I was on business in the Fire Island area of New York. Checking into a small motel I was surprised to see the small, old, Jewish-looking man behind the counter, in effect, checking me out. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or get annoyed by his eyeing me and smiling at me in what could only be described as a leering way.
The man had a small name badge on. It read, “Myron”. He was short with a mild potbelly, and had a skinny pair of arms and legs, making him appear to be a sort of geriatric spider. He wore his pants nearly up to his chest with suspenders assisting them. All in all, he appeared to be a sixty-five plus nerd.
As he handed me the keys to my room he said to me softly, “See ya around.” Then he gave me this knowing look that communicated a presumption that I was gay or something.
A few young, male clerks working in the office observed this and giggled as they could see my exasperation with what was happening.
I left half-pissed that this old fag could think I was gay. But another side of me was somewhat amused by it all. Imagine, I thought, me an ex-jock, college football player, now married for 20 years and with two kids, mistook by this little faggot for a potential boyfriend.
I laughed the thought off a couple of times as the thought recurred throughout the night. But as I tried to sleep that night, for some reason, I couldn’t get the incident, or the look the old man gave me, out of my mind.
The next day, after making some sales calls in the area, I figured I’d go out and sample the motel’s outdoor pool. As I lay in my lounge chair, who should show up but Myron.
He entered the pool area via a sliding glass door wrapped in a terry cloth robe. He said hi to me with a wink, pulled over a chaise lounge chair nearby, turned his back to me and peeled off his robe.
I was shocked to see he was wearing only a beige thong. His ass was bared in all its glory, just a few feet from my face. I was taken back that this spindly old man had such a muscular ass. It stood out in contradiction to his wiry legs and arms.
When he turned toward me, I was treated to another shock. Although his torso looked malnourished—his chest was concave, sloping into a pronounced potbelly—his genitals looked immense.
The crotch of the thong was sorely stretched, hanging down at least seven or eight inches from his loins. As he swung one leg over the lounge chair and proceeded to squat down into it, I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the loaded pouch that was the crotch of his thong as it preceded him in resting itself onto the chair long before his ass would touch down.
He remained for a few seconds with his legs spread, each foot set on either side of the lounge chair. His massive genitalia, laid out in front of him like an obscene ornament. I couldn’t seem to take my eyes from it.
“Nice view,” he murmured. It jolted me from my mindless gazing at his crotch.
“What!” I said, embarrassed at what I was doing. But Myron just looked off toward the beach and ocean, repeating, “Nice view out there, eh?”
“Oh yeah,” I said, my face reddening because I knew he was playing with me. He saw how I stared at his trophy manhood.
We started in with small talk, all the while Myron continued to sit, legs spread wide, each foot on either side of the chair. A position that left me struggling to look him in the eye as we talked. But I found myself, to my own bewilderment, finding it hard to avoid sneaking glances down at his amazing size.
The crotch of the thong, reaching out more than half a foot in front of him, was stretched to the point of allowing one to look in the side of it. The elastic leg part that should have hugged his upper thigh was pulled inches from its appropriate mooring. I could see the thick hose that was his aged cock, and the loose skin that was his scrotum.
He got up after a while and went in the pool. When he re-emerged the beige thong became transparent. I could see the large knob of his dick and the elephantine balls he carried.
I was amazed that I found all of this so…impressive. I found myself puzzled that another man’s size could leave me so awestruck. “Awestruck” was the only word I could come up with to explain how I was feeling at this point in Myron’s presence.
As he spoke to me, Myron would occasionally reach over and touch my leg while making a point. In time, he was squeezing my thigh a bit as he spoke to me. Several times I was about to haul off and belt him, or at least tell him to take his hand off me, but each time he’d remove his hand just before I did. As time passed, I found his touchings both repulsive …but also strangely exciting. I began to notice this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was a slowly stirring arousal at Myron’s touchings.
“You’ve got a lot of muscle there,” he said with a leering smile at one point as he squeezed the muscle of my upper thigh. I at first wanted to tell him to fuck off, but then found myself softly responding, “Thanks.”
What was wrong with me? I didn’t know. When I excused myself to go take a leak, I found a wet spot in my inner trunks. When I pulled out my dick it was drooling precum. I honestly found this terrifying. I couldn’t imagine myself gay. How could I be responding to this homely little man? What kind of spell was I under?
I went back and sat with Myron and we talked some more. As late day arrived, he suggested we go down to the beach so I could enjoy, “…all Fire Island had to offer.”
