Date: Sat, 21 Dec 2002 10:55:25 -0600
From: Kory Diaz <shadowader43072@hotmail.com>
Subject: Hungry For An Older Man, part 1 - (Adult-Youth section)

Hungry For An Older Man!

by Kory Diaz

The usual disclaimers apply.  If you don't approve of sex, between
unmarried adults, don't read this.  Blah blah blah.


I swear I thought I was gonna cream in my jeans the first time I saw the
guy carrying a heavy load of groceries across the mall parking lot.  The
bright sun light shone on his broad shoulders and played off the flecks of
gray in his dark hair and beard.  Man, he was the ultimate Daddy figure.
In fact, he actually looked much like my old man, and that's saying a
mouthful.

At 43, Dad is one of the hottest men around.  In addition, if it wasn't for
the fact that we are father and son... well, I can't help it if I have
fantasies.

I was still thinking about Dad as I watched that hunk move away.  Bid
biceps bulged underneath a skimpy tank-top as he hefted the grocery bags to
make them more manageable.  His thigh muscles were damned impressive, too,
straining against the khaki shorts that hugged his mouth-watering, sculpted
ass.  This stud was probably a workout nut, and from the look of things, he
was a husband and father too.  I breathed a sigh of relief as he bypassed a
car with a woman and her baby inside, instead settling his groceries and
himself, alone, into a new pick-up truck.

I watched, helplessly, as he started his engine and drove right by me with
hardly a sidelong glance.  Then I did the only thing I could do.  I
memorized his license plate number.  An ex-boyfriend of mine works at the
Dept. of Motor Vehicles and it wouldn't be the first time I had asked Jack
to trace a number for me.  I figured if the guy was buying groceries, he
probably didn't live too far away.

As fate would have it, he had a place only three blocks from my parents'
house.  As soon as I got his address, I drove by and got excited all over
again when I saw his truck in the driveway.  I was hoping I would spot my
fantasy man mowing the lawn, without his shirt, but he was nowhere to be
seen.  I kept up this drive-by business for a couple of weeks and got
frustrated when I never got a glimpse of him.  I still didn't know what I
would do if I saw him.  Throwing myself naked at his feet would hardly be
the right move.  I didn't even know if he was gay!

Jack suggested I just call him and ask if the guy wanted to meet for
coffee.  It never occurred to me to make such a direct, simple move, and I
almost lost my nerve when I heard his voice on the phone.  It was deep and
rich, with a husky edge to it -- like Kris Kristofferson -- and it made my
nuts tingle like crazy.

"You don't know me," I blurted, "and you're gonna think I'm crazy.  I saw
you a couple of weeks ago and, well, I'd really like to meet you."

"Where did you see me?" he asked.  At least he hadn't hung up!  Not even
when I told him how devious I had been to get his phone number.

"I saw you at the Thrifty Mart.  You were carrying groceries to your
truck."

"Yeah?" he growled.  That voice was driving me wild!

"You were wearing khaki shorts and a tank-top.  Light blue."  When I heard
his next words, I nearly fainted.

"And you were wearing cut-offs and a striped T-shirt.  Red and white."

"Orange and white," I corrected, hardly believing what I was hearing.  "You
saw me?"

"Sure I did," he said.  "You were right by the exit and I remember thinking
you were cute."

"I can't believe it!" I gasped.

"Not so surprising," he said.  "There are never any hot-looking young guys
at the Thrifty Mart.  You were a nice surprise, which is why I remember
you."

"Really?"  I was practically jumping with excitement.

"Yeah."  He paused and took a deep breath.  "I also remember thinking you
were too young for me.  How old are you?"

"Eighteen.  I just graduated from high school."  I felt my heart race when
I heard silence at the other end of the line.  "Are you still there?"

"Eighteen?" he said slowly.  "Shit, I have a son older than you."

My heart sank.  "You're married?"

"Divorced." he replied, raising my hopes again.  Then there was more
silence before he muttered, "Eighteen, huh?"

"I'm a very mature eighteen!" I blurted, quickly realizing that was a very
uncool thing to say.  "Sorry."

His laugh was deep and very, very sexy.  "Hell, you're of age..."

"Does that mean we can get together for coffee or something?" I eagerly
interrupted.

"Or something," he ventured.  Of course, there were all sorts of
implications to that remark.  "Don't you think I'm a little too old for
you?"

"No!" I almost shouted.

There was yet another long pause, and then he asked, "What's your name?"

"Jeff."

"I'm Zack.  Zack Romanowski."

"I know!" I said, breathless and nerdy as ever.  Luckily, he laughed again,
a signal that my naïve behavior wasn't too much of a turn-off.  "Uh,
when would you like to get together, Zack?"

"How about this afternoon?" he said.  "I was planning on just puttering
around the backyard.  You know... maybe get a little sun."

"What time?" I asked, trying to control the excitement in my voice as I
rubbed the hard dick inside my jeans.

"Two o'clock.  And I'm sure you have the address.  Hey!  Do you have an
old, yellow Volkswagen?"

"Uh, yeah." I gulped.  Had he been doing some sleuthing, too!

"You been driving by my place for the last couple of weeks?"

"Yes, sir," I admitted slowly.  No use in lying.  I was wondering if I was
going to get chastised.  Actually, the idea of being turned over Zack's
knees and getting my bare ass spanked had definite appeal.  What I got
instead was that sexy chuckle.

"Is this some kind of hero-worship thing, son?"

I almost peed in my pants when I heard him call me "son!"  "Uh, no.  I just
thought you are really hot.  That's all."

"Okay then.  See you at two, Jeff."

"I'll be there.  Bye!"  I sat there for a minutes, staring at the receiver.
My father's voice startled me out of my reverie and I jumped when I saw him
in the doorway.

"I need the phone, Jeff.  You on or off?"

As usual, around the house, my dad was in his underwear and I couldn't help
glancing at the conspicuous bulge in his boxer shorts.  Nor did I overlook
the little peaks his nipples made in his snug T-shirt.  I still had a
partial hard-on from talking to Zack, but, luckily, I had the phone book in
my lap.

"It's all yours, Dad."

"You all right?" he asked, scratching his beard and looking at me
suspiciously.

"Sure."

I managed to put down the directory and turn my back before he saw the
bulge in my jeans.  I hurried upstairs to shower.  As I lathered my body, I
pictured Zack and my father standing side by side.  They wouldn't be
mistaken for twins, but the definitely could've passed for brothers.  I had
seen my dad naked a million times and envied the oversized endowment I,
unfortunately, hadn't inherited.

Dad was also uncut, which was something else I envied.  Every time I saw my
father's fat tube steak, with extra overhang of fleshy foreskin, I cursed
the fates that had bequeathed me an average -- if thick -- circumcised,
6-incher.  Hopefully, Zack had fared better.  Yes, sir, I thought as I
lathered my balls and stroked my soapy dick.  If big Zack has anything
between his muscular thighs like my dad, I am going to have a terrific
afternoon!


End of part one.

(Comments gladly accepted at: shadowader43072@hotmail.com)