Date: Wed, 13 Oct 2004 15:12:11 -0700 (PDT)
From: Bill Thomas <hottoppop@yahoo.com>
Subject: Senior Moment, Part 6

I thought about telling Mike what I had seen and
decided not to.  He had started dinner by the time I
returned.  I went to him, and from behind, hugged him
hard and kissed his neck.  I told him, without sex
this time, that I loved him.  Turning and looking at
me, he knew something had upset me.  Being smart, he
did not press the issue.
We continued the tasks of meal preparation working
smoothly together.  It occurred to me that we had, in
just two days, become very familiar with each other.
After eating, Mike went back to work and I cleaned up.
 Sometime around 8 PM, he came down from the loft and
began rummaging through the fridge.  I turned off the
TV and told him that if he was hungry that I had
something he could munch on.

With soft laughter, he took my hand, shut off the
lights and led me to the bedroom.  I wanted to be led,
believe me.  As before, we started with kissing,
hugging and stroking. We all know that there are only
so many ways to begin foreplay so  I'll not bore you.
As the tension built, images of the beach scene I had
witnessed kept flashing through my mind.  The
brutality of Charlie's assault on Paul had frightened,
disgusted and greatly excited me all at the same time.
 I saw a different man then I had known; he was
someone other than the good friend and confident that
I had experienced over the last 20 months.   I also
was angry.  I was angry at myself for being interested
in cock sizes, for being excited by watching one guy
fuck another guy and by my being in bed with a kid
young enough to be my grandson.  I was angry at
Charlie for his having fallen off the pedestal that I
had placed him on; he was no longer my super-hero.  I
had always thought of myself as kind, caring,
compassionate, honorable, a boy scout and now I was
just another dirty old man and for all intents and
purposes, a pedophile i thought.

My "love making" became more and more excited and
demanding.  I'm not sure if Mike became Paul, or if in
my mind, I became Charlie; or was just I an angry
"DAD" punishing his son.   My cock driving against
Mike's firm belly became increasingly more insistent
and my hands on his pecs began squeezing and my thumb
and forefingers began pinching and twisting nipples.
They had minds of their own it seemed.  My tongue
pried its way between his lips and began thrusting
down his throat as far as it could reach.  Mike, by
this time, was aware of a different atmosphere.  He
did not pull away or ask me to slow down or stop.
Lust took over his facial expression.

"Turn over boy, put that ass in the air!" I ordered.
He quickly complied and buried his face in the pillow.
 "Take your hands and spread your cheeks!"  My cock
was slick with pre-cum and I rammed it into Mike's
waiting hole.  I hit bottom on one thrust and he
collapse onto the bed, he gulped air, and buried his
face in the pillow.  I heard a soft moan, his body
deemed to shiver.  I guess I was aware that I had
caused him pain.  I was in pain; I wanted Mike to feel
some of it.  I pounded my cock deep, fast and hard
into his stretched ass.  Slowly Mike began to respond;
he began meeting my thrusts with his own.  I slapped
him not too gently on the shoulder.  "Lie still!  Lie
still!"  I did not want him to enjoy this.  Again and
again I thrust myself into him.  The need to climax
became more and insistent yet relief seemed to draw
father and father away.  Finally in frustration or
whatever, I pulled away, out from him and jerked
myself off.  My cum spewed all over Mike's back and
ass.  He turned his head so that he could look up at
me.  "Don't look at me." I whispered, I turned and
went out into the dark living area and stood facing
the marsh and the ocean beyond the cold, closed glass
door.  Tears ran down my cheeks.

I heard Mike coming up behind me.  "I'm sorry your
angry at me.  What did I do wrong?  Please Dad, don't
be mad at me.?  Talk to me.  Don't leave me alone; I
never want to be alone again."  He hugged me to him.

"It's not you alone; it's no more your fault anymore
than it's mine or even Charlie's."  I'm sorry I hurt
you."   I turned to him and folded him in my arms.
With his being that much taller, my head rested on his
well-muscled chest.  He stroked my back, and then
kissed me gently.
I kissed him back.  Damn, damn, damn, I needed him in
my life; I did not want to be alone either.

