I never planned it. At fifty-four, divorced for three years, I figured my sex life was over or at least stuck in the same tired routine with women who wanted the same things I did. Then I met Derek at the gym. He was thirty-eight, broad-shouldered, and direct as hell. One night after spotting each other on the bench he just said, “You ever think about trying dick?” I laughed it off at first, but the question stuck. Two weeks later I texted him. He replied with his address and a time.
I showed up at his apartment door with my heart hammering. Derek opened it wearing only gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips. “You sure?” he asked. I nodded. He pulled me inside, shut the door, and kissed me hard. It was nothing like kissing a woman. His stubble scraped my face, his tongue pushed deep, and his hands went straight for my belt. Within seconds my cock was out and he was stroking it with a firm, knowing grip.
“On your knees,” he said. I dropped. His sweatpants came down and his thick cock sprang free, already half-hard. I’d never been this close to another man’s dick. It smelled clean and musky. I opened my mouth and took the head in. The taste was salty, the skin smooth and hot. Derek groaned and pushed deeper. I gagged but didn’t pull back. He fucked my mouth slowly at first, then faster, telling me exactly how he wanted it. “Suck harder. Use your tongue.” I did, and the sound of my own wet slurping filled the room.
After a few minutes he pulled me up and led me to the bedroom. “Strip,” he ordered. I got naked while he watched, then he pushed me onto the bed on my stomach. His hands spread my ass cheeks and a wet finger circled my hole. “Relax,” he said. The finger pushed in. It burned at first, then felt strangely good as he worked it deeper and added a second. He finger-fucked me until I was pushing back against his hand, moaning into the pillow.
I heard the rip of a condom wrapper and the click of lube. Then the blunt head of his cock pressed against my hole. “Breathe,” he said, and pushed. The stretch was intense, almost too much. I gritted my teeth and took it inch by inch until his balls rested against me. He stayed still, letting me adjust, then started moving. Each thrust went deeper. The pain faded into a heavy, full feeling that made my own cock leak against the sheets.
Derek fucked me with steady, deep strokes, one hand on my hip, the other reaching under to jerk me off in time with his thrusts. “You’re taking it like you were made for it,” he growled. The words pushed me over. I came hard, shooting onto the bed while he kept pounding. A minute later he grunted, buried himself to the hilt, and came inside the condom.
We stayed like that for a while, breathing hard. When he pulled out I felt empty and sore in the best way. Derek rolled me over, kissed me again, slower this time, and said, “Next round you’re fucking me.” I was already getting hard again at the thought.
That night I learned exactly how good another man’s body could feel, and I knew I wasn’t going back.
