On Turning Forty by Hankster

On Turning Forty

by: Hankster

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It’s very upsetting and hard for me to believe that I am standing here primping and preening in front of a mirror, preparing to celebrate my fortieth birthday. Where have all the years gone?

In a few minutes my two best friends, Hal and Les, are picking me up and taking me out to dinner. It’s sad for me to admit, but I don’t have any other friends to ask to celebrate the event with me. This is a lot different than my twentieth birthday celebration.

Way back then, my friend Carl made me a big party in his apartment. It’s funny, but I can barely remember Carl. I wonder whatever became of him. There had to be close to fifty young men there. I knew some of them casually. The party got very out of hand, and after a few drinks, all the guys were naked and sucking and fucking all over the place.

I got pretty drunk myself and I don’t remember much about the party. I do remember feeling happy that I was gay, and that I was able to enjoy all this sexual freedom. Nobody there was suffering from repressed sexual desires; that was for sure.

I woke up the next morning on Carl’s couch. The first thing I heard was a vacuum cleaner. I turned and there was Les vacuuming around me.

“Did I wake you, Terry?” he asked in a tone that clearly said, “If I did, I don’t give a shit.”

“S’allright,” I mumbled, unable to speak clearly. I suddenly realized I was naked, and I covered my morning wood with my hand. I can’t imagine why I would do that, after the lusty orgy of the night before.

Les laughed at the sight of me trying to cover my dick. “I put the only unclaimed clothing I could find on the bed in the guest room” he said. “I guess it belongs to you.” I jumped up and ran to the bathroom to pee. Then I found my clothes and got dressed.

When I got out of the bedroom Les stopped vacuuming, and said. “Hal is making breakfast in the kitchen. I think maybe we should wake Carl, and sober him up. We have plenty of hot coffee.”

“Who’s Hal and who are you?” I asked, still trying to clear my head.

“My name is Les. Hal and I just met each other for the first time last night, and we did what could have taken several dates under normal circumstances. The party got our juices boiling, and boy did we have a great time. But where are my manners? We weren’t properly introduced to the birthday boy last night,” Les said, as he extended his hand to shake mine.

We went into the kitchen. Les introduced me to Hal, and then he went to wake up Carl. All Hal prepared for breakfast was orange juice and lots of coffee. Good man!

“How come you and Les stayed and are cleaning up, while everyone else went home?” I asked. I was really curious to know. If I hadn’t conked out, I am sure that I would have gone home with one of the boys myself.

“Frankly, we knocked ourselves out having fantastic sex, and we just woke up about an hour ago. We decided we might as well stay and help Carl clean up. We owe him for introducing us. Do you believe in fate?”

“Hell no.”

“Well, I do now. Les is just the guy I always dreamed of meeting. I want so much to get out of this rat race and settle down.”

“Not me. I never want to settle down. I’m having too much fun.”

Later that day, Hal and Les drove me home, and although they were only a couple of years older than I was, they sort of took me under their wing. We have remained good friends for twenty years. It’s funny, but like I said; I don’t know what happened to Carl.

As I preen in front of the mirror, I have to admit that I look every bit of my forty years. Sure I work out, and my body is solid and toned, but the small lines growing on my face, and the bit of darkness under my eyes, betray my age. Hal and Les, on the other hand, are amazing. At forty-two, I swear they still look twenty-two. Now Hal has a couple of extra pounds, but Les has always been rather lean, and he has stayed that way. Maybe being partnered and in love is the secret to finding the fountain of youth. If it is, I hate to admit it.

The doorbell rings, and I let Hal and Les in. Man, they are so handsome, and so young looking. Maybe it is the fact that I am entering middle age, but for the first time in my life I envy what they have together, and I have fears about my future. I am truly growing tired of the cruising and the one night stands. I have to admit that the pickings are getting slimmer. The twinkies aren’t so interested in me anymore. I am handsome and buff enough, but let’s face it. I’m old meat now. It shames me to admit it, but lately I have paid for sex a few times with young men. I just can’t get hot for anyone out of his twenties. Thinking about the future sends chills up and down my spine.

“Aren’t you ready yet?” Hal asks?

“You look just fine,” Les adds. “Let’s get going.”

At dinner, Les ceremoniously hands me a birthday gift. I tear open the wrappings and find a gross of lubricated Trojans.

“That should last you a week or two,” Les laughs facetiously.

“Very funny,” I sneer back.

“Well we thought it was a great gift, since you refuse to settle down,” Hal says, putting in his two cents.

