Date: Fri, 05 Mar 1999 05:58:39 GMT
From: Joe Camp <idc90@hotmail.com>
Subject: An Old Man's Life

An Old Man's Life 2
Codes b/g M/F M/b M/t M/t/t M/M/M  love story (mast, oral,
anal, incest)
By idc90@hotmail.com

  Warning:  The following story is a work of fiction. It
is a fantasy.  It never happened, except in the author's
imagination.  This story contains sex between children, a
man and a boy, male teens, and a man and two teenage boys.
The author does not encourage or condone sex between adults
and children. If you are underage, or this is illegal where
you are, you already know what your supposed to do.  Find
something else and delet this file.  If this kind of story
turns you off, find something else. If your looking for a
story that has someone having sex ever other sentence, this
one is not it.

  This is a love story between an older man and a boy.  This
story starts with the man as a boy, and follows his life into
old age, looking into the hidden corners to find how he could
love a boy, and ends with the teens as men.

  Fiction and Real Life: This story is nearly all fiction.
The experiences described between the boy at age 7 and his
9 year old sister, are true.  I saw the locker room scene in
the 8th grade, and it happened as described. The masturbation
scene using a rayon bedspread is loosely based on my own experience.
All portions of the Army experiences are true, and based on my own
service in the early 1960's. Past that point, it's all fiction.
My apologies to the City of Houston for placing the rent boy pickup
point there. I have never been to Houston, but most big cities
have an area as described where men go looking for sex.
The characters in this story engage in unprotected sex.
That's not real life if you want to live to old age.  The
characters are a product of my imagination, and can't catch
anything unless I want them to. Any resemblance of characters
to an actual person is purely coincidental.

  The author retains the copyright of this story.  Placing this
story on a commercial web site without the authors permission is
a violation of that copyright.

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                                Me

  It's Bob's 22nd Birthday today, and we always celebrate our
anniversary at the same time.  The guys are taking us out to a
gay club tonight.  I don't really know what to expect, because
I've  never been to one before.  I don't care for the night
life, or for what passes as music these days, and haven't been
to any night club in over 40 years.  I don't know how I'm
going to feel about seeing men dancing and kissing on each
other.  I know we do it, but only at home.  Maybe I just spent
too many years hidden deep in the closet.  I don't like the gay
bar hopping life style, and I pray my men never get involved
with it.  I'm scared.  I've been thinking of the last eleven
years all day, and I finally want to tell about them.  I spent
many, many years living the straight life.  I was well past
middle age, before I found myself.  I had everyone fooled,
including me.

  It wasn't too many more years to retirement age, and I had
been hoping for an early retirement, so I could travel. Then
Bobby came into my life.  I don't think you could call my life
normal up to that time, but I was content most of the time, just
being alone.  I had periods of empty arms loneliness, but they
would always pass, and I was for the most part contented.  Even
though I had been married, I had long ago learned to live my
life without ever knowing what it is like to be loved as a man,
or knowing what it's like to have someone that wanted my love.
I had never known the passion of a lover.  I know I'm not the
best looking person around.  The little Indian blood I have in
me all showed up in my face and hair.  I have a heavy blocky
face, with high cheek bones, and I scar easily.  Every blemish I
ever had as a teen left it's deep pitted mark, and I had a lot
of blemishes.  My hair, while brown, is heavy, straight, corse
and thick, like my great-great grandfather's black Indian hair.

  I was the youngest of two kids, and I came from a home that
should have split up when I was born.  I didn't know about most
of the things my father did until later in life, but he was an
alcoholic, a child molester, and I have reason to believe a Bi
sexual.  Friday night was payday, and at our house it was never
looked forward to.  If he came home at all, we could plan on his
being drunk, mad about something, and hitting on someone,
usually it was my mother, and often times he would be broke.  My
father never sexually molested me, but he did my sister when she
was 9.  As for me, he just avoided me.  I don't remember getting
a hug from him until I was 20 years old, and then only because I
gave him one, and I don't think I ever got a kiss from him, or
had him tell me he loved me.  My mother was in most things a
strong woman.  She was a church goer, and I don't want you to
get me wrong.  I believe the bible is true, and says what it
means.  Trouble comes along when people try to interpret it to
get it to say something it doesn't.  I believe the Bible is
true, and will make every point that is to be followed, in two
or more places.  Mom's main failing was in not kicking my old
man out.

