The Irving Trust Building. Hughes, Hubbard and Reed, a law firm! Suddenly I could even remember me secretary's name. I smiled as I lifted the small brown paper bag hiding my Budweiser and took a deep slip.
He had asked me what I used to do for a living and that's when the memory came back. He was dressed in a suit and tie and looked a little younger than me.
I lifted my brown paper bag again. I could tell from the way that he was staring down at my crotch that the old white haired man was queer. You eyes are bloodshot already" The old man said in his gentle professional voice. They are like the flag I felt a sudden sense of panic as I swallowed the last of the beer. I had used all the money from panhandling at the corner of Oakland Park and Federal Highway. I was too drunk to walk over to Oakland Park.
I got some beer in the refrigerator. You want to come home with me? The old man hesitated. He quickly ran his finger through he thinning white hair before speaking. As I caught up with him, I notice for the first time that I was a good head taller than the old man and a hell of a lot thinner.
He was thick in the upper body with a little bit of a belly, but not fat. I smiled but it wasn't for the reason that the old men must have been thinking. I was smiling because I suddenly remembered when cars, clothes and jewelry meant something to me. I waited until the old man unlocked the passenger side door. Then I got in. I don't even know your name. You smell something awful. And I bet you'll want to watch, I thought as he started the engine. You can do that first thing. We drove in silence the rest of the way to the old man's house.
I lost track of the streets after we crossed a bridge into Wilton Manors. 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. 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 didn't move as I glanced through the living room and sliding glass doors to the black water of the canal. I'll be right back. He stopped and glanced back at me nervously before disappearing into the kitchen. He was back in a flash as though he feared leaving me alone, which he was correct to do.
I had been eyeing some silver salt and peppershakers sitting over on his dinning room table near the entry to the kitchen. I made a note of them for later as I smiled and took the Heineken.
I don't really like green bottle beers but just grabbing the bottle loosen the panic's grip on me. I took a deep swallow of the bitter imported beer. I signed as though I had just sipped an expensive French wine. He led me to a small bathroom in a hallway leading to the bedrooms. I glanced around for a spot to place my beer and found a small table nearby under a terrible looking oil painting. I quickly took another drink before placing the Heineken on the table. As I unbuttoned my shirt I glanced at the old man and smiled.
His eyes were wide with excitement and I could see that something else was stirring to life. The small bulge in the crotch of his dress pants had grown noticeably larger. The way he was moving his hand against his thigh, I knew that he longed to be playing with his dick. The old man's mouth dropped open when he saw all the white hair on my chest.
Then he actually licked his lips when I unbuckled my belt and unzipped my pants as he spotted my thick white patch of pubic hair. I watched the old queer's face closely as I pulled down my green work pants. The look of disbelief distorted his handsome face as the sheer size of my dick and balls stunned him.
I slowly stepped out of my pants and stood naked before the old man. Then as I let him have a good look at me, I reached down and picked up the Heineken and took a drink.
I took another deep drink of beer as I listened to the old man adjusting the water. He didn't make any effort to leave the bathroom as I entered. I just smiled at him as I stepped into the tub and under the spray of warm water. I didn't make any effort to pull the sliding shower door close even though water was splashing out and onto the old man's suit. I just grabbed a bar of soap and started leathering my body.
I took my time working the bar of soap around my asshole and even turned my ass to the old man as I forced the bar of soap inside my asshole. The soap stung but I didn't mind. I had been fucked before by queers.
I didn't like it but when the panic seized me, I would do anything for a drink. I even bent double so that the old queer would get a good look at my huge low hanging balls and thick, long dick as I began fucking my asshole with the bar of soap until I was able to push the bar completely inside my asshole. When I turned back to face the old man he had his dress pants unzipped and his cock out.
It was short but thick and unlike mine, cut. Then as I watched him masturbating, I leathered up my huge dick, causing it to swell up bigger and bigger until all fourteen inches was hanging down between my legs.
I saw the old man let go of his dick and tense up to keep from cuming. That made me smile. I hate it when it took the queers all night to get off. I stepped out onto a floor mat he had placed on the white tile floor of the bathroom. He didn't hand me the towel; instead he began drying me off.
I already knew that the old man would give me some money after he got his rock off and the guilt and shame of taking advantage of a homeless alcoholic set in. The old man was gentle almost loving the way he moved the towel over my face, making sure to clean my ears. I felt like a child again being dried off by my father after a bath. I let the thought persist.
It made me feel warm inside. Then the old man was drying my chest and rubbing the terry cloth against my sensitive nipples and the warm feeling slowly transformed into sexual excitement. I never thought of myself as being queer. I'm just one of those people that can have sex with anyone or thing. I like women but get just as hard when a man fondles me as I do when a woman does it. I jack off several times a day when I don't have sex with women or other men and sometimes even when I do.
Sex is sex to me. I enjoy drinking and cuming. Let me dry you back off. I did as he asked and felt him moving the towel over my shoulders and down my back. He rubbed my ass cheeks with the towel then I felt him suddenly probing my asshole with his index finger.
Then he slipped it inside and started finger fucking me. The inside of my asshole was still soapy so his finger slid in and out easily. Then suddenly I sensed the old man bending down and I felt his tongue replace his finger.
I bend over to allow him better access to my asshole as I truly enjoyed his rimming. I would have preferred it being a woman doing it, but hell it still felt great. And my big dick swelled even larger as the old man's talented tongue reached deep inside my asshole and then began to twist and turn inside of me. By the time the old man stopped rimming my asshole my big old peter was standing almost straight out from my body as I turned back to face him. He didn't bother drying my crotch, he just got down on his knees in front of me and took my huge dick in his warm, moist mouth and started sucking.
When I glanced down at him, I saw that he was staring up at me. I smiled at the old man knowing that he wanted to think he was doing a good job. His mouth was much too small for my thick dick and his teeth were scraping painfully along the side of my dick, but I smiled. I desperately needed beer money and wasn't going to let a little discomfort get in the way of the guilt money he would give me.
I was in fact glad when he stood up even thought it meant that it was my time to suck him.