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  • Three Score Years and Ten Ch. 01

Three Score Years and Ten Ch. 01

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This isn't a straight-up gay fuck story – it's a longish build-up to a gay pairing between two elderly gentlemen which runs to 5 pages. So don't expect wild excitement and rampant action so much as excited anticipation and total pleasure. Please read and vote on this story with those considerations in mind.....

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Life's tough once you get 'over the hill' – or so they say.

And now I was indeed finding out the truth. I'd just celebrated my 70th birthday, much to my horror. It had been ok being 'just' 69 until yesterday but now I'd reached another milestone and another decade. I felt very old today. What on earth was there still to look forward to, at my age?

Ok – I had no intention of dropping dead or otherwise becoming a useless old bag of bones, so the future still existed. I was still pretty fit for my age – I'd completed the London Marathon earlier this year.....my fifth London Marathon and I'd finished once again in under 6 hours; hardly an earth-shattering time, but I'd made it to the end each year – and until my wife's illness I'd swum most days at the local pool. I always watched what I ate too.

I still wore the same size clothes that I'd been wearing for the past twenty years or more – helped perhaps by my relatively tall and slim frame – at just on six feet tall and 168 pounds I was adequately solid without being fat anywhere.

And for that matter, I still had most of my own teeth and quite a lot of my own hair – I'd lost my appendix many years ago but otherwise I was all intact, I reckoned. Among other trivia, I even still had my foreskin!!

And now I was a silver-surfer, loving the internet and the way it allowed me to tour the world from home.....and the porn, of course.

But now I was 70 – life had almost finished with me, I felt.

Because now, as a widower, I felt that I had very little left. Once my wife died, cruelly taken away prematurely at 65 by cancer, I was on my own, more or less. Our two children had long since married and had both migrated to other parts of the world. And those people who were 'our' friends when we were a pair now deserted me as a single man. Not only that but it seemed that every 'social do-gooder' seemed intent on getting me to partake in incredibly ancient activities that could only serve to make me feel even older.

So what was there left to do in my life? Oh – plenty actually but on a day-to-day basis, life was going to be boring if I wasn't careful. My wife and I had downsized some years ago into a two bedroom bungalow but I still had a nice compact garden – well, more like a large patio area surrounded by creeper-clad walls and fences so at least I had somewhere to potter and relax. Fortunately too, my bank balance was healthy enough for me to afford holidays if I was interested, although truthfully I had no great desire to go on holidays alone. My days of gallivanting around the world had long since passed.

So I was alone now and at 70, how do you 'pick up the pieces'? How do you get on with life by yourself? And sexually – where was I now?

Where indeed? Because that one thing was for certain – my sex life still needed looking after. I may have become old but everything still worked, even if it sometimes took quite a bit longer to achieve anything. But given the right stimulation, my seven inch penis would still become erect and my balls still carried a good load. All I needed was the desire to have sex, be it only with myself but the impetus was hard to find these days.

For a while I just meandered through life, not really knowing which way I was heading or even why because it takes a bit of doing to kind-of erase someone from your world after the best part of forty years......but gradually I found myself a bit more 'alive' once again. I settled into a routine; shopping regularly; paying more attention to the garden – and to my own appearance and generally trying to become part of society once more.

I don't know what started my new sex life off but I guess it was simply that I'd had no sex of any kind during the year or so leading up to and following my wife's death – I'd been too numb at the time, I think. Thereafter, I'd wanked occasionally but my heart wasn't in it, even if my cock had performed properly. But now my hormones must have piled up sufficiently to demand a release – and for some reason I found myself needing some plain simple sex. It had suddenly moved to the top of my agenda!

So, one afternoon, once I'd pulled the curtains and made sure the door was locked, I stripped naked and made myself comfortable at the computer, soon bringing up one of my favourite porn sites from years gone by. I won't tell you which one it was for fear of their site crashing from the sudden additional interest, but suffice to say it gave me access to video clips from right across the sexual spectrum and today I clicked on some of my old favourites – cumshot compilations.

Soon massive eruptions and waves of gleaming white spunk were splashing across my screen – and my hand was working away hard on my quickly rigid erection.