Over the years, they have not given up introducing me to likely candidates for me ‘to settle down’ with. More times than I can remember they have told me how they fear for my health. For that matter they fear for my safety as well. Every time there is an incident reported in the paper about an older gay man, who is beaten and robbed by a young trick, they bring it to my attention. It never scares me. I am strong enough to take care of myself. Besides we always go to my place, not to the trick’s.

So I am not surprised when Hal asks if I am free Friday evening. They are having a little dinner party at their place, and would love for me to come. Their idea of a little dinner party is them, me and a fourth dinner guest, who is usually a potential ‘boyfriend’ for me.

We have been through this many times before. I enjoy spending time with them, and Hal is a wonderful gourmet cook. Afterwards I always avoid seeing the fourth (usually older) person ever again, and so I have no problem accepting their invitation.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Les says. “There will only be five of us, and nobody is trying to fix anyone up. The other two guys are coupled. They live up the hall from us.”

I wonder if Hal and Les have given up on me. I am saddened at the thought of them abandoning me. I guess it all goes back to turning forty. I wonder if it’s as traumatic to other people, or if I am suffering alone.

At dinner, I am delighted to meet Elliot and Silvio, their up the hall gay neighbors. Both men are in their late forties or early fifties. They are both very handsome, even though they show their ages. I am relieved to realize that Hal and Les aren’t trying to fix me up for a change, but saddened at the same time. Anyway they know I prefer much younger men.

Hal and Les have a round dining room table. When they add a leaf or two, it becomes oval. They decide that five can sit comfortably without crowding, and so they don’t bother with adding leaves for their dinner party. I end up sitting between Silvio and Les for dinner.

Imagine my surprise, when during the appetizer of shrimp cocktail, Silvio puts his hand on my knee. I am sure nobody else can detect it. During the salad, his hand goes further up my thigh, and during the entrée he lays it fully on my package, which is rising by the second. I am frozen, because I don’t know how to handle this situation. I don’t want to make a scene and I am actually getting very aroused. This alone is a shock. Nobody over thirty has ever aroused me. Silvio is a hunky Italian Stallion. I could make an exception for him.

I reach under the table and lay a hand on his, encouraging him not to stop. His rubbing gets a little more urgent, and when I feel an orgasm starting to develop, I push his hand away. He understands and we smile at each other.

After dinner, I happen to go to the bar to pour myself an after dinner drink. Silvio is right behind me. He puts his card in my pocket and whispers, “Elliot and I have an open relationship. I’d like to see you again. The card I gave you is a business card. Call me at work anytime.” Then he walks away without pouring a drink for himself.

I lay awake all night thinking about what transpired at the dinner party. First off, I am convinced that Les and Hal have no idea of what Silvio has done under the table. That having been said, I have to figure out my own reaction to the incident.

The facts are rather simple:

1) Silvio, who is well over forty, arouses me like any eighteen year old can.

2) I learn that being a couple is not synonymous to being monogamous.

3) I really want to call Silvio. I want to experience what sex is like with someone who is practically a senior citizen, but who is still hot as blazes. I don’t even wonder what Elliot might think. Apparently Silvio has his permission.

I make up my mind to call Silvio at work, and I fall peacefully asleep. During the night I have erotic dreams about Silvio.

I stick to my decision and call Silvio Monday morning. We agree to meet for lunch at a restaurant convenient to both our offices, and there we will decide where and when we will go to fuck.

At lunch Silvio throws me a curve ball. “Elliot wants to join us in a threesome,” he says. “Can you come over tonight? We are two doors up from Les and Hal.”

I do not like threesomes. Unless it is well orchestrated, someone always gets left out. Somehow I have the impression that Elliot and Silvio have done this before, and this threesome will be well scripted. I accept his invitation.

I knock on their door, and Silvio opens it immediately. He is wearing a thin robe you can almost see through. It is obvious that he has nothing on under the robe. Elliot comes out of the bedroom similarly attired, or rather not attired. They put their arms around me in a group hug, and both their cocks feel hard against my thighs. One of them kisses me. He parts my lips with his tongue and we start French kissing. Then the other takes over.

“We have too much clothing on,” Elliot declares. That sounds strange coming from him, since both of them are nearly naked. They begin to undress me, and I give them a helping hand. When I am naked at last, they drop their robes. Elliot takes my hand, and I follow them to the bedroom. They have a huge bed. It appears to be bigger than a king size, and I have to wonder if it is custom made. Following them into the bedroom, I admire both their fifty year old bodies. They are very well preserved, but my eyes wander down to their rumps. Their asses have begun to sag a little. It kind of turns me off, and I fear that it may be happening to me as well.

