Old Tom. A Slightly Cautionary tale.

                                                           
This very much based on a true encounter tale is pretty damn long.
A lot longer than I first envisaged. Much longer. For this I apologise.
However if you aren't inclined to labour through all my inordinately long blethering - and I don't blame you - then skip straight to parts 3 & 4 for the fucking.
Though I do hope you will take the not inconsiderable time to read it all as this will provide some well needed context.
No matter how you read it, I do hope you enjoy it and criticism and feedback will be welcome.

Thanks for your patience.

Billy (but not really)




                                       1



When I visit a guys place for sex  it sometimes starts off as formal and proper as a visit from a clergyman to an old woman parishoner.
You'll arrive,  pass a remark or two about the weather, traffic or some current sporting event,  maybe have a pre coital cup of tea or coffee.
Though hopefully the pre coital bit isnt an occurence between the clergymen and parishoner - but given the woeful standard of God botherer these days, would you be at all surpised?
Getting back on track; you might exchange a few bland enquiries...nothing too personal mind, they dont actually want to know and I dont want to tell them. But theres a sense that they want to get to know you if just a little.
Its understandable after all. They are hosting a stranger in their home for the most private and intimate of acts.
They'll be naturally a little wary.

Then there'll be a lull in the conversation,  meaningful eye contact, maybe a light brush of finger on hand or thigh, you'll lean in, mouth slightly open, searching theirs and....well, a few minutes later its all sweat, skin and grunting.
Hopefully youve made it to the bedroom.


But thats not usually the case.
Mostly I go to a guys, flat, house - and on one  memorable occasion - workshop, (I still chub up at the slightest whiff of WD40), theyll answer the door and with barely a greeting I'm following them to the bedroom and we're both grabbing for each others cocks before the front door even shuts tight.

Horny trumps chatty in my experience.


But this encounter was one of the former not the latter type.

Theres a fucksite that i'm on intermittently. There are no gay bars, clubs in my town, i'd need to go 10 miles to the nearest city for any sort of scene. But I'm not  of an age or disposition to frequent them anyway.

You see I dont always crave the caress and comfort of a mans arms, I'll go months without bothering. But every so often I'll get a yen for cock.

I've used this site for years and its better than most.
Theres a surprising amount of horny gay and secretly bi-guys around the medium sized town that I live in.
Well it surprised me when I got into all this nearly a decade ago.

Theres usually enough of us in the surrounding area to keep some sort of anonymity  and  enough fresh dick. As well as encountering recurring favourites.
The anonymity is vital to me as a married bisexual on the downlow.

As some of you know only too well, there is a lot of furtive shuffling, to-ing and fro-ing and careful subterfuge to be mastered in a career as a long time actively bisexual but maried man.
My goings on are further hampered by an awkward shift pattern at work and my unknowing wife who uses our car for her work.
I obviously cant accomodate myself - which means I always have to rely on those who can - and have to also rely on taxis or public transport to get there.

Its usually a case of trying to get a time or day free when I can sneak away so then I'll frantically go online and try flailing and casting around looking for hook ups wherever I can find them.

And so it was the case early this year when I got my yen for men again.

The covid restrictions were in full swing and as I logged in again to my favorite fucksite, well, I found it was deathly quiet. I was expecting it to be slow, but it was moribund.

I had a week off work (non covid related) and had some afternoons to myself that I was loathe to waste.
Those afternoons at the start of the week I spent fishing but nothing was biting.

Oh there were still the odd vague maybes and the ever present timewasters, but even they were a lot thinner on the ground than usual.
I'd had nothing and by the Thursday and was rueing a wasted free week. Then I got another message from a mature guy called Tom.

He'd messaged me at the start of the week, but lived in a pretty rremote rural area a good few miles away.
I had him down as an 'unlikely maybe' as I knew the village he lived in was barely serviced by public transport. And it was far enough away that a taxi there and back was... Iook, I dont earn a lot as a humble factory worker.

