Coffee with Charlie

Rich Wilson had moved into a seniors apartment complex, relocating after the house he had shared with his wife of 36 years became too much after her passing. At 63 Rich had no illusions about finding a new love, even though the equipment still worked quite well, so he settled into his new digs with no expectations.

Almost immediately Rich was befriended by Charlie Robinson, a silver haired fellow about his age who was going to be his neighbor, and the genial gent even helped him move in. Rich liked the guy even though his outgoing personality was almost the exact opposite of his own.

There was something about Charlie Robinson though, nothing Rich could put his finger on at first but the more they interacted the more Rich was sure he was correct. Charlie Robinson was gay.

It wasn't from anything he had said about himself, because other than mentioning that he too had lost his wife a few years earlier he hadn't made any indication of his sexuality. Rich had concluded that maybe Charlie was bisexual.

Nothing wrong with that in Rich's eyes, since he was as well, or at least that was the way he looked at himself. While he had not been with a man since he met his wife 40 years ago, before then Rich had as many male lovers as female.

Many of those male lovers back then were gentleman who were as old as Charlie, since Rich's baby face and good looks seemed to appeal to the more mature fellows. Rich was no longer a baby faced teen but was in decent shape for a guy his age.

Charlie was a rather handsome fellow as well, at about 6' and bit more than 200 pounds considerably larger than Rich, and Charlie had a neatly trimmed goatee than made him look like a professor Rich once had. Rich had to admit he had found himself fantasizing about his neighbor from time to time, although Rich knew he would never be the one to make the first move because that wasn't in him.

But what if Charlie did? Rich wondered exactly what he would do if what could have easily been construed as just friendly pats on the back or playful squeezes of the shoulder were actually something else altogether?

That question was answered one Wednesday morning when Rich was out on the patio, enjoying the morning sun with a cup of coffee and the newspaper, when the sound of his neighbor's sliding door opening changed everything.

As Rich tells it...

********

"Howdy neighbor!"

The deep baritone of my outgoing neighbor had me smiling even before I lifted my eyes from the paper, making me wonder how anybody could be that jovial before noon, but that was Charlie. "How they hanging?"

"Good morning Charlie," I called over the short distance between our patios, the design of the building making everyone's little porches rather private except for the one adjoining apartment, and I was happy that Charlie was the one I was forced to be familiar with.

As Charlie talked about the outcomes of games I had only moderate interest in, I hid my amusement regarding my new friend's lack of modesty, because while no one could really see our second floor apartment patios unless they were creeping through the wetlands in back of the building and I didn't mind coming out in my pajamas myself, Charlie seemed to delight in outdoing me.

Charlie was wearing a robe, some kind of silky red thing with flaming oriental designs on it, but unlike myself Charlie wore no pajamas underneath it, and just as he had before he made no effort to keep it more than slightly closed, leaving much of his husky body exposed.

As I had done before I showed my lack of disgust by looking, subtly I hoped while we chatted. My eyes took in the parts I could see; Charlie's barrel chest that was covered with a mat of mostly grey hair with dark brown mixed in, the plump man boobs with rather enormous nipples that the hair could not hide, his round belly and of course what was below.

That part of him was something he was obviously proud of, and I couldn't blame him for that. If that fat brown uncut cock was attached to me I would probably be displaying it myself, and as the subject changed to my moving-in progress I couldn't help wondering whether Charlie was testing the waters.

The thought had crossed my mind before, and just as then I wished I had some of Charlie's openness. The pleasure of a man's flesh was something I was not unfamiliar with, although except for one wayward moment during my 36 years of marriage, all of those other gay experiences had been back when I was single.

The one thing all of my homosexual experiences had in common was that I was never the aggressor. All I would do was stand there and act all shy and innocent playing the part of the twink even though I wasn't familiar with the term, but in fact the shyness was always genuine with the innocence part there only in the beginning. If it was left up to me I would likely to have been a virgin my entire life. Even my late wife had to come on to me because I was so lacking in self-confidence.