Both of them stand about six feet tall. Neither one of them is cut, and they are both erect, at least seven inches each, and quite sturdy around. Silvio is very dark with curly black hair, which I am sure is dyed. Elliot is fair and his hair is a mixture of the original blond and more recent grey. Silvio’s eyes are almost black and Elliot’s eyes are blue-gray. I must admit they are an attractive pair, for older guys.

A strange thought occurs to me. I start to laugh inwardly. I hope they don’t ask me what I like to do in bed. That would be so sophomoric. At their age, they should know what a guy likes in bed.

I am not disappointed.

Silvio says, “Lie down on your back, Terry. Let us do all the work.” I am happy to oblige. I lie down on my back and instinctively I spread my legs. For no reason at all I close my eyes, and within seconds I feel two tongues bathing my body. They are all over me, but nothing touches my cock or my balls. I feel a tongue inside my ear, and then one is swabbing inside my thighs. Suddenly each of my toes is being ingested into someone’s mouth. Then my nipples are being suckled. I begin to squirm. I am going crazy. I keep my eyes closed so I don’t know who is doing what. When at last my cock is engulfed in someone’s mouth, I remain wondering who is doing the honors.

Suddenly I feel the tip of a fat cock playing with my lips. I open my mouth and take in a sweet smelling delicious cock, which I start sucking immediately. I am a great cocksucker, and my tricks usually cum quickly. Not this time. I have the pleasure of sucking for a long time before I sense the cock wants to unload in my mouth. I suddenly realize that my cock wants to do the same.

As soon as I come to this realization, whichever one of them is down on me, pushes my cock from his mouth, and whoever I am sucking, ejects himself from my mouth. They turn me over, and my bath begins anew. This time I feel a tongue probing my ass hole. Then I realize that it is two tongues. I purr like a kitten, not wanting this night to end. When I can bear it no longer, I feel two greased fingers, lubricating my ass hole. It is a seasoned receptacle, and I feel like yelling that this isn’t necessary, but I keep my eyes and my mouth shut, waiting….waiting.

At last I feel a body lying on top of me. A cock enters me and I take it in with no difficulty. I think that the cock has a condom on, but I am not sure. I hope I am right. I am being pumped steadily and quite hard from behind. I keep yelling that I want to be penetrated harder. Suddenly the cock leaves my ass, but another enters. It doesn’t feel much different so I don’t know if it’s a different benefactor or the same person. I now realize that I have gone beyond the turning point. I warn them that I am going to cum and the guy in my ass lets loose also. Now I know he is wearing a condom. He pulls out, and then his partner uses me to complete his task. The three of us lie in a heap on the big bed. We are completely exhausted. I glance at my watch which is still on my wrist. We have been playing for three hours. I cannot, repeat, cannot, believe it.

My young tricks cum in record time and usually go right home. This is a new way of making love for me. There is no rush to climax. Everybody takes his time and makes sure that everyone else is being properly treated. My fear that someone would be left out is non-existent. My mature partners have staying power way beyond any of the twinkies I have been involved with. What an eye opener. In that one night of love, I realize I have been a fool.

It’s not that young meat still isn’t a treat, like eating venison. But for beef and potatoes from now on I want more mature guys. And I know just where to find them.

I usually frequent gay establishments which cater to young crowds. Of course, as I said before, my pickings are getting slimmer. I must look like a dinosaur to those youngsters. Hal and Les hang out at a place where more mature gay men are the norm. They always beg me to come along to meet someone or other, and I always refuse. I can’t wait to tell them that I would like to go with them next time.

Silvio, Elliot and I doze off for a little while. When we awaken, I tell them that I don’t want to leave, but I have to go home because I have no clothes for work the next day. We all agree that we had a wonderful time, and Silvio asks me if I would like a repeat performance. “You bet,” I answer him. When I leave, I kiss both of them goodbye. My lips and theirs are open and our tongues tickle each other. No twinkie ever left me like that. They usually run out as fast as they can, probably to enjoy someone their own age, which is to say, much younger than I am.

I learn two new facts that night:

1) Mature sex is infinitely more gratifying than quickie sex with babies. (Why did it take me so long to learn that?)

2) Mature bodies can be just as sexy as baby ones, as long as they are maintained. Mine is. You just have to look beyond a small wrinkle, or a sag or two. (Who doesn’t like a love handle anyway, if it’s there?)