But he'd messaged me a few times over the past few days and  he seemed keen. And in truth if he'd lived nearer he'd be ideal.
I prefer mature guy around my age, late fifties. Give or take a decade or so either way.

Dont get me wrong, I'll happily go with a younger guy if the chance arises. I once spent an afternoon with a fit 26 year old gym guy with daddy issues who gave me such a draining "workout" that I was left shaking like a van with a busted timing belt.

But for the most part I prefer the mature experienced gentleman for intimate companionship.


Tom that that bill quite admirably.
His profile said he was 62, just a few years older than me.
He was into the same stuff i was: kissing, frotting, sensual skin on skin and long slow fucking.
He was also into wearing stockings and panties. That wasnt quite my attire for fun and frolics, though I certinly wouldnt mind him doing it.
Most of all he was eager and available.
But, unhappily, he was still just too far away for me to go.
I replied to him explaining my transport difficulties and that if only he was just a little less inaccessible then I'd be in like Flynn.
I was sorry but it wasnt going to work out.

He very kindly offered to drive all the way over to pick me up and then bring me bck.

I was flattered and tempted by this. I replied that I was grateful for his offer that it was just too much to ask.

But Tom insisted.
Well it would be rude to refuse I thought. And besides there was nothing else looming for upcoming man on man fun.

So I agreed.
And started to get excited.


                                                                          2


We arranged for him to pick me up the following lunchtime. At a small retail park about 20 minutes walk from my home. I never like to get too close to home.
The next day I waiting in a light drizzle as lunchtime shoppers and workers from nearby businesses buzzed about.
Tom phoned me and said to look out for the colour and make of his expensive German car.
I was impressed. We'd exchanged phone numbers the previous night and now it was bodily fluids that I was eager to exchange.

I saw his  car come down the road, it slowed as it approached me. I told him I'd be wearing a brown leather windbreaker and jeans. He stopped. The drivers window came down.

"Billy?" he asked.
This, of course, is not my actual name. Im not naive enough to offer anything close to my actual first name as a monicker.
I leaned down, "Yeah, that's me...erm..Tom?"
He nodded.
"Get in." he said.
I hesitated.
This wasnt what I expected. This wasnt a man in his early sixties. Unless he'd had a particular hard paper round in his youth, this was a man maybe fifteen years older than that. Early seventies at least if I was being generous. And I am not a particularly generous guy.

I got in anyway. The rain was starting to belt down now and his car was dry and warm.
As we drove off I had the definite sinking feeling of me plunging headlong into another completely avoidable disaster. But I was still going to get my dick sucked somewhere along the line, so there was that. So I was in.

As we drove away in the now lashing rain down slick narrow country roads, he must have noticed my disappointment as he seemed to be making a noticeable effort to be overfriendly.
He just wouldn't shut up. Chuntering on ultra cheerily as I stared glumly out the car window at the passing rainsoaked hedgerows and fields.
And, My God, how he went on, yammer, yammer yammer.
Naturally sulking like a brat as I was, I wasnt really listening, just mumbling the odd, "uh-huh" or "Really?" in the pretence that I gave a shit.

But from what I did gather, he was whining on about some guy who he used to hook up with semi regularly, who had disappeared from the scene. He'd deleted his fucksite account, and his wasnt answering texts or the odd call Tom ventured to make.
In fact it seemed his phone number was inactive.
He thought this very suspicious.

To anyone else it was clear the poor sod was trying to avoid Tom.
After a few hook ups, Tom seemed to think that he was now a part of Kevin's - for that was the poor bastard's name - life.
Texting him every day, occasionally ringing him.
As it was dawning that I might be getting myself  involved with a clingy looper, I started to take an interest in the tale of sad Kevin.
"Was he gay or bi?" I asked.
"Oh he was bi. A married guy, like you," was the reply.
"Well there you are then. His wife might have suspected something and hes just lying low."
"You think so?"
"Yeah, its obvious." I replied. I was avoiding the brutal truth that Toms harrassing was the 'obvious' answer. He just couldnt seem to comprehend that. And for some odd reason I didnt want to hurt his feelings.
"Oh I dont know, it still seems very suspicious," he said conspiratorally, " I think theres more to it."
It was now dawning on my that he now had my number. Though I was immediately reassured by the fact that, by a stroke of luck, my phone contract was due to run out at the end of that very month and I made a mental note to get a new number as well as a new phone if this spacer started harassing me...hell, i'd get a new number anyway just to be sure.

