Consoling the Widowed Neighbour (Gay Themes)

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by timmywells

“You sure I can’t get you boys anything before I turn in?” Melody Parker asked us as she prepared to go upstairs, and after her husband Paul told her we were fine, she smiled and gave her husband a kiss before taking a couple of steps around the bar to give me a peck on the cheek as well.

“Goodnight Melody,” I called out to her back as she headed upstairs, my eyes following her chunky butt as she left us men alone.

Melody wasn’t really my type, as I usually gravitate towards more full-figured women like my late wife, although my next door neighbour’s pear-shaped body was pleasant enough to the eye even if her facial features were stereotypical of the librarian she was.

The kiss though, was something new. Since my wife passed away the year before the two of them had almost adopted me, inviting me over for cookouts and pool parties, and although at 60 I was about as old as the two of them combined, I was glad for the distraction and the time fillers.

The kiss was the second one Melody had ever given me, with the first being after their pool party, and while I thought the kiss from Melody was probably from a couple extra cocktails, I didn’t shove her away.

Melody’s husband Paul was another story all together. Paul was one I had figured out quite a while ago, and nothing that happened since then had changed my mind. Paul was interested in me but was obviously too timid to make the first move.

Like his wife, Paul seemed very straight-laced and they both came off as nerdish bookworms, but we all know that sometimes you can’t tell a book by the cover. I wasn’t sure that Paul was gay, but I had little doubt that Paul was not adverse to the affections of his own gender.

That didn’t bother me a bit, and the reason for that was I had enjoyed sex with men all my life, and many of them were gentlemen who I shared with my dear wife. We were a great couple and part of that was the fact that I knew she liked young men, and Ella knew that I did too.

Whether the two of us would have ever dragged Paul into our bed – and his wife as well – was uncertain, but my wife’s illness and too-soon passing eliminated that possibility from the start, so they thought of me as the kindly old gentleman next door whose heart was pure and was still grieving. They were right about the grieving part, but if they knew what was in my mind they would know that my heart was far from pure and while I’m well-mannered and respectful, I’m no gentleman.

With Melody upstairs it was just us guys, and as I accepted Paul’s offer of another bottle of Miller High Life, I sensed that the young man was dying to say something but lacked the nerve. Paul kept pushing his glasses back up his nose, and I don’t know whether he was intimidated by my age or height, since I was a head taller than Paul even though we were both slender.

We made some small talk, and then Paul brought up the pool party he had the last week. After clearing his throat a few times he casually mentioned that he was glad I had a good time and wished that they had more female friends who were unattached so they could introduce me to them.

“You mean some women who are unattached and old, right Paul?” I chided while winking at the man behind the bar who even though he was 30 barely looked old enough to drink, looking a bit like a young Rick Moranis.

“No, heck no, Steve,” Paul stammered as he came around his bar to join me on a stool. “You’re a handsome man and you look much younger than your age – act it too – and you look darn good in a bathing suit as well. That wasn’t me saying that, of course. Melody said that to me that night after the party broke up.”

“I think she was just being kind,” I said, although I had felt her eyes on me that day, but I think that what Paul was credited to his wife were also things that went through his mind.

“No, she’s very fond of you. I think she’s a fan of yours, and not just because of your writings either,” Paul added, although my literary career was modest at best, but I nodded thanks while pretty much forcing Paul to keep talking.

“That bathing suit of yours,” Paul said, shaking his head, and as he struggled for words I noticed that his hands were trembling as they tapped the frosty bottle.

“Oh, that old thing,” I said of the aged olive-green trunks which were almost as old as Paul. “I’m sure its way out of style, but I haven’t done much swimming in recent years.”

“No, It wasn’t that,” Paul blurted out as sweat beaded up on his forehead and he tried to think of what to say. “I mean it was… you know… when it was wet you could really see… I mean not actually see… but you could see the outline of your… you know?”

“Oh, I didn’t realize that,” I said, which was bullshit.

“No, I mean it wasn’t your fault. The trunks were really baggy,” Paul explained. “But Melody noticed and…”

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry. I’ll apologize to the poor girl because that wasn’t my intention to embarrass her or myself for that matter,” I said, and while it was true that the loose-fitting trunks weren’t supposed to be revealing, it couldn’t be helped.

“No, she wasn’t embarrassed,” Paul assured me as sweat rolled down the sides of his face, not an easy task because his basement was cool, and then he let out a nervous laugh while continuing. “As a matter-of-fact, when we got to bed and we started talking about you, she got kind of – well, she was like an animal. She’s not usually like that.”

“Oh?” I said as I swivelled on the stool to face my neighbour, whose face was getting red.

“Yeah,” Paul said, and after taking a deep breath added, “She’s not used to anything like that, if you know what I mean.”

“I’m not quite sure,” I said, although I clearly did know what he was talking about, but I enjoyed watching him squirm while trying to say everything but what he felt.