So I would stand there at a bar or a party or even on the street, and men would be all over me. Why I don't know because I was not remarkable in any way, although I guess I had a kind of boyish charm. Whatever the reason men - especially older men - were attracted. It was like I had a sign on my back announcing that was theirs for the taking, and for a short period of time I didn't say no.

That was in my rear view mirror though but now as a widower I was faced with something I hadn't had to deal with in almost three decades. I was alone and had no one to hold at night or any other time. Pillows had proven to be a poor substitute, but I think that if my equipment didn't still work as well as it did it wouldn't have been so bad.

At 63 I found myself masturbating just about every day, just like in my youth, usually in the shower while thinking about Elizabeth, although I confess to thinking about other people as well.

Charlie was the subject of a very pleasant wank one night the week before as I jerked off while thinking about the very cock I was trying not to look at from across the way, imagining this hirsute older fellow seducing me like many men his age had done in the distant past.

"I'm okay," I told him as I finally answered. "At the rate I'm unpacking boxes I'll probably be dead before I get done, but I've got the essentials unloaded and put away."

"Back still bothering you?"

"A little, but that's nothing new," I replied.

"That offer still stands," Charlie reminded me. "I've got magical hands and may I remind you that I was a trainer for a local semi-pro football team for years."

"It's tempting," I answered like I had before.

"I have this incredible massage lotion going to waste over here," I responded. "Coconut Mango. You'll think you're in the tropics while your aches and pains disappear."

"Well..."

"Come on."

"Let me get dressed," I said as I got up, but Charlie blew that off.

"Come as you are. Those pajamas are like a sweat suit," Charlie said. "Or I could come over there."

"No," I laughed, knowing that this guy would probably waltz down the few feet to my door with that robe wide open. "I'll be there in a second."

As I went to get a robe to put on, I started thinking about what I was doing. There was a chance I was wrong, although I doubted it. He had stood there practically announcing to me - come over and take this cock - and I guess I had given him an answer.

I rubbed a little deodorant on, wishing I took a shower in the mornings like I had during my working years instead of evenings, but after taking a deep breath opened my door and peek out into the hallway before walking quickly next door.

The door opened just as I was about to knock, with Charlie with the robe mercifully closed up welcoming me inside his place, and after offering me a coffee or juice, which I declined, asked me if I was up for a Screwdriver.

"It's ten in the morning," I laughed as I got a slap on the back, and then he was telling me to go into his bedroom and get ready.

"Take off your pajamas and things," he replied after I told him I didn't know how one got ready for a massage.

I went into his bedroom and grabbed a towel I saw on the dresser, using it to wrap around my naked body after I shed the robe and pajamas, and after I climbed into the warm unmade bed I tried to get my heart to beat a little slower.

"I'm glad I didn't bother making the bed," Charlie mentioned. "Soft huh?"

"What?"

"The sheets. 1800 thread count sheets," Charlie informed me. "I sleep in the nude so it's worth splurging. Smell this."

"Nice," I said as he held the bottle under my nose for a second before splashing some into his meaty paw.

"Shy fellow huh? Peek-a-boo," Charlie chuckled as he lifted the towel up. "Cute little butt. My butt used to be perky and cute like that, but then I turned 3."

I chuckled too as his hearty laugh filled the room, and then after telling me to relax I felt the touch of another man once again as his greased paws worked over my feet.

Despite my being terrified, Charlie's kneading fingers began to work, as as the hands went up my ankles and up to my calves I began to actually relax a little. By the time he reached my lower thighs I was a believer.

"You know, I wish I was a football player," I told him as his fingers dug into my thighs. "It would have been worth getting battered for something like this."

"Confession time," Charlie said. "That was bullshit, the part about being a trainer for a team."

"Oh."

"I only told you that to get you into my bed," Charlie said, and my hands reflexively gripped the 1800 thread count sheets at hearing those words. "This isn't the first time you've been in a man's bed, is it Rich?"

"No, but it's been years - decades," I reluctantly admitted as his hands went up higher on my thighs.

"Thought so. I have a sixth sense about that sort of thing," Charlie replied. "All those years you were married - you were never tempted?"

"Sure I was, but only did something once."

"I'm all ears. I love a juicy story."