We walked together down to the beach side by side. Myron led me behind some shrubs and dunes. He spread his blanket out and he laid down on it. I sat along side him. He asked if I would put some tanning lotion on him. I surprised myself by complying.
He first rolled over and lay prone on the blanket. I applied the lotion over his skinny legs and down onto the backs of his feet. I found myself massaging the soles of his feet. The old man moaned slightly, letting me know it felt good. As I worked up his leg, I massaged his calf and then the backs of his thighs.
I skipped over his prominent buttocks and applied the gel to his back, shoulders and neck. I even worked it into his arms, massaging them along the way. He continued to lay before me. There was only one other area to cover. I was trembling as I squirted the lotion onto my hands and rubbed them together. I then began rubbing the lotion onto his muscular ass. He moaned again in appreciation. But he appeared all the while confident that I would do just what I was doing. He never seemed to doubt from the moment we walked down to the beach that he would have me stroking and massaging him this intimately.
As I stroked and kneaded Myron’s well-muscled buttocks, I couldn’t help but stare down at the bursting pouch of thong that began to stretch between his legs. I found myself allowing my hands to rub against the bared part of his crotch as I massaged his ass.
The bulk and size of his cock and balls was mesmerizing me. To my surprise, I felt myself getting an erection as I worked on the muscular ass and continued to nudge his rapidly enlarging penis.
Finally, Myron rolled over. His dick was starting to poke straight up, practically tearing the thong from him. He casually reached down and slowly, confidently, pulled the thong off and threw it aside. His huge dick stood up along his belly. It must have been close to 12 inches. I’d never seen anything like it. He smiled as I stared at his prize. Then he lay back down. The immense organ arched up over his stomach reaching up to his lower chest. It pulsated. I tried to continue applying the lotion to his thighs, but as I watched the thick powerful dick continue to hover over him, pulsating rhythmically, I slowed and almost stopped. It was as if his dick, with its strength, size and power was hypnotizing me.
He whispered, “I’ve seen that look before.”
He slowly—gently but firmly—grabbed the back of my neck. As he grabbed the base of his cock in one hand, pointing it straight upward, he brought my head down to the knob of his dick. My lips were brought firmly to the bulbous, sticky, head of his cock. My lips opened. I took his cock into my mouth. From there it is all a haze to me. I only remember my hand taking the base of his dick from him as I began swirling my tongue around the head of the gigantic dick. I began to bob up and down on it. In the back of my mind I knew I was blowing the old man, but my mind blotted it out.
I found myself just wanting to please Myron. I was pumping the behemoth organ into my mouth, running my pursed lips up and down over the head of the big dick. Myron was grunting now. I heard him mumble, “Born cocksucker,” several times. My spittle, mixed with his precum was running out of my mouth, down the thick barrel of his shaft.
We were getting loud. In the back of my mind I wondered if someone would hear us and we’d be found. But I was so hot, I continued on, slurping and sucking away noisily on the wonderful, giant cock that Myron was feeding me.
Myron was on his elbows now watching me suck him off. He continued to grunt, “Cocksucker,” over and over as I continued laboring over his monster cock.
“Suck it…that’s it cocksucker…suck it like you’ve wanted to since you set eyes on me,” Myron hissed over and again, taking charge of me. I found myself responding by sucking and working ever harder to please this new master I had found.
I felt Myron’s hand pulling down my suit. My seven-inch dick was harder than it had been in years. In the last few years the truth is I had trouble performing with my wife. I had trouble attaining and maintaining an erection. Such was not the case with Myron. As he played with my dick I realized I was going to cum if he continued.
Suddenly Myron came. My mouth filled violently with the thick jism he gave forth. He grunted over and over. I wondered if I could contain it all.
“Swallow it!” he barked down at me. I did. It still overflowed down onto my fingers though. Like a thick white molasses his semen ran down onto my fingers, my hand, and over my wrist.
I squirted under his hand manipulations. It seemed minor compared to Myron’s explosion. But I could hear him grunt amusedly at my quick ejaculation.
When we were done we lay side by side, sans our bathing suits.
After several minutes he reached over lazily and fondled my cock and then my balls.
“You’re my boy, now,” he said. I laid quietly, acquiescing to his pronouncement. I’d never felt so secure and comforted with someone before. As Myron put his arm around me and pulled me to him—as a man would a woman—I felt I was in the presence of a truly confident and powerful man.