  I knew fairly early in life that I didn't have much interest
in having sex with someone else.  When I was 7 years old, my
sister taught me what our father had taught her.  We had big
walk in closets, and we snuck into one of them one day.  She
undressed and showed me her pussy, taking her fingers and
pulling the lips open.  She told me to get undressed, which
didn't take me long at all, as all I had on was a pair of shorts
and my undies. My little 2 inch dick was as hard as it had ever
been.  I laid down on top of her like she told me, and worked my
dick against her pussy.  I was surprised when it just slipped
right in.  I started pumping with my hips like she told me to.
It felt kind of nice for the first few minutes, but my little
cut dick was getting sore fast.  After a few more minutes,
she told me I was supposed to push hard into her and pee inside
her (she didn't know anymore than I did about cum).  I was
getting real sore by that time, and my little dick was still so
hard it hurt, so it was hard to start a flow of pee.  I was
finally able to let a little pee out, and she was happy.  I was
happy she said we could stop.  We played grownup a few more
times, but I know now that neither of us ever had a climax.  My
sister soon lost interest in her little brother when she found
out that boys older than her, with bigger dicks, liked to play
the grownup game too.

  Starting the 8th grade was hard for me.  Up until then, we
didn't take showers after PE class.  I was very shy when I was
13, and had never undressed in front of other guys.  At home, I
didn't even come out of my room without my shirt on, and was
embarrassed to even wear shorts.  The only nudity acceptable in
our house, was bare feet.

  To make matters worse, my 8th grade PE class had to share
the showers and locker room with a 10th grade class. I didn't
mind checking out the other guys, but I didn't want them
checking me out.  It didn't do my ego a lot of good to see
that I was one of the youngest in the class, and was also one
of the few that still saw a little boy when I looked down at
myself.  I'm sure most locker rooms are like ours was.  It was
OK to check someone out if you didn't look like you were doing
it.  I learned early in the year to keep my eyes moving. One of
the 8th graders (not me) got caught by a 10th grader looking
too long.  The 10th grader yelled "FAG!" and ran over to the
poor kid, jumped up on the bench, and started shaking his 5
inch dick in the kids face and asking at the top of his voice
if the kid wanted some of it.  The kid said no, and you could
tell by his voice he was trying hard not to cry.  The 10th
grader told him he better keep his eyes to himself.  All the
poor kid could do was say sorry and get out of there as fast
as he could. I always felt sorry for that kid the rest of the
year.  He wasn't in our school the next year.

  The time spent in the locker rooms was hard for me all the
rest of the time I was in school.  I was always torn between
wanting to check out all the guys, and being afraid I would
pop a boner or get caught looking, so I always got out of
there as fast as I could.

  I finally started puberty just before I started the 9th
grade. I had a rayon bedspread on my bed, and one night after
I had taken my shower, I laid down on the bed before putting
my boxers back on. It was a hot summer night, and the cool
smoothness of the cover against my dick and balls felt great.
I started rubbing myself against the bed, and in just a few
seconds the most wonderful feeling came over me.  It started
deep inside, and made my nuts feel great, my dick had tingling
feelings I had never before felt.  Before I knew what was
happening, wave after wave of pleasure washed over me, and my
dick started shooting out a white cream.  I was sure that it
was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to anyone.
I started doing it every morning and every night after that.
Was I ever proud of every single hair that started showing up.
Sex was never talked about in our house.  It was just done, so
I never got The Talk.  Everything I knew about sex, was what
my sister had showed me, and what I had picked up on the
school yard. This was long before sex education had come to
the schools, and you really wouldn't believe some of the mis-
information I heard.   I wasn't very bright then, I guess the
stains gave away what I was doing.  It wasn't long before my
bedspread disappeared, and I never saw it again. That's when
I learned how to jack off, which I thought was great too.