"Not much to tell. I was friendly with a neighbor a long time ago and we had a couple drinks over in his man cave. The conversation turned to life experiences, and when I admitted to having done things with guys he asked me what it was like because he was curious," I confessed. "The next thing I do we're giving each other head."

"Felt guilty?" Charlie asked as he nudged the towel aside and worked my buttocks.

"Yes. So much so that a few years later me and Elizabeth had a little retreat and I admitted it."

"Her reaction?"

"She laughed."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and after she stopped laughing she told me that when she went on her 20th anniversary high school reunion - something I couldn't travel with her to - she met somebody that she used to sleep with a lot, and she ended up in bed with her."

"Her?" Charlie chortled.

"Yeah. For whatever reason that made it all right with me," I admitted. "It wasn't like she was getting something I could give her, and I guess that was the same way it was with me."

"I had my flings with guys all during my marriage. With my wife's consent," Charlie said as those magic fingers worked up my back and shoulders. "She knew I was rather oversexed and I didn't want to go behind her back. She was fine with it as long as I played safe and also let her have her fun. In her case her outlet was slot machines."

"I see."

"It might have been cheaper financing gigolos," he laughed as the knots in my neck and shoulders disappeared, and then he told me to roll over.

"On my back?" I mumbled, not knowing whether this was part of a massage.

"You don't toast bread on just one side," I was informed, and although I was plenty anxious, after all the man had just massaged my ass, so I rolled over, careful to gather the towel around my lower extremities as best I could.

"You know that towel is going away soon," Charlie told me as he knelt by my side. "Stretch back for me."

"That's good," Charlie said as he oiled up his hands again, and as he prepared to massage my shoulders he smiled at the smooth skin of my exposed underarms.

"You shave your armpits Rich?" Charlie asked as his fingers kneaded the tender flesh under my arms.

"No," I mumbled in embarrassment, squirming as he played with my shoulders. "Not really."

"I sense a story here," Charlie said.

"Well, back after we got married I suggest to Elizabeth that it would really turn me on if she didn't shave her armpits," I related.

"Another child of the sixties."

"Exactly. Well, she was reluctant because it wasn't really fashionable any more and she saw herself as being rather hairy," I continued. "I told Elizabeth that it was only hair, so what did it matter? She countered by telling me that if hair was no big deal, she would go ahead and let hers grow as long as I shaved mine in exchange. I wasn't eager about that so I said I didn't know how, and she said she would shave them for me."

"Wonderful," Charlie exclaimed.

"It was compromise I guess. She agreed to stop shaving after Labor Day and only start shaving come Spring," I admitted. "It evolved to me being the one to shave her armpits once the weather got warm, and we made it a ceremony because not only did Elizabeth enjoy me doing it, it turned me on as well."

"And she kept shaving your armpits?"

"No. For whatever reason it never grew back after that time," I lamented. "Kind of embarrassing on the beach but it was worth it for me to see Elizabeth's armpits unshaven, and she had been right because by the holidays she sure was furry. It was our little secret every year because she would never wear sleeveless things in winter. End of story."

"I loved it," Charlie exclaimed as his fingers left my armpits and moved over to my chest. "And I think you loved telling it."

"I guess."

"I could tell because you raised a tent down there," Charlie said, and as I looked over his hands I saw that my towel had risen up a bit over my privates. "Makes me want to go camping."

"I think you'd be rather disappointed," I told him as he tweaked my nipples playfully.

"Your thinking would be mistaken," Charlie assured me. "I suppose I could flick the towel off and prove that to you, but maybe if I got rid of this you'd feel more comfortable.

What he meant by that was shrugging that silk robe off of his shoulders, and although I looked the other way there was something about that robe sailing over the other side of the bed that made me shiver.

"I'm no Matt Damon but I can't be that bad," Charlie told me as my intentionally not looking was obvious, and so I reluctantly looked toward him, and although I tried to look in his eyes I couldn't help myself.

The coconut scent overwhelmed the faint mango in the lotion, and I'd like to think it was that aroma that was making me dizzy but I knew better. It was the hands responsible, that and the sight of this burly bear at my hip that was making me light headed, and when my gaze went to the now semi-erect penis with the pink tip of the bulbous knob peeking out at me from beneath the ragged brown shroud I shivered even though the room was warm.

