece with a zipper in the middle of his chest and stomach that covered his muscular biceps and stretched all the way down to his knees, doing a great job of outlining his tight ass along the way.

I was so surprised at his form-fitting outfit that I mustered the courage to call out to him.

"Hey!" I screamed, running up behind him again.

He turned his head to look at me, making eye contact, and slowed down to let me catch up with him. His one-day unshaven scruff was flecked with grey. His hair was peppered through with silver at odd intervals. His amazingly avuncular and handsome face smiled welcomingly to me, waiting for me to say something.

"Sorry to bother you," I said, making sure my preamble was polite.

He just titled his head slightly and waited for me to continue. We were now jogging next to each other.

"Can I ask what you're wearing? I've never seen that before," I asked him, one of my fingers pointing at what I thought was maybe some kind of running leotard.

"Oh this? This is a triathlon suit," he replied, smiling widely, slightly pulling on the collar of his triathlon suit and then letting it go. The fabric snapped back to reveal his muscled chest again below the form fitting textile.

"Oh," I said. I knew what the triathlon was but I didn't know it had its own sportswear associated with it.

"You new here? I haven't seen you running around the park before," he asked me, still smiling his smile, his voice a friendly singsong of contagious excitement.

"Yeah, I moved here just last week," I answered, myself breaking into a smile as well.

"Oh, so you just got here! Let me welcome you then! I'm Emmanuel Koch. You can call me Mr. Koch," he said.

"Your name is Mr. Cock?" I parroted right back a lot louder than necessary, genuinely surprised that someone with that last name survived alive through elementary school, much less to adulthood.

"K. O. C. H," he retorted immediately, slowly enunciating each letter.

"Oh. Sorry," I said.

"You were thinking it was something else, weren't you?" he questioned playfully, a wide smile spreading across his lips, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth.

He finally slowed to a stop and turned to face me. I stopped right in front of him. Wow, he's tall was the first thing I thought.

"No. No, of course not," I said, rolling my eyes playfully, giggling a little.

"Oh it's okay. No reason to be embarrassed. A lot of the young guys that I tend to meet are interested in my last name," he stated, still smiling, joking through my lack of homophonous imagination.

I laughed at his joke, not really thinking through the implications of it at first. But then I started to wonder was this guy hitting on me? He was twice my age at least. He could be as old as my dad. And sure, he was very good looking but I wasn't into men.

"Oh. Oh. I'm not. Yeah, I'm not," I mustered a lame response to his previous innuendo.

"Ah oh well. My mistake," Mr. Koch said, smiling again, extending his hand to shake mine.

"No. Sorry. It's just...I'm not interested...in your last name," I said as I took his hand to shake, my face now flushed with red embarrassment.

He had a strong grip. My eyes darted to his arm. I noticed his biceps. They were large. They were outlined by the triathlon suit. Mr. Koch must work out a lot, and not just on the muscle groups required by the triathlon.

We stood there shaking hands for a lot longer than was socially acceptable. I started to smile embarrassingly. I was even shivering a little even though it was a warm day for reasons that I didn't yet intuit. He just continued to look at me, smiling.

"How about I change subjects?" he asked, giggling, clearly enjoying the predicament that his phrasing put me in.

"Oh yes please," I said, clearly embarrassed.

"How about some coffee? I always enjoy new people," he asked me.

"Oh that would be great," I replied immediately. But after a second, I started to wonder why he hadn't put another verb or something after "enjoy."

He slowly released my hand from our shake, but his fingers slowly traced along my fingers as he did so. I didn't understand why, but that felt nice.

We started walking toward what I thought would be one of the many coffee shops in this university town. We chatted the whole time. Mr. Koch was super interesting! He graduated from the university that I was about to start at! He was an airline pilot. He was an Air Force veteran. He was quite the sportsman too. He was a mountaineer as well as a triathlete! His marathon time was faster than mine and I was fast, already sub-3! He was married. His wife was an airline stewardess, but their schedules meant that they were at home together for maybe one week each month. She was away on a flight to Tokyo at the moment.