The following Saturday night, I go with Hal and Les, Elliot and Silvio, to a gay bar which I learn is their favorite hangout. It’s their ‘Cheers,’ where everybody knows their name. As I enter the bar my eyes scan as much of the premises as I can. I immediately put the age group as being from mid thirties to death. The new ME is content in this knowledge.

The next thing I notice is that there is no dance floor, and no blaring dance music. The only noise is the din of voices in happy conversation. Instead of dance facilities there is a restaurant. My friends have made dinner reservations for us. I am a bit leery, but they all assure me that the food here is five star. Five star in a gay bar? I am very skeptical.

We are escorted to our table, and I see that it is set for six. So I can look forward to another fix up. I resign myself and sit down.

“Who else can we expect?” I ask with a slight sneer in my voice.

Hal says, “One of my co-workers was recently transferred here from Chicago. It didn’t take long for us to find out that we are gay brothers. I invited him here tonight to meet my friends, and some other people. He doesn’t know any one in town yet. I’m sure you’ll all like him. Anyway, Terry,” he looks at me, “I didn’t want you to feel like a fifth wheel.”

“I like being a fifth wheel,” I answer without meaning a word of it. “What’s your friend look like.”

“You’ll see,” Hal says. “His name is Bill Masterson. By the way, he has been called ‘Bat’ all his life. He used to hate it, but now he says it’s a part of him, especially since he’s a night owl.”

Well, I think, at least we have that in common.

I glance up to see the cute, young waiter escorting Bat to our table, and my heart flip flops. I know it has skipped some beats, and I’m afraid I might die. Bat is at least 6’3”, and a walking bundle of muscle. It is hard to pinpoint his age, because his head is clean shaven. That’s nice in a way, because his baldness makes his ice blue eyes look icier and bluer. From the appearance of his black eyebrows, it would seem that Bat was once a brunet. He looks like a real he-man, and I wonder how Hal spotted him to be a brother. Hal’s gaydar must be honed to perfection.

We all stand to shake his hand as Hal introduces us. Naturally Bat is sitting next to me. We all order a drink before dinner. I order scotch and soda. Bat orders scotch and soda. For dinner I order a New York strip steak with sweet potato fries, and Bat orders the same.

“This is a set up,” I whisper to him. “Isn’t it?” (I really don’t mind if it’s a set up or not.)

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he says. “I just happen to like the same things you do.” As he finishes speaking to me, I see him jump almost imperceptibly. I know what that’s all about. Silvio is sitting on his other side, and Silvio’s hand has just found its target. Bat is sure to receive Silvio’s card and a whispered invitation, very shortly.

I experience a new emotion. I am extremely jealous, but I’m not sure of whom. Is it Bat, Silvio or Elliot? Maybe it’s all three. I don’t want to feel left out. Not to worry. Bat turns from Silvio, and directs all his attention to me.

“This is no set up,” he says to me, “but Hal told me that he wanted me to meet you. He said you are having a hard time dealing with turning forty, and since I turned forty almost a year ago, he thought I could help you through the doldrums. Frankly it never bothered me at all.”

So Bat is nearly forty-one. He’s younger than Silvio and Elliot, but mature, and he seems to be in control of himself, which I never am.

“Well, I don’t know if my soul is up for saving, but I sure would like to see you again. Would you have lunch or dinner with me sometime soon?” I ask without making it sound like I am pleading. The truth is I am pleading, or at least, hoping.

“You bet,” he says. He reaches into his wallet and extracts his card, and hands it to me. Silvio looks at us unhappily. I reach into my wallet and give Bat my card. He takes my card and smiles at me. He has a killer smile. It creates a dimple on each side of his mouth and shows off his perfectly white teeth. The cards are important to have, but before the evening is over, Bat and I agree to have lunch here the very next day, just the two of us.

I’d give an eye socket to go home with Bat tonight, but I restrain myself from making a move, not even a hint of a move. I wonder what he is thinking. I tell myself to be patient. I’ll find out at lunch tomorrow how far we can take this. I hope it’s all the way.

At the end of the evening, everybody departs casually with hugs and kisses. When I get home, I undress, brush my teeth, and pee. Then I crawl into bed. I start to think about Bat and my cock becomes stiff. It has a mind of its own. I start to stroke it, when suddenly I hear my doorbell. I am astonished and a little apprehensive. Who could be calling on me at this hour of the night? For just a second, I pray that maybe it’s some young boy I recently had sex with, who has come back for seconds. Fat chance.

I grab a robe, which is hanging on the back of my bedroom door, and run to the front door. My hardon is gone.