"You didn't hurt me all that much.  I kind of liked
it." Mike said softly.
"I wouldn't like it like that all the time, but it was
different and very exciting."  And laughing once
again, he took hold of my sticky, limp cock and pulled
me back towards the bed.

"We need to talk." and I put my hand on his, trying to
lift it off of me.  He then told me in a much more
grown-up voice that he would rather we do that in the
morning and all he wanted was for me to spoon him so
that we could go to sleep.  When we climbed back into
bed, my hip settled in a pool of boy juice.  Lying
there still, Mike had shot his load.  I smiled to
myself, maybe he did like it that way, harsh, and it
occurred to me that probably Paul had liked it too.

On Friday, Mike and I had easy gentle sex in the
morning, made breakfast together and he went to work
up in the loft.  I took my coffee out onto the deck
and found a sheltered corner in which to relax.  I
took off my shirt and laid face down on the lounge.
Shortly I heard Charlie and dog padding across it and,
in a moment or two,  I opened my eyes to see his body
bent over and his face inches away from mine.  With a
scowl on his otherwise hansom face, he told me that it
was not gentlemanly to spy on others when they were
making love  I responded that I was sure I had not
been watching two gentlemen and that I also doubted
that there was much love involved in the brutal
fucking I had witnessed.  I asked him if he spelled
lust and love the same way?

His fingers traced the ridge of my spine and he said
something to the effect that I had much to learn.  I
smiled a bit and answered, "Don't ever ask me to make
a bet with you, buddy.  I have no desire to pay the
winner."  Removing his hand, Charlie laughed and sat
on the floor near me.  He began to tell me a bit of
history with Paul.  He explained that he and Paul
often engaged in "rough sex."  I had an idea what that
was having recently experimented a bit with it myself.
 That I did not tell Charlie.  Paul had been assigned
to Charlie's unit when he graduated from the academy
and served under him until Charlie retired and then
with Dave, another Marine buddy.  I asked and Charlie
told me that the unit focused on embassy safety,
secure communications and espionage.  Dave, the other
man in the bird the day before,  was a colonel and was
due back Saturday morning. Charlie wanted me to meet
him and the two other men he was bringing with him.
Charlie continued explaining his relationships in a
guarded way at first.  I gathered that Dave, 41 years
old, had been at Norwich with Alex, Charlie's half
brother.  I did not even know Charlie had any living
relatives.  It seems that Charlie's folks had divorced
immediately after WW II and that at some point his dad
had married a woman just a few years older than
Charlie himself.  I knew his dad was dead but had no
idea that Charlie had a stepmother and that they had a
warm relationship.  Charlie, for the first time in
almost two years, talked openly about himself.  Yet,
there was something he was not telling me; that I
knew.

After an hour or two, Mike appeared and asked if we
two old men wanted some coffee.  Charlie rose, strode
to the door, but his hands on Mike's waist and lifted
Mike easily up off the floor and spun him around over
his head.  Mike laughed like an awe-struck child.
When Charlie put him down, I went in to make coffee
and the two of them started chatting again like they
had the day before.   Their conversation about the
ancient Cyrillic alphabets and characters, and
possible code writing and breaking techniques left me
out.  I dozed off.  Mike woke me to tell me lunch was
ready, Charlie was long gone, I guess.  Mike soon was
back at work and the rest of the day and the the
evening passed without any major problems.  I did yard
work and then read while Mike worked the keyboard up
in the loft.  We made sweet, gentle love after going
to bed for the evening.

Saturday morning was more of the same; breakfast, love
making and then a late lunch.  I noticed a change in
Mike's behavior.  His shoulders slumped, his head was
down and there were few smiles; he was again the boy
that had come home with me a few days before.  "I'm
going back to the cottage." was all he told me.
Answering my why question, "I need my bike."  Again I
asked why.  "I have to go to church."  Now I knew I
had a problem.  I offered to drive him and he
reluctantly accepted.