There's something about cum – to me it isn't all gay; cum happens with each and almost every sexual act whoever it's between and it's the most evocative and erotic sight I ever wish to see. The squirting of spunk is the culmination of a 'successful' act of stimulation. I feel sorry for those ladies who never squirt or produce their own version of cum; I feel doubly sorry for those men who are unable, through injury, illness or otherwise to produce anything.

Because the sight of a large glistening throbbing erect penis recoiling as it spits out its gushers of sticky white cum is the epitome of delight for me and could easily bring me to a crescendo.

Gone were the days though when it was my own tower of strength that was doing the gushing – nowadays a good steady dribble or perhaps one long streamer of cum was about the best I could offer.

But the pictures on my screen still brought my penis to orgasm almost as quickly as they used to do and moments after watching one last magnificent erection squirting fountains and sprays of hot cum in the air I felt my own cock jerk hard. Seconds later my body stiffened; my breathing ceased; even my blood seemed to freeze – until it all let loose!

Exhaling from the depth of my lungs; turning into jelly all over, I held my penis tight and felt the power of an unstoppable jet of cum as it left my body and erupted a good six inches in the air – maybe even a bit more!

"Aaaaaahhhh!" I cried, "Oh God! Oh yes! Oh fuck!"

The days when I could fire my sperm up and over my head were long gone but I hadn't cum so strongly for years as perhaps six months or more of pent-up spunk sprayed and ran from my cock to soak my penis, my pubes and my fist.

Eventually I collapsed; a spent husk with a drooling cock and a sticky wet groin and hand. The last few dribbles of cum were still at the tip of my cock; an occasional involuntary internal quiver causing another small blob to appear from time to time that in turn dripped onto my abdomen.

I leaned back, panting hard and slowly recovering from what had been the best orgasm I could remember, in ages. Phew – I'd enjoyed that!

And somehow that fantastic bit of excitement seemed to set me off.

Within days I'd changed mentally – within days I became a sex-hunter; prowling the net for the best cumshots; my now ever-ready cock almost as stiff as ever it used to be; my orgasms now more powerful and exciting than I could remember; my eruptions stronger than for years. I felt almost rejuvenated.

But something was still missing and it took quite a while for me to make the simple deduction – what was missing was a partner.

We all wank; some more than others but the majority of us use wanking to add to our sexual pleasures, not to be our sole method or release. Often in the past I'd find myself tossing myself off to relive the excitement and pleasure of a particularly good session with my wife but doing so wasn't an alternative to sex – it was an addition to our normal sex life.

But now, it was all I had......

So what to do?

In a bored moment I set down all my pros and cons in an attempt to create a balance sheet of my desirability and my needs.

Yes, I was fit enough and well-enough endowed – and my bank balance was fine (not that I intended to reveal or squander that). I had my own detached bungalow, my own car, even my own private income. I could cook and converse and be a good host.....

But on the cons side there was only one question; did I want to start life with another partner again?

Hmmmm – I wasn't entirely certain about that.....but nevertheless, the demands of sex made me register with some dating sites, if only to see if I could appease my now easily excitable cock.

But it was when I started to prowl through the web to seek out sexual partners; me obviously searching for a somewhat younger woman, that I realised how many rip-off websites, money-grabbers and time-wasters there were out there; how dangerous it was to seek a sexual partner.

Damn – no way was I going to be content with just my fist for the next twenty years though!

But no way was I going to be taken for a ride either!

Instead I stuck to a path I knew – self-abuse, as they call it. I bought myself a Fleshlight – a fantastic artificial vagina and for some months it became my preferred means of pleasuring myself, but it wasn't the same.....

Instead I explored another avenue – my previously unused and almost unexplored anus.

I bought a nice soft flexible vibrator – and some KY gel. Well, pretty obviously the vibrator looked like and almost felt like a cock and I was somewhat disconcerted about putting even a pseudo-penis into my arsehole.....but I needed some extra stimulation somehow and perhaps this would do the trick.

And it did – as soon as I found my prostate!

Oh wow! Seven decades had passed without me knowing about my prostate!

Oh yes – the doctors had explored it to check for cancer but their work had been totally clinical and best quickly forgotten.....until now!