As we lay there, I would suck him off again before we put our suits back on and walked up toward the motel. We did so arm in arm. As we passed some other men walking along the beach, they looked at us knowingly. Occasionally, Myron’s hand would reach down squeezing and patting my ass.
When we got back up to the motel, Myron told me to call him if I wanted to that evening.
After showering in my room, I thought I’d just go to bed early and leave early the next morning. But as I lay in bed, images of the day kept coming to mind. Especially of Myron and his mammoth dick. I was hard again and horny. I called Myron and asked if I could come over. He said, sure.
We wound up in bed all that evening making love.
The next morning we were awoken by a phone call. It was a minor emergency down at the motel office. As I watched Myron talking on the phone, standing a few feet away from the bed, I was impressed with his calm and command. He calmly but assertively told the person on the other end what to do and how to handle the problem.
I lay leaning on one elbow, watching “my man” handling the situation confidently, one hand on his hip, his trunk like cock hanging out in front of him, wagging as he’d walk around talking into the phone. As he’d occasionally turn his back to me, I could see the large sack of balls dangling a good six inches down from his groin.
I realized that I was watching an alpha male at work. Although Myron may have originally seemed small and scrawny to me, he decided he wanted me, a straight masculine male, and took what he wanted. He seduced me into being his, “boy,” and sharing his bed. He also seduced me into servicing his every need. He was for all intents and purposes, my superior, my master.
When he was done on the phone, he strode back to the bed I lay waiting for him in, his trunk-like dick bouncing off his thighs as he walked. He reached over and grasped my dick. It was hard as a poker.
“What’s this all about,” he smiled. We kissed deeply, his tongue probing my mouth. When our lips parted, he whispered, “Are you my boy?’
“Yes,” I responded.
He then began to casually tell me about what was happening down at the office as he took the pillows and piled them in the middle of the bed. As he continued discussing the office situation, he casually signaled for me to position myself over the pillows, ass in the air. Myron continued chatting as I assumed the position he had calmly, wordlessly, ordered me to assume.
As I lay waiting, Myron chatted along about the work situation as he opened a jar of Vaseline and dished it out by his fingers. And as he continued on about the office he casually spread my cheeks with the thumb and fore finger of one hand and applied the Vaseline to my asshole with the other.
“There we go” he interjected within his monologue about work briefly as he stuck his greased fingers up my ass, applying the lubricant.
Then Myron, just as casually, positioned himself behind me and began working his over sized dick into my ass. It hurt tremendously as he stretched me to the maximum. In time he worked his long, fat cock into my rectum, then deep into my bowels. Shortly he was pumping himself into me.
In a mirror across from us, I could see this little, old man mounting me and humping into me. What more blatant form of dominance, I thought, than one human mounting and humping another for his pleasure. Myron was doing just that. He was mounting and humping me. Using me—using my ass—for his pleasure.
At one point Myron held me by the back of my neck, pushing my face down into the bed as he leveraged himself for greater penetration as he pounded his loins into my ass, smacking and slapping away with his pelvis as if it were spanking my ass. I could only lie beneath him passively grunting at the pain he was inflicting on me. And yet, my penis stiffened under the battering. I came into the pillows below me.
After several minutes, Myron came voluminously. He flooded my bowels with his masculine enema. I could hear him grunting above and behind me, squeezing one of my ass cheeks as he came. Then he fell onto my back and lay on me for a few minutes before disengaging himself and lying back on the bed.
I ran to the bathroom. After a few minutes I emerged with a hot wet cloth to clean him with. He smiled at me as I lovingly cleaned his cock.
“You’re my bitch,” he offered. I said nothing. We both knew I agreed.
Later that day I stopped by his office before leaving. Two of the clerks there smiled to each other when I asked if I could step back into Myron’s office. They remembered me as the apparently straight guy who the other day appeared annoyed at Myron’s come on. Now they could see, Myron knew best.
When I got back to his office, he asked what I wanted. I said, to say goodbye. He pushed his chair out from behind the desk, spreading his legs somewhat obscenely, and asked me how I intended to say goodbye.
I knew the clerks outside would hear, but I didn’t care. I kneeled down in front of Myron and unzipped him. I fished out the big dick I had come to love so, and sucked him off. I could hear his young male clerks giggling in the outer office.
Since Myron, I have been with a couple of other older confident men in the Bay Area where I live. With a family, I do have to keep my relationships secret. But I cannot go back to just a hetero life style. Myron changed all that. Myron changed my life.
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I’d love to hear from some of the readers what they thought—especially the older ones.