He suddenly stopped in front of a two story Victorian townhouse, an architecture that was very common among the houses around the more than century old university. It was at least another block to the closest coffee shop.

"Here we are," he announced, one of his muscular arms beckoning me up the steps to the entrance.

It dawned on me suddenly. He didn't want to get some coffee at a coffee shop. He wanted to get me inside his house.

"Oh, I thought we were going to a coffee place," I said, staring up at the stylish two floor Victorian longhouse in front of me.

"My kitchen is a great coffee place. I make great coffee," he replied.

He waited to gauge my reaction.

"Alright," said my mouth while my brain said something else entirely.

I sauntered up the stairs to the door of his house, Mr. Koch a few steps behind me. I stood next to the door, and Mr. Koch pulled out a key from a pocket and unlocked the door. He opened the door and I stepped through.

There were a gaggle of shoes circled around the entrance area, as if the shoes were all getting ready to walk out en-masse in protest of their working conditions. Most of the shoes were dress shoes and womens' shoes.

I continued to look down at the fleet of shoes until Mr. Koch explained it.

"These are mostly my wife's. In her country, people take their shoes off before they go into the house," he said, starting to remove his running sneakers from one of his feet.

"Go ahead and take them off," Mr. Koch added, pulling one shoe off his feet, and then the other.

"My shoes?" I inquired.

"Well, it's just the two of us so you can take off anything you want, but yes please take off your shoes," he said jokingly, beaming his welcoming smile again.

I giggled and smiled at that. What the hell was I doing?

As I was pulling my tight running shoes off, Mr. Koch walked barefoot to the next room, which I could see was a kitchen from where I was standing.

I took off my socks and tucked them into my shoes by the entrance and then skipped off to the kitchen. Why did I skip? I barely made any noise at all bounding along the tiled floor.

Mr. Koch was already working an impressive machine in front of him, his back to me. The machine was belching steam at odd intervals and making steampunk noises. I again noticed his muscled butt and sculpted back through his form-fitting and revealing triathlon suit.

"How do you like it?" Mr. Koch asked me suddenly, his gaze still on the marvelous contraption in front of him.

"Hm?" I asked him back, not comprehending.

"Hot and wild or slow and flavorful?" he said, turning his upper body around to look at me, smiling again.

God he had a great smile. It was beckoning. It was welcoming. It was friendly. You instantly wanted to be around this guy.

"The coffee?" I retorted, my tone somewhat quizzical.

"Oh yes definitely the coffee," Mr. Koch replied, turning his upper body to look at me again as he spoke, smiling again and winking at me once.

Okay. He was hitting on me. I needed to shut this down before he did or said anything he might regret. After all, I wasn't into men. Even one as attractive as him. Even one with a perfectly athletic body like him. Even one who was suggesting interest right back at me. Even one who was a lot older than I was. Even. Even. Even.

But I didn't.

I didn't.

"Oh, uh, I...uh, any way I can get both in my coffee?" I replied, the speed in my voice raising as I approached the end of my sentence. I was suddenly getting nervous. I was also flirting. Why?

"I like a guy who likes it both ways, Caleb! I think you're gonna like my coffee!" Mr. Koch retorted nearly instantaneously, smiling widely before turning his attention back to his ancient coffee maker.

I laughed at his barely concealed innuendo, and then walked over beside him next to his coffee machine, which was now seeping brown liquid into two small cups.

And then I saw its outline. Again, a triathlon suit is form fitting and form revealing. I could see Mr. Koch had an erection already. And he was large. Very large. The triathlon suit was doing its best trying to contain him but it was obvious when I came to stand by him that his cock was very very very large.

I stood there stupidly, staring at his concealed package.