“You know. I mean I’m not very – you know,” Paul stammered as he seemed to be trying to break the world’s record for the most times saying you know in one night. “I mean you’re obviously very well endowed.”

“I don’t know about that,” I replied.

“Yeah. Melody, she said that you look like you could be in one of those dirty movies.”

“Now what would you know about dirty movies?” I kidded, adding, “What would Father O’Reilly say?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t tell…” Paul said in a panic before he saw I was playing around. “No, we have a VHS tape player and sometimes I go up to Schenectady to Adult World and rent a couple of movies.”

“All the way to Schenectady from here?” I said of the 15 mile trip from our neighbourhood of Bethlehem just outside of Albany.

“Don’t want to rent them around here, in case anybody saw me,” Paul explained. “Don’t tell Melody I told you about this.”

“I won’t, but I am surprised that Melody would watch movies of that nature, seeing as she’s so prim and proper,” I said.

“Oh, she has her moments,” Paul said and then told me that I hoped I didn’t think they weren’t sex fiends or anything from watching pornography.

“On the contrary, I think it’s a healthy thing for a couple to do. Ella and I used to watch them too, although I started watching them on our Beta player.”

“Really?” Paul replied, and after I nodded, he told me who I reminded his wife of.

“John Holmes,” Paul told me. “She said that he looked like him only you were better looking.”

“I think I’ve heard of him,” I told Paul, which was silly because I was very familiar with his work.

“Yeah, she likes him because he’s got a… you know?” Paul said, holding his hands wide apart, and then when I asked him who he liked he mentioned Kay Parker and Lisa DeLeuuw, cupping his hands in front of himself.

“Oh, you like the busty ladies?”

“Yeah, I guess we like to look at people who aren’t like either of us. Melody, she’s kind of small on top, really small, and so seeing big breasts every once in a while is a change.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” I told my neighbour who wasn’t exactly breaking news to me that his wife was pretty much flat-chested since I had peeked down the top of her modest bathing suit that afternoon enough to learn that the little swells in the front were mostly padding and not nearly as full as her bottom. “You make a very handsome couple.”

“And me, I’m not… you know… nothing like John Holmes, that’s for sure, if you know what I mean.”

“I’m sure you please Melody just fine,” I assured Paul, who seemed to be melting down in front of me judging by his drenched shirt.

“I’m not sure – the way she was looking at you in your bathing suit – I’ll bet if you ever came over one day when I wasn’t here she probably wouldn’t say no,” Paul said with a swallow, and I wasn’t sure whether that was something he feared or wanted.

“You don’t have to worry about that Paul because I’m no home-wrecker,” I made clear, patting him on a damp shoulder. “I think you make too much of Melody looking at John Holmes. She doesn’t get upset when you stare at Kay Parker, right?”


“And I’ll bet that she looks at Kay Parker too,” I suggested, and after Paul shrugged I threw in, “After all, I suspect you look at John Holmes too, don’t you?”

Paul’s head jerked upright at that, his eyes like a deer in the headlights, and it took him a bit before he answered, “Yeah, it’s kind of tough not to. I mean he’s in the movie.”

“That he is,” I replied, and then followed a moment of very awkward silence during which Paul took a long swallow of his beer before facing me again, and after a series of stammers and stutters managed to say what he meant.

“Can you take it out?” Paul asked, his nervous twitching getting close to resembling a seizure.

“Pardon?” I asked, because while I thought I was ready for just about anything at this point, this managed to surprise me.

“Your penis. I was just wondering if you could take it out for a second,” Paul repeated, and when I asked why Paul said he was curious.

“I’m sure you’ve seen other guy’s cocks before,” I replied. “Back in the locker room at school?”

“Not really,” Paul responded, and then began to babble about getting excused from gym class all through high school. “If you don’t want to, I understand. I sure wouldn’t do it if somebody asked. It’s just that I’m… I dunno… Curious.”

“What if Melody comes down here?” I said, and after Paul said she wouldn’t ever do that because she knew better, whatever that meant, I added, “What would she think of me – or you for that matter if she saw me standing here with my cock out?”

“You can hear anybody that gets near the door because the landing upstairs squeaks,” Paul explained, and that was something I knew from being down here before so many times.

“Please?” He added, almost begging, and at that I sighed and got up from the stool, with Paul doing the same thing and taking a step back.

“It’s not going to jump out at you,” I kidded as I grabbed my zipper and started tugging it down, but then I stopped halfway.

“You do it, Paul,” I said as I let go and put my hands on my hips, realizing that Paul wanted – needed to be dominated and was welcoming the chance to be submissive.

“Me? I’m not that kind of… I can’t,” he complained and after I reminded him that he was the one that wanted to see it and started to sit back down he asked me if I was mad at him.

“Not mad, just confused,” I admitted while talking in a stage whisper. “Besides, I didn’t come close to believing you never saw another guy’s cock before, so don’t try to tell me you never touched another before either. It’s not like it’s something to be ashamed of.”