It was quite a long drive and as we went on he seemed to relax a bit and I started to cheer up a little. At the end of this there'd still be a little fun, and I was getting farther and father away from home as the weather got fouler and fouler. It was impractical to ask  him to let me off. A long walk home through drenched countryside on dangerous thin winding and rain sodden roads was very much at the bottom of my bucket list. And I hadn't the brass neck to ask him to turn round and drop me back where he found me. There was still a 20 minute walk in the downpour after that as well.

Eventually we reached his home village, He lived at the edge of it in an expensive looking new build.

We went straight through to his kitchen, nice and spacious with all the newest gadgets and he made me a coffee on some chrome plated noisy apparatus. I was impressed.
We sat at the kitchen island and he said, "I want to get to know you better,"
Not the sort of thing a man who wants to remain as anonymous as possible and just fuck other guys want to hear.
I tried to be as vague as possible without seeming rude. And the coffee was really nice.

After about 10 minutes of inane babble I was starting to get anxious to let the dog see the hare, if you get my drift.
He seemed to feel the same. He put his coffee down pretty firmly and said, " Well lets get started then, eh?"
"At fucking last." I thought and got off my stool.
"No. You wait here. I want to get ready. I'll only be a few minutes, I'll call you when to come up. It'll be the first door on the left at the top of the stairs."
Oh Christ, I thought, I'd forgotten about his stockings and panties thing.

A couple of minutes later I heard a call.
"Billy, you can come up now."
So up I went.


                                                                   
Tom wasnt a big man. Thin, wiry,  maybe described as athletic in his younger days and not tall, about 2 or 3 inches shorter than my five foot ten.
And the sight of a skinny small elderly man in stockings, black satin panties and stilletto heels is never going to be not ridiculous.
But, credit due where its due, Tom wasn't as ridiculous looking as I feared.


His legs were predictably thin but amazingly enough had enough shape and defintion to be able to almost pull it off.
His heels made him as tall as me and it was obvious that something very big and  pretty special was bulging those satin panties to their absolute limit.
Tom was hung.

I took off my glasses, jacket and polo shirt. Looking at him without my glasses and if I squinted a little then I could just  see  the remains of a younger, handsome Tom, one that four or five decdes ago, would have had the guys (and girls if he choose) queueing up to fuck him.

I was starting to look forward to this now.




                                                                                3



Immediately we went at each other. Our mouths clashing. Like me he had full lips, our mouths met and tongues sought each other out to writhe and wrestle.

His hands fumbled at my belt and fly as we kept our mouths locked together.
I had to break away to pull and shake off my jeans from my legs.
While I was doing this Tom lay down on the bed, face up, legs apart.
Now naked and starting to harden, I knelt at the end off the bed grabbed his legs and pulled his slight frame towards me then pulled off his panties which his thick hard cock was  now doing his utmost to stretch to ribbons.

I pulled them down and his hardness flipped right into my parted moist lips and I took him deep into my mouth.
I felt the light rasp of the nylon of his stockings against the side of my head as he tried to use them to hold my head tightly to his groin.
I carressed his balls then flicked my tongue over the tip of his glans, working it particularly on the tip. Then ran my tongue down the seam of the underside of his dick to kiss and take his balls gently in my mouth while wanking his long shaft slowly and firmly up  and down.

He was quietly moaning and started to arc his groin into my face  so I had to push him back on the bed.
I released him from my mouth and clambered on top of him.
I was now hard and laid my stiff cock against his.
My smaller member lay on his lovely big shaft like a koala clinging to the trunk of a eucalyptus tree.
I slowly ground myself into him while our lips renewed their previous encounter.
His legs now wrapped around me. His heels poking gently into the back of my thighs.
I pushed into him again and again.
His embace tightened. We broke our kissing to just rest our foreheads together and catch a breath.