If Mr. Koch noticed me staring as his gift, he didn't show it. (He noticed.) He just withdrew the two cups of coffee, turned to face me directly, and extended one hand with a coffee cup to me, beckoning me to take it.

"Your house looks amazing," I said, taking the cup, which was hot, and took a sip of the brown liquid with swirls of white circling in a vortex on the surface.

"Thanks. You wanna tour? I can show you upstairs, if you want," he asked, also taking a sip of his coffee.

I needed to shut this down. I knew I shouldn't be getting this guy's hopes up. He had a wife. I had a girlfriend. I knew that I should just say thanks and then leave.

"Oh okay, thanks," I said. At least I got to the saying thanks part.

Mr. Koch grinned and took the coffee cup from me and placed it on the kitchen table next to us. He beckoned me to follow him. We wound around the corner of the kitchen to a set of stairs going up, and I followed him up. I watched his muscled butt compress and decompress as he took steps up to the second floor. Why was I looking at his ass so intently?

As we walked into the hallway above the stairs, Mr. Koch pointed out that two of the doors along the hallway led to either his son's or daughter's old rooms. He said that his daughter had moved out three years ago and his son last year to attend university in another city. We walked past several closed doors to the end of the hallway and through an open door to his and his wife's bedroom. There was a huge king size bed with large bed poles at each edge in the middle of the room next to a large window, which allowed bright sunlight rays to flood the room. The bedspread clearly revealed that his wife was the one doing the decorating, as the whole bed screamed "honeymoon". The sepia colored bedspread, the numerous heart shaped pillows, and the dainty white lace on the edges of the bed suggested that Mr. Koch's wife loved this bed.

That's when I noticed the ceiling mirror above the bed. Oh god. Mr. Koch and his wife installed a king size bed length mirror on the ceiling right over their domicile.

While I was looking at the ceiling mirror, Mr. Koch stepped over to the nightstand next to the bed and opened a drawer. He deftly pulled a clear plastic bottle filled with something that looked kind of like water and calmly tossed it on the bedspread while walking back to where I was standing at the edge of the bed.

"Wow. Your bed is very...uh," I said.

"Feminine? Yeah. That's Tera for you," Mr. Koch interrupted, mentioning his wife's name for the first time. He stepped very close behind me and wrapped his arms around me, covering my chest.

"Oh. Um. I don't know if I want to," I mumbled, suddenly unsure. I could feel him behind me. He was bigger than me. I could feel his cock pushed against my ass through my running shorts and his triathlon suit. He was bigger than me. I could feel his hot breath against my neck. He was bigger than me. My hands came up and wrapped around his arms that he had wrapped around my chest. He was bigger than me.

He kissed me from behind on my neck, just below my right ear. I could feel his one-day unshaven scruff rub against my skin.

I liked that. I started to get hard.

One of his hands wondered down my body to the edges of my running shirt while his other arm continued to hold my chest and my hands held onto his one arm on my chest and he continued to slowly kiss the nape of my neck and my cheek.

I liked that. I started to get harder. I moaned involuntarily for the first time.

Both of his hands moved to grasp my shirt and pulled it up over my head while I turned around, now bare chested. He leaned in to kiss me on the lips, his arms wrapping around my back and my hands on his chest.

I was kissing a hot older man. This man was old enough to be my dad and his tongue slipped from between his lips and into my mouth.

I liked that. I started to get even harder.

He interrupted our kiss, stepped one step back from me, and unzipped the top half of his triathlon suit down, revealing his shaved and muscled chest, his tight abdomen. He rolled his muscled arms out of his suit. The top half of his suit hung around his waist like a bath towel.

He took a step back toward me, one hand wrapping around the back of my neck and the other hand going to my waist. My hands went to his waist, touching his triathlon suit that was still half on. He drew me into his warm body and our bare chests nudged against each other for the first time. He again kissed me, tongued me.

I liked that. I was completely hard at this point.