When we arrived in the parking lot, Mike directed me
to the side and asked me to let him out.  Just as he
opened the door, a middle aged priest came down the
steps of the side entrance.  "Good Michael, I need
your help.  Father Mac is ill. I drove over to your
place now, but would you not be missing when I needed
you, boy."  Mike introduced me to Father Liam Sullivan
who then greeted me in a deep voice accented with a
delightful brogue.  Mike explained quickly that there
had been some problems at his aunt's cottage and that
I had taken him in.  Father Liam urged Mike to hurry
and get his vestments on; that mass was soon to start.
 Mike hesitated.  Turning to me, "Now won't you be
staying Bill and then you can join me for a taste of
the creature.  Just a wee one; I have a wedding to do
at 7:00."  Turning to Mike, he urged, "Hurry now
Michael, and won't you be helping me again at the
wedding and then the masses in the morning."  Hurrying
off himself, I watched Mike; he did as he was told.  I
sat in the last row and left when communion was
served.  I waited in the hall and after the last
parishioner left, Father Liam and Mike came to me.  I
was invited for a light supper as well but declined
that and the drink.  The good Father said that he knew
Mike had made plans with me and that he was sure I
would understand his not being able to go with me.
Mike said something to the effect that helping Father
Liam was part of his job.  Charlie would be
disappointed that Mike would not be joining us and I
knew better than to be late.

I arrived back at Charlie's and was introduced to
Colonel Dave, to retired Colonel, Frank, and his
business partner and friend Nate.  The last two
designed programs and adapted hardware for Colonel
Dave's unit was all that I was told regarding the
three men.  Paul lingered in the background and soon
offered a round of drinks.  When I was alone for just
a moment, Charlie asked about Mike.  Swallowing an
almost full glass of straight scotch and very little
water, and with a cough induced by the high-powered
alcohol, I replied "The church has him."
Tears filled my eyes.  I blamed them on the whiskey.
Charlie frowned and told Paul to bring me another
drink, a double.  I proceeded to get very drunk very
quickly.  I did not drink often and could not remember
the last time I had felt like that.  Sometime shortly
after dinner, around 8:30 I think, I  nodded off and
then spilled something all over myself.  Charlie
called Paul over and told him to take me home, clean
me out, clean me up, and stay with me till Paul
thought it safe to leave me alone.  His face showing
keen disappointment, Paul acknowledged the order,
"Sir, Yes Sir, I'll do as ordered, Sir." This was not
the duty Paul had been planning on.  I think that he
and the other guests were intent on having a small
orgy from some of the conversation I had heard when
they thought I had passed out.  Charlie just smirked
and blew him a kiss,  Charlie was under the influence;
such an overt gesture was completely out of character.

Paul left the room and returned shortly dressed in
fatigue sweat shirt and shorts.  He picked me up like
I was a sack of flower, slung me over his shoulder and
headed for the door.  I insisted, "Put me down, you
big bastard, put me down!"  The guys broke out in
gales of laughter.  In order to keep from sliding off
of his shoulder, I grabbed onto the bottom edges of
his shorts.  They rode up quickly and exposed his
magnificent ass muscles.  I hung on with one hand and
began slapping
his cheeks with the other.  "Put me down, you ox, put
me down."

Paul smirked at the men watching him. "This might not
be too bad after all."  And with that, we went out
into the night.  I again grabbed on with both hands,
but this time I held onto flesh, not fabric.   On
entering my place, Paul asked where the bath was and I
pointed.  He sat me on the throne and immediately
removed what few clothes he had on and then began
stripping me.  I tried pushing his hands away.
Laughing, he told me, "Why don't you behave; I'm going
to do as Charlie ordered with or without your help.
He's a man to be obeyed, you saw that the other day."
  I stood when it came to taking off my slacks and
then I sat again when he removed my shoes and socks.
By then, I was feeling sick to my stomach.  Indicating
the need for the sink, I stood and then began to slide
down.  Paul grabbed me with one arm and,  "Open your
mouth!" he ordered.  I complied only to have him shove
two rather long fingers down my throat.   It took only
a second and the first part of Charlie's orders was
completed.  Paul turned me and sat me back on the
hopper.  Reaching down, he took a vial of something
from the pocket of his shorts, snapped it and told me
to swallow.  Knowing now that resistance was futile, I
did what I was told.
Paul adjusted the shower heads in the large stall
shower and then pulled me in with him.  He held my
back to his chest and then began to wash me all over
with his one free hand.  He started with my hair and
went slowly down my chest.  He squeezed my man tit and
I instinctively pushed ass back, hoping to free myself
from the pain.  I felt a hard cock slap up against my
lower back.  being 6" shorter than Paul, That's about
where it landed.  His hand continued lower and lower
and soon he was washing my cock and balls.  These he
did with exquisite tenderness; I was soon at full
staff and enjoying every second of what was being done
to me in the name of cleanliness.  I was pretty much
sober by then.  Paul turned me around and told me to
put my hands on the shower wall.  He began at the top
of my head; his hands made soft swirls all they way
down to my ass.  Then Paul knelt behind me and I felt
his tongue in my ass crack.  His big hands were busy
too; one was stroking my cock and the was on my belly,
massaging, playing with my fur.  I pushed my ass back
into his face, wanting more of his tongue in me.  It
then dawned on me where all of this was leading.  I
turned around and Paul stood and stuck his tongue in
my mouth.