"I'm gonna fuck you now. Okay?"
"Yes, yes, fuck me! Fuck me face to face!"

As Ive probably said too many times already, Im not that big. Ive had occasions where attempting to fuck a guy face to face was difficult, especially if my lover was a bit of the heavy side. And i'm hardly sylph-like either.
But I knew that I'd have no such qualms with Tom. He was thin, old and had practically no arse.

I crawled down his body, pausing only to give his cock a quick affectionate suck on the climb down. Then stood at the end of the bed.

One of his stilettos had already disappeared during our embrace and the other was just dangling off his toes.

He stretched and reached over to his nightstand to grab a small bottle of lube and lobbed it down to me.
I almost caught it.

I pulled his light frame down the bed towards me and positioned his ass on the edge. Put a wiry leg (now both shoeless) over each shoulder, squeezed some lube onto the tip of my fingers and gently pushed a finger slightly into his hole.
Then rubbed what remained on my hand onto my iron hard cock.
I shuffled back just a litle, leant forward, and taking my weight, leaning my left hand on the bed. Used my right hand to position my helmet to rest against his entrance.
I took a few seconds to enjoy the feel of my glans touching his almost twitching hole...then shifting half of my weight on my right hand to balance the thrust, pushed slowly but firmly into his accepting ass.

Now I hadn't rubbered up. I normally do, but it just had not occurred to me, caught up in the moment as I was. He hadnt mentioned it either. He'd thrown me the lube and there was no sign of condoms on the nightstand where the lube was, so he wasn't wanting me too.
He wanted us to rawdog.

I was pushing into him slowly now, but still standing up if leaning forward at a precipitous angle.
We kissed, but it was an uncomfortable position for both of us, being rather beyond our limber primes.
So, putting my knees on the bed,  we sort of shuffle fucked up the mattress. Me trying to stay inside his lovely tight hole and enjoying, as he was, the movement we made.
In a more comfortable position now and still, miraculously, connected in pleasure, we set about fucking in earnest.

Oh I could wax lyrical about how we expertly and slowly consecrated our lustful union like reunited long lost lovers until we mutually climaxed moaning in unison as a gentle wind blew jasmine scents through a window with a billowing curtain all in the warmth of an hot afternoon sun.



That would be bollocks.

We fucked.

It was an awkward, frenzied, stuttering, slobbering, groaning, moaning, occasional swearing, fast fuck which to an unlucky observer would resemble an entangled jerking knot of aging unsightly limbs with appropriate ghastly noises while a loud tattoo of cold January  rain drummed against the window.

By Christ, it was fun though.
It was over before I knew it.
I was a bit pent up and had a lot to release and I filled that old bastard up to the brim as I pulsed wave after wave of my hot jizz into him.
Tom made odd eerie, "Ack! Ack!" noises as I flowed into him and for a stupid moment I wondered if I'd pumped so much of my cum inside him that he was choking from the inside up.

But the way he quickly grabbed my head and forced our mouths locked in a deep long extremely horny kiss reassured me that his noise were just ones of immense pleasure not ones of physical impossibility.

Well I'd cum. And like the normal man who has just released the baby batter, was now focused on other things. Usually food and/or a quick exit. If my lover was lucky I'd holler a thank you on the way out.

But Tom was having none of that. He held me in a tight loving embrace. I was after all still in  him. Though my softening spent cock was creeping down and when it flopped rather shamefacedly out of his ass followed by a trickle of my juice, Tom giggled like a schoolgirl. We were still entwined.

Eventually he released his hold and pushed me gently off his frail frame ( quite surprisingly strongly) and hopped off the bed and into the ensuite bathroom as I lay gathering my wits and breath like a spent, slated, pudgy tomcat.