  I never did get interested in girls all the time I was in
high school.  The most I ever did with anyone else, was a
little show and tell with some of the younger kids in the
neighborhood.  As long as I could jack off once or twice a
day, I was happy.  I never even thought about having sex
with another guy.  Only Homo's and Fag's did THAT.  I never
heard the word Gay until years later.  At that time, to be
gay meant only that you were having fun.

  I had failed the 9th grade and had to repeat it, so instead
of graduating at 17 like I would have, I still had 4 more
years of school left when I turned 15.  I wasn't bitter about
failing, because I had been expecting to fail ever since the
2nd grade.  I guess I was one of those the teachers just
passed.  A new school was built near our house so I went
there for the second time I was in the 9th grade.  I got to
check out a new group of 9th grade boys.   If you haven't
figured it out, I didn't do very well in school.  Living with
an alcoholic father, and not knowing if there would be money
for groceries next week, didn't make for a stable home life,
and I thought I had it really rough.  My mother had gone to
work at a time when mothers were expected to stay at home. I
turned 17 shortly after I finished the 10th grade with C's
and D's.  Two days after my birthday, I enlisted in the Army,
just to get away from home.  I didn't have any trouble
getting my folks to sign for me, as they would rather I not
be there anyway, and I still had 2 more years to get through
high school.

  The Army was a shock to me. I learned I was really a spoilt,
ignorant kid, and had to do some fast growing up.  All during
this time, my sex life consisted of jacking off at least once
a day. During Basic Training, just living with 40 other guys
in the same room, made jacking off hard to do without getting
caught. The showers were just one big open room, and the toilets
didn't have doors on them.  If you tried to jack off in your
bunk, the guy on top or bottom would know what you were doing.
But, if you try hard enough, you can always find a way to take
care of yourself.  Living with a whole bunch of guys all running
around nude or in their boxers can be interesting.  I still had
no thought of having sex with any of them, even though there
were a LOT of cute guys in the platoon.  I am now sure there
were a few gays in the barracks, but everyone acted homophobic.
A few weeks after we started basic training, it was whispered
around that 2 men from another platoon in our company, had been
caught in the showers, late at night, doing THINGS to each
other.  No one ever saw them again.  It was never explained
to me what they were doing, and I just assumed I was supposed
to know.  I didn't, but soon was told how guys can have sex
together.  At first, I don't think I really believed a guy
could get his penis up another guys ass.

  I was sent to another post for Advanced Individual Training.
If you looked at the barracks, you wouldn't have known I was
on a different post.  The major change was that I had a whole
new group of men to check out.  One of the men in my new
platoon was a good looking black man about 19 or 20.  He
wasn't overly muscular, but was tall with a good build.  He
had a dark honey brown color, and smooth complection, oh, he
was very easy on the eyes.  The type of guy you just knew the
girls went crazy over.  Over the months, I would notice him
looking at me like he was trying to figure something out. We
would talk once in a while, and I came to know him as a kind
hearted person, but he never asked me what he wanted to know,
and I never asked him what it was.  Those were the days long
before the Civil Rights Movement, and the blacks mostly hung
out with other blacks, and the whites mostly hung out with
other whites.  No real reason for it, that's just the way it
was.  There were no blacks in the area I grew up in, and no
one talked about the subject. There was no thought on my part
about it.  I knew I was against segregation, because I had
always believed people are just people.  I might not have
known any blacks while growing up, but I knew Mexican-
Americans, and Indians, and called some of them my friends.
There were some whites I didn't like, just as I later learned
there are some blacks I don't like.  The first time I ever saw
a whites only sign, was on my first pass while in basic training
in Louisiana.  It was a shock to me, even though I knew in the
back of my mind it happened.  The sign was small, and in the
corner of the window of a small cafe.  None of us was hungry,
and hadn't planned on going in anyway.  I was with a group of
GI's, and we were all white, but I thought at the time that if
there had been a black with us and he was my friend, I would
have gone with him.  The last night of A.I.T., I woke up late
in the night realizing I all of a sudden had three hands, and
that the two I could control were under my head.  But there
was a third hand in my boxers playing with my ass hole. I woke
up enough to realize it was the good looking black.  I was
very tired, so I just gently moved his hand out of my shorts,
and went back to sleep.  When I woke up the next morning, I
wanted to find him and let him know that I wasn't mad or upset,
and that I wouldn't tell anyone. I also wanted to tell him I
had nothing against him, I just wasn't into guys, but if I was,
it would be with him as I thought he was cute.  When I asked
where he was, I was told that they had started handing out the
new orders at 5am, and that he was already gone.  Like so many
chances in my life, I had let it pass, and I never saw him
again.  Williams, wherever you are, I'm sorry I didn't explain.
My new orders sent me to Germany.