And now the Fleshlight became almost forgotten and unnecessary as I fired up my vibrating penis inside my anus; stimulating my arse and my prostate gland and to bringing me to orgasm after orgasm until I was replete and totally unwound.

It had taken a little while for my arsehole to accept the vibrator but I'd persevered and now, with some lube, it slid inside quite comfortably.

Then, getting quite brave I bought myself a prostate stimulator as well which fitted inside me more easily but which didn't give that rather enjoyable feeling of my anus being stretched so much. In a way it was better; in other ways I somehow missed that full feeling now, so I alternated my orgasms, now also using the Fleshlight in between times.

What a dissolute and depraved old man I'd become!

For what must have been weeks I seemed to spend most of my spare time laying on my bed with my laptop beside me showing almost non-stop ribbons, waves and eruptions of cum, as I probed my arsehole and masturbated – and loved it!

I'd discovered a whole new sex life – I was now having perhaps ten or more good orgasms a week – a truly massive increase on my weekly activity over the past ten years, I'd guess, but I was enjoying every minute; every gush; every last twitch of my cock.

But eventually even all those wild times faded; perhaps I became jaded and needed more......I guessed that I really still needed a partner.

Back to the searching but I was very wary now – so much so that I almost lost interest once more, but one day things changed quite dramatically, although I wasn't to know it at the time and I wasn't 'on the prowl' on the internet at the time, either.

On the way back from the shops I usually passed through the local park, admiring the flowers and nodding to the old men dozing in the sun on their benches, but seldom if ever stopping.

But today there was a tennis tournament underway – dozens of scantily-clad and often nubile ladies cheerfully disporting their lovely bodies not yards away – the ladies tennis club were enjoying themselves. For once I stopped to enjoy the sight, my old cock twitching and swelling with pleasure; so much so that I found myself putting my hand in my pocket to help control him.

'If only I were 40 years younger' I dreamed as I gently massaged my penis, 'I'd be in there.....!'

'But you're not, are you?' my mind reminded me and I felt quite crestfallen for a moment, until a voice beside me spoke up.

"Takes you back a bit, doesn't it?" said the voice and I looked beside me.

There another elderly gentleman stood, his eyes on the ladies, his somewhat gnarled hands gripping the rail we were leaning on.

"I was just thinking exactly that," I said, "Ah – those were the days!"

Together we stood there watching silently, just the occasional intake of breath sounding as one or other female displayed more flesh than before.

"Fair gets your blood racing!" said the other guy and I chuckled, agreeing wholeheartedly; noticing that he too now had one hand in his pocket.

It seemed silly that a few flashes of knickers, bouncing breasts and erected nipples could set us both going as easily as a whole screenful of completely naked porn stars could manage!

We'd been standing there for perhaps ten minutes before the other guy turned to go.

"Can't stand here much longer," he said; his hand now visibly moving in his pocket, "Better go and take care of this."

I shook my head in wonderment that someone could be so basically crude – then I realised that my own cock was stirring considerably and that I too really needed to go home and take it in hand.

And instead of being embarrassed, I found myself laughing with him.

"Hahahaha, never too old for that, are we?" I said, "Think I'll do the same!"

"Catch you again," said the other guy by way of goodbye and he sauntered away while I turned and with a last lustful look at the ladies, I too turned and headed home.

Minutes after I was home I was naked on my bed – no laptop this time – just me, my KY-coated vibrator and my fist. My cock was as hard and excited as he'd ever been in recent years and as I plunged the vibrator into my lubed-up anus I found that I saw in my mind, not the girls playing tennis, but the guy standing beside me.

In my mind his trousers were gone and instead he was naked from the waist down, his hand steadily stropping a truly massive erection – a penis completely out of proportion to his body; a surreal image. As I watched him, his gigantic cock erupted hugely, spraying great gouts of sperm all over the place; it fell, in my mind's eye, as hot rain over us and the tennis players; splattering everywhere, even turning the ground white.

"Aaaagghhhh!"! I cried as suddenly I too orgasmed, "Oh fuuuuuck!"

