All right, my cock isn't what it used to be. Along with the rest of me, it has slowed down a lot. What do you expect at the age of 90 something? But the old todger still stirs from time to time, and the simple act of stroking it brings all them good feelings flooding back.
'Course, it's more in the mind these days, but I got a whole slather of memories to draw on: so many horny young boys. I never wasted a chance in my whole life..
Stop. Let's get back to basics. Flick him out and hold him flat in the open palm of your hand. Look down and tell me what you see. Nah, don't tell me, tell yourself what you see.
You are looking at the best buddy you ever had, right?
or Yep. Me too, friend.
I ain't going to boast and say I can remember every spunkup I ever had, every blowjob given or received, every assfuck. No, no point. I can't remember them all. Who can? But when I lay my old buddy flat in the palm of my hand and close my eyes, the memories come flooding back.... And, bless him, the old boy stirs and begs me to wrap my fingers round him, get him a little harder. Not rock hard like in the old days, but hard enough so I can stroke him. Not bad for 90 something, right?
No, you dumb fuck, 'course I don't cum any more. You, in your prime, young and vigorous, continually spray the universe with your hot manseed, or pump it down some good buddy's throat. That's fine. I done my share, believe me. But let me tell you, cumming ain't all of it. Cumming is the climax of it, but it ain't the all of it.
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I ain't complaining, you understand. I still get that old feeling, that tingling, that ache in the belly, that twitching in the cock, that tightening of the balls, specially when I get a visit from one of my great-nephews and he sits across from me, fresh and pink and young and EATABLE, and we talk about godknowswhat, and I look at his firm young body, and I rub my crotch and get horny and........well, looking is all I get to do these days. Listen, when you stop looking, when you stop dreaming, you are fucked. Finished. And I ain't finished yet!
Women? Been there, done that, never wanted to wear the teeshirt, though. What's to boast about? Your find hard cock thrusting into a squidgy cunt, you grind, pant, work your balls off, you spunk up, you are on a high and she's just laying there like it was physiotherapy, her mind miles away dwelling on fuckknowswhat. Or even worse, she's giving out them phoney groans, aah ooh ooh aah, she might just as well moan out a list of phone numbers: Ooooh my gooooooood - oh yes! One five six six seven three three three oh yes oh yes oh yes!!!!!
Compared to fucking a willing young boy, that is like doing nothing and still breaking into a sweat. What? You never fucked a boy? You NEVER EVER fucked a boy???
What the hell you think it's for, that great pieceameat that you fondle and stroke every day of your life? It's for giving and receiving pleasure, and that's all about doing it with boys. Let me tell you about my first time, I mean, when I was a boy and had my first mancock.... Or maybe about the first time I assfucked a willing boy......
Well, no, maybe you don't want to hear about the ramblings of a 90 something year old, maybe you just want to go online, download some pix of big busty dames and beat your meat. Go ahead, brother, I ain't gonna stop ya. But, hell, if you only knew what you been missing......
Little Big Man, that's me. Wish I could have fucked Dustin Hofmann, or maybe been taken by that whole tribe of Cherokee braves he ran with. I bet HE wasn't short of an assfuck or two.....
Time for my afternoon nap, guys. Wish me luck. Some days, I get visited in my dreams by some choice boyflesh.
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