Two towels flew out of the bathroom to land on my sticky torso.
"I'm having a quick shower. Wipe yourself off and you can get in after me." he called.

A few minutes later he emerged naked, drying his thin grey hair with a towel, his lovely long length swinging, and said, "All yours."
I though he meant his dick, but he meant the shower.

I quickly showered and like him walked buck naked into the bedroom drying my hair, to see him lying on the bed, with a smile on his face slowly wanking an impressive length.

Truth be told, I wasn't that interested. I'd just blown my load minutes earlier in what was an admittedly tremendous session and was all set to head home.

Then again he was my ride home, and, there was no denying it, that was a mighty delicious looking length.

He patted the bed to his right for me to join him, and I decided that I'd done far worse things than to give a horny old man a few extra minutes of pleasure.

So I lay beside him, my left hand reaching over to brush away his and take over the jerking duties and leaned in so that we could kiss in a good old fashioned teenage type snogging session.

He seemed to sense my eagerness to leave even though I had said nothing.
"Don't you want to stay for a bit more?" he asked.
"Yeah," I muttered unconvincingly, "But you've  just drained me dry and at my age, it'll be hours, even a day or so, before I'm fighting fit again."
"Oh I dont know about that", he said, a mischievous smile now on his old face, "Have you ever had your prostate milked?"



                                                                          4


I'd not yet experienced that particular pleasure. In fact I'd never given it any thought.
I'd been fucked a few times but always by the same guy, a lovely, kind and well endowed former fuck buddy whose tender lovemaking is still one of my most treasured sexual memories.
But his question intrigued me,
"No, I haven't. Is that an offer?"
"Oh yes." he said.
"Aye, why not."
Well if i had to stay a little longer than I'd like then I may as well try something new.
He seemed mightily pleased with my answer and bounced over to the nightstand to grab the bottle of lube again.

He told me to move down the bed and when I got into the position that he took when I started to fuck him, I noticed his long length start to chub up at the thought of fingering my barking spider.
Well it takes all sorts, I thought. I also thought that I would mind that big stiffening rod of his to do the probing instead.

"If you wanna, you know, fuck me, I'm certainly not going to object," I said.
He seemed oddly put out by this.
"Oh no, I wouldnt want to do that," he said, "I'm a 100 percent bottom."
I didnt hide the disappointment on my face.
"But dont worry," he quickly added seeing my crestfallen look, "You'll love this, I promise. I do it all the time."
I settled in, curious to see what would happen as he spread my knees apart, and  I waited to by digitally violated.

He lubed a finger and i felt it touch my sphincter and before I could draw a breath I felt it slip in.
It wasnt obtrusive or sore, he just slid it in. I felt it move inside me. An odd feeling I thought. Though I could feel it I didnt quite comprehend that it was in me.
He wasnt in as far as I thought he would be, but then this was just an old man's probably slightly arthritic finger.
but then, oh boy, he seemed to find what he was looking for and he started to stroke - if anything could stroke in a tightening elastic encompassing tunnel, maybe massage is a better term - a spot I never knew i possessed.
The first stroke made me gasp.
The second one made me emit a noise half moan half yelp.
The third, "Jesus fucken Christ!"
Then another, and another, By now I was clenching my arsehole trying to sever the finger from his hand. Not because it hurt but because I never wanted it to stop.
I was feeling waves of delerium and I raised my torso putting my weight on my elbows and threw my head back. I thrust myself in shallow jerks down towards his skilful manipilation trying to match his rhythm as wave after wave of something wracked my body.
My soft cock becoming slightly tumescent though not hard, flopped a stacatto beat against my stomach as, wonder of wonders, I knew that I was close to climaxing again.
Tom was saying something. Though what he was saying, i was too far gone to comprehend.
"Oh Sweet Jesus, Im going to cum again!"

And with that my flaccid dick jerked and I jizzed over my belly.