And for once my spunk squirted clear out of my cock – right up to my chin.....an occurrence that hadn't happened for perhaps thirty years!

Another big gusher sprayed up my chest before a final small eruption and a series of dribbles ended my orgasm – possibly the best one I'd had – maybe ever!

"Oh my God!" I breathed as I relaxed, the still-buzzing vibrator sliding from my anus, "What the heck.....?"

I lay there in a kind of daze, trying to discover the cause of my massive excitement. I put my hand over my pounding heart to ensure that it kept going.... Surely it was the live display of nubile flesh, wasn't it?

But no – my mind kept returning to the sight that I didn't actually see......what I imagined he was holding and doing right there beside me. Ha – no way could his cock ever be as big as I'd imagined it to be! From his hand movements his cock must be about the same size as mine but my dream-like images imagined his penis to be perhaps twenty inches long and rearing massively in the air as fire-hose jets of cum powered from it into the sky. Ah well, we can but dream!

I shook my head but then I slowly came to my senses. Yes – I'd always loved to see a good cock erupting; loved to see spunk flying everywhere, but somehow I'd never put it into my daily life – it was all on-screen – unreal.

But suddenly there was this male person beside me with an obviously excited penis who was going to go and squirt his cum.....and in moments my cock was hard again – stiff as a board!

'Stop it', my mind was trying to shout, but it was drowned out by the images of my dream-world and by the sensations coursing through my genitals – I was becoming fixated on that man's penis!

Gently I massaged my renewed erection, now using some of my generous emissions to lubricate my foreskin and all the while allowing my mind to wander; to relive that very, very erotic waking dream.

Soon things began to tighten up again; to stiffen even more. My breathing became quicker as did the motion of my fist up and down my shaft and in a sudden moment of excited realisation I reached for the vibrator and plunged it quickly back into my still lubed body.

Moments later I erupted again; another chest-high jet of cum – and another, before I was left holding my weeping limp penis in my also limp fist.

I'd become fixated on his cock! Surely not!

Eventually I got up and went and showered – I needed it because apart from being covered in cum I was also covered in sweat and despite two orgasms I still felt aroused and I was almost pleased to run a cool shower to calm me down!

That night I slept blissfully – no dreams or interruptions, although I awoke with a hard-on that wasn't related to a need to pee. As I shaved I told it to behave and eventually my erection subsided.

And at the breakfast table, as I watched the morning news I mulled over my future intents.

Was that guy so important to me or had I just been turned on by the girls and then by his actions and words?

Or had I even turned gay perhaps.....?

Then I understood that my greatest erotic delight was to see spunk – any spunk....and where did it come from? A penis of course! Therefore there was a kind of symbiotic circle – I loved spunk, which needed a cock, which needed a man – so did that make me gay? No way, I reckoned.......

I returned to the news and my breakfast before contemplating my actions for the rest of the day. The shops could wait until tomorrow; the flower beds needed weeding; I had some washing to do – all bland activities, just to keep me going. But what else to do – nothing much except to have another wank perhaps. No – not really interested today – I was drained after yesterday, although I did feel a frisson of pleasure quiver through me as I remembered the fun.

'Oh well – back to the reality of old age,' I thought as I washed up my breakfast things and before long I was immersed in the daily grind of looking after my home.

By the evening I'd recovered considerably both physically and mentally and as I lay on my bed I began prowling through some excellent porn once more. But although my cock rose into an erection, he was reluctant to perform it seemed and before long I felt my eyelids drooping.

'Tomorrow' I promised myself as I snuggled down in my lonely double bed.

'Tomorrow' dawned bright and warm – a great day to be up and about.

A definite walk to the shops and perhaps a wander around the park today, I decided, noting another happy tremor pass through my genitals as memories came back to me. Hmmm – on second thoughts, perhaps I'd avoid the park after the somewhat 'naughty' happenings. I blushed slightly as I recalled the events while I gathered my shopping requirements and soon I was heading out on a different route into town; one that afforded me some more exercise.

In town there wasn't a whole lot I wanted but having bought my few wares I headed home, discovering as I daydreamed, that I was walking back via the park once more and I was a little annoyed at myself for letting my feet rule regardless of my head!

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