“Who’s there,” I whisper through the door.

There is no answer, and the bell rings again so I ask louder, “Who’s there?”

“It’s Bat,” I hear loud and clear. I throw open the door and Bat comes in. His face is red and flushed. I am speechless.

“Look,” he says. “I haven’t had sex since I left Chicago several weeks ago, except with my fist, of course. I’m too old to be shy, and I don’t want to go through a coy period with you.”

“What do you mean?” I ask. I am really confused. All this is new to me.

“Well, when we have lunch tomorrow, we’ll both beat around the bush. We’ll maybe make another date for lunch or dinner, and eventually we might go to bed together. Let’s skip all that crap.”

Bat grabs me, pulls me close and starts to kiss me. At first his kiss is soft and sensuous, but as our mouths open wider, his kisses get harder and more passionate. My robe parts a little bit, and my revived cock pokes out and crushes against his fully clothed body. I take a cue from Elliot. “We’ve got too much clothing on,” I whisper in his ear.

As Bat begins to undress, I am grateful that he knocked before I finished whacking off. Once a night is my speed these days. Another thing I am grateful for is the lesson in mature, passionate love making that I learned from Silvio and Elliot.

I suddenly remember Silvio and I ask, “Did you get an invitation from Silvio during the evening?”

“Yes, I guess you’ve had the drill also.”

“I have to admit I enjoyed it tremendously. It turned out to be a threesome with Elliot.”

“I figured it would end up that way.”

“I had a great time, but that was then, and this is now,” I whisper in his ear. I am dismayed that he is still clothed. He is wearing boots, and struggling to remove them. In his haste, they just won’t come off his legs. He looks at me in sheer consternation, so I go over and help him pull them off. That being done, he struggles with the buttons on his shirt. I can’t help it. I break out laughing and urge him to calm down. I have never seen a man so anxious to get into bed with me. After much fumbling he is finally naked, and I lead him to my bed.”

His body is magnificent. His erect cut cock is almost frightening in its length and girth. I can’t wait for it to enter every opening in my body. Bat is dripping precum, and I know he is just as anxious as I am.

We hug, fondle and kiss for a short while, and then Bat takes the initiative. He starts to kiss his way down my body. When he nears my cock and balls he says to me, “I’d like to give you more foreplay, and I will next time, but right now I am too horny and hungry for your cock.” He doesn’t just suck it, he devours it. I try to delay my orgasm. At my age it should be easy, but I can’t. I have been fantasizing about this all evening. My horny level is at maximum. My libido is begging for relief. I have just enough time to warn him, when I cum gushing into his mouth. He swallows all he can and he purrs like a contented kitten.

When I recover, we fondle some more, and Bat asks, almost sheepishly, if he can fuck me.

“Fuckin’ A,” I answer, “but first I want to suck you a little.

Bat’s cock is as big as you would expect it to be, given his brawn. He is erect and cut, and I am sure he is between eight and nine inches. That’s enough challenge for an ass hole, but he is also very wide around. I know that I am up to the challenge, and I go down on him. I get about half his cock in my mouth. No matter, his head is not too sensitive to my licking tongue. When I hear his breathing getting shallower, I stop, open my dresser drawer and hand him condoms and lube.

Bat turns me on my back, and starts to lubricate my hole. He is pleased at how easily it opens up to his touch. He struggles with the condom. It is too small for him. When finally it is on, he lubes it well and positions his cock at my opening. He enters me slowly, a centimeter at a time, maybe a millimeter at a time. I barely have any pain, and immediately I feel his cock against my prostate. I am already pre-orgasmic, and I have to wonder if it will happen. I haven’t cum twice in one night in many years.

“Am I good to go?” he asks. I am impressed by how considerate he is.

“Fuck away,” I beg him.

He too cums much faster than he wanted to, and YES INDEED, I do cum again. I feel his cum filling me up, and I realize that the condom must have split. It was really too small for him. I couldn’t care less. My tricks and I always use condoms, so I don’t remember ever feeling someone’s juices filling me up. I am so happy with the way that makes me feel that I have to resist crying with joy. Afterwards, we cuddle in the afterglow, and Bat thanks me profusely. I try to hush him up and tell him that it is I who am thankful. We finally agree that we are both thankful.

Bat whispers in my ear, “I am very versatile. Will you fuck me next time?”

Next time! These words are music to my ears. I reward him again with my favorite expression, “Fuckin’ A.”

As I fall asleep in Bat’s arms, I think, reaching forty is really not so bad after all. Fuckin’ A.

Posted: 12/30/11