  While the Army was slowly changing, it was still part of the
Old Army when I was in.  That meant a G.I. was expected to be a
heavy drinker, at the least.  Between the ages of 17 and 18, I
became a very heavy drinker, and could cuss with the best of
them.  Even though my father was an alcoholic, I had never so
much as tasted a beer, or ever said a cuss word, while I lived
at home (I know, I led a very sheltered life).  I got totally
drunk three times during that year, but I learned I could out
drink most people before it affected me.  The last time I ever
got drunk was on my 18th birthday.  It was then I decided I
didn't want to be like my father, and although I don't have
anything against someone taking a drink, I now rarely drink at
all.  I do have a lot against someone who gets drunk and is mean
or deprives their family because of it.  I also decided at that
time, that I didn't want to have anything to do with any drugs.
One good thing I did while in the Army, was to finish high
school and get my GED.

  Being the macho Infantry G.I., I did decide on my 18th
birthday, that it was time for me to lose my virginity (I don't
count experimenting with my sister).  I got a two day pass to
Frankfort, and went to find me a whore.  It didn't take long if
you walked into any bar in Frankfort.  I spotted a young woman
and after a short talk we agreed on a price.  We went to a hotel
where I got a room by the hour.  I let her know that I knew what
to do, but that I was a virgin.  That really pleased her.  We
got undressed, all but her bra, and she laid down on the bed,
raising her knees up and spreading her legs wide.  She humped
her pussy at me a few times and held her arms open to me.  I
gently laid down, resting my weight on my knees and elbows.
German whores were very clean then and had to have a doctor's
checkup each week, so I didn't even think of using a condom
(don't try that today).  I entered her slowly with my six and a
half inches, and got a steady humping going.  After a while, she
reached behind her, and took off her bra.  She pulled my head
down onto her right tit, and I was soon sucking hard on the
nipple. Soon, she was moving her pelvis in a circle, all the
while humping in time with me.  I thought that felt really
good. She asked me how much I had to drink that night. I told
her just the one drink while we talked in the bar.  She sped
up our humping, and I matched her.  Soon sweat was glistening
off our bodies.  I started to feel the familiar tightening in
my pigeon egg sized nuts, as they got ready to shoot my load
of cum.  I finally felt the cum boiling out of my nuts as I
shoved hard into her hot pussy, and my body jerked as I
grunted with each shot.  She pulled my head down into the
valley of her breasts, and there I rested while I came down
from my high.  She seemed to make a big deal out of my taking
over 30 minutes to cum.  At the time, I just thought she was
trying to make me feel good, I didn't know that most of her
clients took 10 to 20 minutes, and I now think she thought
I would be done real fast.  I thought the whole experience
had been pleasant, but not any better then Mister Thumb and
his four sons felt.  And it sure wasn't the earth moving
experience I had been lead to believe it should have been.
So for the last two years I was in the Army, it was back to
jacking off.

  After I got out of the Army, I went back to my parents'
home because I didn't know anywhere else to go.  I still
didn't know what I wanted to do with my life, and was just
drifting from one day to the next.  My sister had married
a man 20 years older than herself, and had moved to Tucson,
Arizona.  He came to El Paso, where we were living at the
time, and asked me to go back to Tucson and stay with them
and their kids a while, so I ended up in Tucson.