It wasnt a great deal, but it wasnt a dribble either. And it was slightly watery. But I'd cum again barely 20 or so minutes after delivering a jumbo sized gush into Toms sweet old arse.
"You made me cum again!" I croaked incredulously after what seemed like an age to get back my breath and composure.
"I havent cum twice in one afternoon in, well, decades. And I dont think Ive ever cum twice in a half hour in, Jesus, ever, I think!"

Possibly I had more than a few times during some teenage masturbatory frenzy over some leaf and damp stained hedge porn or the ladies underwear section of my mother's mail order catalogue.
But that hardly counted.

As I lay there contemplating this miracle, Tom climbed on the bed and then on me and said in a false petulant tone, "Well this isnt fair. Youve cum twice and I havent cum once!"

I hadnt even considered this in my natural selfish way. And he was shuffling up straddling me on his knees. As he said it his cock was now stiff, his foreskin pulled back to show his gleaming glans advancing towards my now open and welcoming mouth.

I took his cock eagerly and put my arms arond his thin ass and pulled him deeper into me.
I managed a decent sloppy rhythm up and down his long lovely cock,  brought my arm back to caress his balls and feel a slight twitching of them and I knew he was near to release.

I was chagrined when he quickly withdrew from my lips and moved down to violently jerk off, and as I raised my head to watch, spent himself - a decent amount too - all over the drying pooled cum on my belly from his expert milking.

Our jism now mingled on my stomach and he even mixed it a little with his finger and the got on top of me and lay out.
"Now we're stuck together with our cum." he said. Then we kissed tenderly and wrapped our arms around each other and lay there like lovers. Sticky with our own issue.


                                                                             5

Well a minute or two of that sort of soppy girly behaviour was more than enough for two aging hornballs.
He peeled himself off my and there was a satisfyingly sticky sounding " THLIPPP" sound as or stomachs parted company.
Then we both had a second shower.

If me coming twice inside an hour was a miracle on the scale of Moses parting the Red Sea, then me showering twice inside 60 minutes was akin to the appearance of a second sun in the sky.

We both dressed in silence but smiling and casting doe eyed glances at each other....It was all a bit sickeningly twee, now that I look back on it.

After dressing we went back downstairs.

After my satisfying exertions, I was certainly in the mood for a cup of his excellent coffee as a post coital treat.
Neither of us smoked so that traditional method of after-fuck relaxation was a non starter.
To my slight annoyanace Tom was all but bustling me to the door like an unwanted guest...which was exactly what I was now that he had slaked his lust on me, the rotter! I felt like a used tart.

I quickly realised he was right though. Time was getting on and it was a long drive back to my pick up point. Also it had at last stopped raining and I still had a walk home after being dropped off and i doubted that it would stay dry, or more accurately, dryer, for very long. So speed was of the essence.


The trip back was more or less a carbon copy of the trip there.
Though I started the voyage with smug sexual gratification rather than the  sullen sulks of the first one. But like the few hours previously my mood crumbled under Toms incessent chatter. And the subject of the chatter was, once again, the fate of poor bloody Kevin.

"Something's definitely happened to him,"  he opined, "I know him. This isnt like him."
"Nah, he'll be fine," I countered, "He's just laying low for a bit."
"I'm not so sure," he babbled on, "If I havent heard from him by next week I think I will contact the police."
My first instinct was to scream at him, "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND?!"
But I didnt want to have to walk the rest of the way home.
Oh I doubt he could have physically forced me from his expensive example of Teutonic luxury and efficiency, he was far too old and slight for that. I'm not a confrontational man though.
So it was with admirable restraint - I thought anyway  - that I calmly said,
"No. I am certain that that would be a very bad idea."
"Really?" asked this oblivious old tool.
"Yes really." I replied. I decided that, walk home or not, it was time for a little bluntness.
"Look, you know yourself what those websites are like. One encounter with someone who might come across as annoying and who doesnt know when to leave off can scare you. Like I said before I think hes just laying low. He's married. He cant take any chances. I dont blame him."

To the less obtuse this would have been a huge flashing neon sign saying "It's you, Dummy!"
Especially as I had subtly - I thought - emphasised certain words.