"You'll have to rape me if you want my ass; I don't
want to be fucked by you or anyone else."  I managed
to choke out.

"I've never forced anyone; I'm an officer as you know
but I understand that you told Charlie that neither of
us is a gentle man."  He laughed.
Pulling his head down to mine, I stuck my tongue into
his mouth and
and grabbed onto his cock.  Damn, I wanted sex with
this man, this magnificent man.  He lifted me into his
arms and carried me to the Taking a towel, he began to
rub softly on my body.  I relaxed almost immediately
and soon began to moan softly.  For such a huge man,
his touch was exquisitely delicate.  My body was soon
on fire and my mind also was on fire with lust,
desire.   My cock was rigid.  Paul wet it with his
tongue and then climbed over me.  He rose up and
placed my cock head at his ring and then just took me
inside of him without any hesitation or difficulty.
Paul then began to flex his ass muscles in a slow
steady rhythm while his hands played softly with my
chest.  He bent over and began licking my face with
his long tongue.  He was an expert at doing these
things, of that I was sure.  I began to arch my back,
meeting thrust of ass with thrust of cock.  Soft
screams came from deep within my soul; Mike excited me
but not like this.  It took only minutes before cum
spurted from my cock.  Paul could tell what was
happening; he sunk down on my cock and stayed
absolutely still.  Still that is except for the
milking sensations of his pelvic muscles and then,
without saying or doing anything else, he shot man
juice all over me.  Rope after rope of hot white cum
shot from his thick, throbbing cock.  I felt it on my
face, my chest, my belly.  Paul again bent down and
taking some on his tongue, fed his nectar to me.  My
head tossed from side to side, trying to get more of
him inside my mouth.

Just then, headlights from a car coming up the drive
shattered the passion and the afterglow.  Paul took a
robe from the hook on the door, Mike's robe and tossed
me mine.  "I don't know who that is."  I managed to
gasp as I came back down to earth.  By the time car
stopped, we were at the slider.  I watched as Father
Liam walked around to the passenger door opened it and
then struggled to get Mike out of the car.  Mike
slipped to the ground and Paul, barefooted and just
barely covered by my robe, went out to help.  I heard
Father tell Paul that Mike had had too much to drink.
Father followed Paul in.

"Michael had to get drunk to tell me what has
happened.  I could not risk having him stay with me,
nor did he want to.  Indeed, Bill, I have to tell you
that I am a gay priest but I've been celibate for 35
years;  I am true to my vows."  His brogue had almost
disappeared it seemed.  I'll want to talk to you both
on Monday morning, I'll be here just after mass."
Introducing himself to Paul who was holding Mike in
his arms, just like a baby, and glancing down at
Paul's exposed body, Father Liam shook his head and
left.  Paul looked at me, shook his head, and headed
for the shower.

Now awake, Mike looked at me, and with tears in his
eyes, cried out,
"Dad, make him take off my robe, it's mine.  You gave
that to me!"

"Don't be such a damn cry baby, stud.  I', gonna take
it off and I'm gonna take all your shit off too."
Paul grinned and grunted as he put Mike on the toilet.

I honestly did not know if I should laugh or cry.  I
did know that I had a mess to deal with.