Then I felt him pull my running shorts down. I wasn't wearing anything under my shorts because the running shorts had thin underwear built in. I was suddenly hard and naked in front of him, my arms around his shoulders, slowly stepping out of my running shorts as he pulled them off me, as we continued to make out.

One of his hands ripped off the lower half of his triathlon suit. When they say that triathletes are very good at transitioning from one set of sports equipment to another and thus are able to take clothes off quickly, they weren't kidding. He was fast, stepping out of his triathlon suit in one practiced motion, revealing himself to me.

He was huge. Oh my god he was huge and girthy and throbbing. One of my hands involuntarily darted to cover my mouth because I was so surprised. He was porno-big. He was horny as all hell and his fuckrod was pointed right at me.

Oh god. He was gonna fuck me. This guy was way stronger and bigger than I was and he was gonna fuck me. I'd never done anything with a guy but I could already feel his hunger in the way he was kissing me. He wanted me and he wanted me bad and he wanted me now.

Mr. Koch stepped back toward me, again embracing me with both of his arms wrapped around my shoulders. Our cocks came into direct contact for the first time, sabering against each other as he closed the distance between us. Intuiting my sudden nervousness, Mr. Koch whispered to me between hot and wet kisses.

"I'll make this very good for you," he said, whispering into my ear as he slowly nudged me closer to the bedside.

"I've never done anything," I whispered right back between hot kisses and soft caresses, hoping that he would understand what I was trying to say. His hands were snaking along my back and butt as he kissed me on my neck and shoulders.

"I know," he whispered back into my ear again between further kisses and caresses along my body. His hands were now slowly snaking along my shoulders, my chest, and my hard nipples. His fingers were colder than my skin and his movements left goosebumps in their wake.

"I don't know what to do," I whispered again between hot breaths and kisses, again hoping that he would understand. He was kissing me so much that I could only muster single sentences of thought before his lips were back on me. Even though he was going slowly, I was harder and hornier than I'd ever been before.

"I know," he whispered back.

I was letting him take control. I'd never done this before. When I was with a woman, I was the one directing events, leading her, but now this hot sexy man who was old enough to be my father was getting me to submit. I'd never given up control like this before. It was scary and intoxicating and sexy and wonderful and all sorts of contradictory emotions all at the same time. My skin prickled excitedly every time he touched me. I was rock hard against his gentle caresses.

He slowly strolled us back against one of the bedposts. My back was against a bedpost that was taller than me. Its old and cold wooden frame sent shivers through me upon first contact. Mr. Koch, still slowly and purposefully kissing and tonguing my mouth, reached for my upper arms and brought his hands down to my wrists. He stopped kissing me and withdrew his face from mine. I took quick horny breaths during the respite. His grip on my wrists increased and he pulled my arms up over my head and positioned my hands against the bedpost behind me. I was stretched out naked against the bedpost, my hands holding the top of the bedpost, one of my feet on the floor and the other rested against the lower part of the bed frame behind me.

His hands still slowly caressing my body around my waist, he took a step back from me. The best word I can think of for what he did next was "behold" me. He looked at me fully, examining all the details of my young, slim, naked and hard body. His eyes wondered all over me, and he smiled, his visage revealing that he liked what he saw.

"You've got a great body, Caleb, so good, I love it" Mr. Koch said, showering me with compliments.

"Thank you," I replied instantly, and for reasons that I didn't really understand, I started crying a little right then and there. Little tears seeped down my cheeks, but I kept my hands gripped on the bedpost above and behind my head like he had molded me into that position.

He stepped forward instantly, our thighs back in contact, our rock hard dicks swording against each other again, his larger one heavy and girthy against mine. One of his hands slowly folded over one of my wet cheeks, and his face bore down on mine again for another kiss. He kissed me for a good long time, his tongue slowly dancing against my tongue in my mouth. His arms wrapped around my back and caressed up and down along my shoulders to my ass.