But I may as well have been handing a fountain pen to a wasp.

"Thats true," he cluelessly burbled, "I've certainly come across my fair share  of those type of  idiots on there."

This was as good a result as I was going to get with this aging buffoon.
I vowed that if on my quest for cock that I ever ran into this Kevin, that I'd give him an angry fuck for all this and at the very least we'd  have our share of after fuck war stories to swap about Tom.

He seemed to quieten down. For about ten minutes and then resumed his paranoid rambling.

I was heartily sick of him by the time he pulled up at the shops where he'd picked me up.
It was still, thankfully, just about dry. And just before I got out he leaned over.
For one horrific moment I thought he was going to kiss me. Here! Right in front of a bustling retail park!
As I readied to push him off, he was in fact reaching over me to lift a roll of breath mints from the storage pocket in the passenger side door.
"Ah, I knew I'd left these here," he said and sat up and popped a mint into his mouth.
"Want one?" he offered up the roll, "You dont want your missus smelling cock on your breath, do you?" he smiled.
I laughed a little too heartily with relief and took one.
He put his thin liver spotted hand on my thigh and slowly rubbed it. His little finger gently touching my cock which treacherously stirred as the rest of me was eager to get out of the damn car and off home.

"We'll do this again than?" he said.
"Oh yeah, certainly, " I lied, "Cant wait. In a few weeks though. I wont get any time to fuck until then."
I'd no more intention of meeting this mad old coot again than I had of sticking my johnson into a blender. Any gratification and affection I'd previously had for him from an hour before had disappated like morning mist before a westerly gale.
"A few weeks then," he said as I got out, "See you then. Keep in touch."

I waved as he turned the car and drove off.


It wasnt long before the messages and texts started. Barely a couple of hours in fact.
The first ones all nice bout the great time we'd had and how he'd enjoyed it.
I two facedly replied in kind...well not too two facedly (God, this is a clunky sentence) as the fucking itself had been tremendous fun and the prostate noodling was out of this world. It was just everything else before the sex and then after it. Bar a particularly nice cup of coffee.

Then like me into Tom's tight asshole, the expected and feared pm's and texts came thick and fast.
'When were we going to fuck again', 'He was missing me', 'He couldn't wait to milk my hole', etc.

Even some regarding the blasted Kevin creature.
He still wasnt in touch.
Tom was certain some skulduggery was afoot.
He was definitely going to contact the authorities in a few days if Kevin didnt bother his arse to contact.
After at first replying that any contact with the police was extremely foolish, basically, telling him to calm the fuck down, I realised that I didnt give a fuck one way or the other.
Damn the elusive Kevin - even though I was now more than sympathic to his plight - and the Devil take the brain addled old bastard Tom.
Here was I safe and incognito in my home, a new phone and number now days just away. He didn't even know my real first name. Let alone my surname.
Why should I give a frog's fart about either of them?

When I picked up my new shiny phone, and after the inconvenience of changing the number and letting everyone I wanted to have it, have it...a much smaller amount of people than had my old one, I have to add...it was a relief to be able to switch it on after the nightly charging and not have my ears assaulted with a cannonade of message pings, or log on to the fucksite and see my inbox registering double figure PMs, all from a rural menace.

Soon after this my man lust started to abate. I had a couple of more hook ups into the spring and just lost the urge and deleted my fucksite account and gave Old Tom not another thought. Until a few weeks ago when the yen returned.

I just started a new account under the same name and renewed my quest for cock.
Old Tom still springs to mind when I recall his skillful finger probing my unwary sphincter and the delight that brought.
So far I havent noticed Tom on there. To be honest, I really haven't looked.
And I won't.
But if he sees me and gets in touch, well then, then its time to get a cheap burner type phone, (See? I've already given this some thought) go out into the countryside and fuck that old cunt until I spunk blood. Then he can work his finger magic on me again.

What can I say? I'm just really into old horny guys.


PS.

I wonder what the fuck happened to Kevin?