I shot a stream of cum up to the old man's chin. I could have made him cum right then, but I didn't want him to cum. For once I didn't have to fake my feeling. I slowly stepped out of my pants and stood naked before the old man. The Irving Trust Building.
Then I got in. Instead he kissed me on the forehead and turned over and quickly went to sleep. And damn if it didn't feel great. I watched the old queer's face closely as I pulled down my green work pants. You can do that first thing. His eyes were wide with excitement and I could see that something else was stirring to life. I was too drunk to walk over to Oakland Park. I got some beer in the refrigerator. I glanced around for a spot to place my beer and found a small table nearby under a terrible looking oil painting. We drove in silence the rest of the way to the old man's house. When I let go he pulled the covers back and climbed onto the bed and move over to allow me room. I could have made him cum right then, but I didn't want him to cum. The inside of my asshole was still soapy so his finger slid in and out easily. He had asked me what I used to do for a living and that's when the memory came back. Suddenly I could even remember me secretary's name. I guess I dislike kissing men more than sucking their cocks. I didn't even hesitate to stick my tongue inside his asshole. He gasped as I forced my dick head inside him. You smell something awful. As we kissed, I suddenly found myself hugging him and rubbing my dick against his as real sexual passion took over. I jerked my cock out of his ass and started jacking off fast and furiously. I had the old man moaning and grunting and holding my baldhead in his hands in seconds as I ran my tongue up and down his short thick dick as I sucked it. Inside, I found it tastefully decorated but not expensively so as memories of Persian rugs, Picasso and French furniture in a huge high-rise apartment flickered through my mind like a quick slide show. I had been fucked before by queers. I signed as though I had just sipped an expensive French wine. The house was small but it looked to me like it was on a canal as I got out of the BMW and followed the old man to the front door.
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