I was about to leave for home, having had a pleasant walk with him around the small town he now lived in. We were back at his cosy house, full of treasure he’d amassed over a lifetime of collecting, some of it valuable but mostly things that had caught his eye and been held onto, sometimes for decades.
We’d known each other for decades as well, he was a few years older than me and had been very handsome when we first met, and as I thought him to be now, even with the ravages of time; too many cigarettes and too much liquor, for which he was now paying the price, but with unexpected good humour considering his rather taciturn nature.
Time had wrought its changes on me as well, my once slender body now stocky, with a belly that hung slightly over my pants and which I looked on with a sort of humorous wonder, having been thin as a rake in my younger years. My shirt was open and I was wearing a loose green (the shop had called it “avocado”) tee-shirt underneath, the weather finally starting to warm up after a long and particularly cold winter.
We had attempted a love affair in the distant past, but his interest in sex (or I should say the sexual act) had never been great and I had roamed elsewhere. Our affection remained however, and we had never quite lost touch with each other.
I don’t know what I had expected when I went to see him after a few years of distance, but the hours had passed happily enough remembering old friends and good times, skirting around the intimacy we had once shared. He had been on his own for the past few years, and I was happy in a longterm relationship that had slowly transformed into a companionable and loving friendship.
We were standing in the hallway about to say our farewells when he put his hand on my belly and rubbed it affectionately through the tee shirt. I laughed, embarrassed and disconcerted, but didn’t push him away, as he seemed to enjoy my new fleshiness. We didn’t say anything and I suppose I was scared of breaking the moment, frightening it off with some inappropriate remark. I was good at that.
He gently pulled the tee shirt from my pants and allowed his hand to wander inside it, up over my hairy stomach. He’d always liked my hairiness, his own pale body being smooth and soft. He lifted my shirt further to reveal my nipples and began massaging and tweaking them, flooding me with memories of the good times we’d had. We stood silently facing each other for long minutes, an occasional moan escaping my lips as he gently increased the pressure.
Without thinking I reached down and undid my shorts, letting them drop to the floor. My cock was sticking out of my boxers, the foreskin slightly pulled back and the head already moist and glistening. I took it in my hand and started slowly pulling, sliding the skin back and forth, hoping he wouldn’t think I’d gone too far.
Looking down he smiled and replaced my hand with his own, reminding me that this was one of the few pastimes he’d always enjoyed. He worked my foreskin with his usual dexterity, knowing all of the tricks, stretching, rubbing, pinching, pulling. Reaching into my boxers I brought out my balls, hanging lower in their furry sack than he likely remembered after all these years, and pulled on them while he continued his happy work.
I wanted to get his cock out as well, but knew that this would make him uncomfortable. He had a beautiful penis with a loose foreskin which I had taken great pleasure from in the past, like velvet between my fingers, but he hardly ever became hard and I knew that this embarrassed him, even though I enjoyed his softness and didn’t wish for anything more.
I lost all sense of time as we stood there, absorbed in the moment, as if in a trance. I was surprised when a shudder passed through my body and I realised I was coming, long strands of semen falling like heavy rain on his polished floorboards. His hand kept up its steady rhythm, instinctively knowing just how long my orgasm would last before letting the pressure loosen, mere moments before pleasure turned to exquisite pain.
I stood there gasping, letting him retain hold of my spent cock as it slowly relaxed and softened in his hand. Finally he slid the skin over the tender knob and worked it back into my boxers, cradling my balls in his hand for just a few moments before dispatching them as well. I pulled up my shorts and put myself back together. I kissed him on the lips without a word and went out the door.
Looking back to wave goodbye he’d already disappeared into the darkness of the hallway and I felt, rather than saw, his eyes on me as I climbed into the car and drove away.