"How is it?" Charlie asked me while rubbing my chest and stomach.

"Rather impressive," I admitted as I looked at my neighbor's large member and meaty scrotum. "Intimidating too I have to admit, but then again I've always suffered from penis envy."

"I was referring to my massage Rich," Charles chortled. "Although I find your confession interesting, especially since you're in so much better shape than I am that it's embarrassing."

"As for size, I have to tell you that it's vastly overrated," Charlie continued. "If it works, that's way more important than size, and the way that tent keeps rising seems to answer that question. You have piqued my interest however."

I was frozen in place, unable to stop Charlie or even protest when he took hold of the towel and slid it off me.

"Nice," Charlie was saying as the hand that had been oiling my stomach moved downward, through the light brown tuft of hair above my dick, avoiding my modest member as it stood up straight and proud while I strained to make it look bigger than it was.

Charlie knee-walked around to get between my legs and then parted them wide, his hands massaging all around my dick but not touching it and leaving it quivering and begging to be touched, the mushroom head's skin so taut it looked ready to pop.

"You like your massage so far?" Charlie asked as his hands slid up my stomach and back down.

"Yes, despite how embarrassed I am," I conceded as I looked down at my erection with Charlie's member swaying nearby providing a stark contrast.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Charlie told me. "You're in incredible shape. You're trim and toned and look great. Me? I'm a fat old guy who looks old enough to be your father."

"If I could only get that hard again," Charlie lamented as he looked down at my pulsating member whose tip had a creamy white cap on it, and when he took himself in hand and rubbed the tip of his cock against mine the sensation almost made me lose it.

"Omigod," I groaned, my humiliation about how his manhood dwarfed mine disappearing as my entire body shook as if there was electricity involved in the penis caress, and out of the blue I said, "Mr. Robinson, are you trying to seduce me?"

"Richie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," Charlie chuckled, countering my quote from The Graduate with A Casablanca of his own, and when I nodded in recognition he bent down and took me into his mouth.

I almost lost it when my neighbor's wet lips slid from the gooey tip right down to the base, deep-throating me with no problem, and I struggled to stay in control because despite all my trepidation this felt way beyond good.

Charlie had his head down, revealing the thinning silver hair on top of his bobbing skull, and I noticed for the first time that my neighbor's back was almost as hairy as his chest and just like that was mostly grey.

Charlie soon slid down into the bedding, his head moving slowly as he sucked my dick, pausing a couple times to look at the glistening prong and lick along the underside before swallowing me once again.

I felt his hand pulling my nuts up a bit, and after he rolled them around I felt something strange - strange in a incredibly nice way - and although I couldn't see what he was doing I could figure it out.

With my dick in his mouth right to the roots, he was moving his face a bit from side to side, scraping his goatee against my wrinkled nut sack, and this totally new experience was soon causing something I didn't want to happen, happen.

"Charlie!" I cried out, trying to warn him that I was about to cum, but he didn't seem to care and only sucked harder while continuing with the grinding of my nuts into his bristly facial growth.

It's tough to rate orgasms but the one Charlie induced was way up there, and he kept sucking even after I was drained, not letting go of my nuts until I was very limp and quite little. Only then did my neighbor flick his tongue at the shriveled toadstool and rise up from the bedding.

"Amazing," I said, shaking my head in wonder. "The goatee - that made it end a lot quicker than I wanted, but it was unbelievable the way that felt. That was a new one for me."

"Glad you liked it," Charlie said as he straightened up his kneeling position and contorted his back. "I might have enjoyed it as much as you did."

"Apparently," I said as I watched his cock sticking out almost straight, the beige foreskin having slid back to expose almost all of the reddish glans. "Now I hope I remember well enough to reciprocate."

"Okay, if you insist," Charlie chortled as he threw himself on the mattress next to me in a mockery of his grudging reluctance act, the bed rollicking in the wake as I got up onto my knees and looked down while he assured me, "I'm sure it will be like riding a bike."