“Yes,” Paul said softly. “A long time ago.”

“Interesting. Something you’d like to share with me?” I inquired, and after Paul shook his head, I asked, “Something unpleasant happen?”

“No,” Paul said, and then added unsurprisingly, “He was my teacher at Albany Academy.”

“Really? And you liked him?”

“Oh yes. He was wonderful. I guess I loved him.”

“What happened?”

“He… We got caught,” Paul said as his facial expression changed. “By the Principal.”

“Oh,” I replied while Paul wrestled with his inner demons.

“Okay,” Paul suddenly said, so I stood back up and waited with my hands on my hips.

“Hope you have a good alibi for Melody if she shows up,” I hoped.

The zipper on those old trousers had gone down thousands of times, and I would have wagered that if you added all of the time involved it wasn’t much more that the time it took Paul too. If he was trying to tease me he was doing a great job of it.

Paul’s right hand reached into my fly and fumbled around for an eternity just trying to get inside the boxers. When his hand finally dug in and found it, his breathing got louder and faster, and then he had to struggle to pull it out of the fly.

After he succeeded in pulling out Paul sort of lost his grip and so it just hung out there obscenely while my neighbour stared at it and I looked at him. Then his hand went back and wrapped his fingers around it, and it was then when everything changed in my mind.

Up until then I was pretty much playing with Paul, enjoying his discomfort as he struggled with his own desires, but feeling the touch of another’s hand on my cock – a man’s hand – which hadn’t happened in quite a while, brought back memories and I think seeing the wedding band on one of fingers being used made it even better.

“How big is it?” Paul asked as he looked at the brown snake in his fist was wrapped around, his expression, not that of a thirty year old, but that of some kid half his age, and this was exciting to me as well for whatever reason. “Looks as big as my arm.”

“I don’t know about that,” I replied, revelling in the awe he was showing towards my aged tool. “I do know that thanks to you, it’s getting bigger.”

“I know. I can feel it pulsating,” Paul said, and when I brought my hands down, he started to pull away until I explained.

“The bottom of my zipper is cutting into me,” I told my neighbour, and after saying that I was hoping he was right about Melody not coming back down.

I undid my belt and pants and then unsnapped my boxers and let them drop down also so I was standing there bare-assed while my neighbour continued to slowly pump my thickening organ with his sweaty hand. “Wish I was built like you,” Paul whispered, as he shifted his grip on my cock. “I think Melody does too.”

“I don’t think it makes much difference, it’s you she loves,” I opined. “Size is… overrated.”

“Easy for you to say,” Paul retorted as he pulled hard on me, trying to see how far it would stretch. “Am I hurting you?”

“No Paul, far from it. It’s been a while since any hand but mine has touched me there,” I explained. “Been about four years since another guy did it. It’s different, but in a good way.”

“You… you’ve been with other guys?” Paul asked with a stunned expression, and after I nodded, he seemed to be less embarrassed about what he was doing to me.

“You keep getting harder and it keeps getting longer too,” Paul said.

“You can use both hands if you like,” I suggested, and with little hesitation I had two sweaty hands on my cock, milking me.

“Can you still cum?” Paul asked. “I mean, I know when you get older…”

“Oh yes, I can still get hard and I can still cum,” I assured my neighbour.

“I could never last this long,” Paul confessed. “The minute I start playing with myself, I shoot. I know I cum too fast for Melody.”

“That right? Well, why don’t you take off your slacks and let’s find out about that,” I suggested, and when he looked a little conflicted I added, “Hey, we’ve had a few beers and we’re a little silly. Besides, I feel funny standing here like this while you’re fully dressed.”

“I couldn’t,” Paul responded, shaking his head at the suggestion.

“Then maybe I can,” I said, and with that a reached over and grabbed him by the belt. “I think all you need is a little coaxing. I can already see how excited you are.”

There had been a tent forming in the front of Paul’s khakis, and although Paul took one of his hands off my cock and put it on my wrist to stop me his grip was weak and he wasn’t moving like he wanted to get away. Paul did shake his head and mumbled, “Please don’t,” but his other fist remained onto my cock like a lifeline while my hand deftly undid both the belt and the clasp on his slacks.

When the clasp came free, the weight of the things in Paul’s pockets and gravity took over, and as the slacks slid down Paul’s lightly tanned and practically hairless legs, he made a face as if he was in pain, clenching his eyes closed as his hand trembled on me.

“That wasn’t so difficult, was it Paul?” I asked as I looked at him standing there in his tight white underwear, and although he was visibly shaken one thing was unfazed.

I smiled at the way his dick stuck out against the cotton, and I knew that the wet spot on the otherwise brilliant white fabric was not from incontinence, which was why I was perfectly willing to reach down and rub the bulge with my finger.

“Oh my,” I said as Paul’s whole body shook from my touch. “You’re even harder than I am.”

“Please,” Paul whimpered as my hand went up to the elastic of his briefs.

“It’s okay,” I assured my neighbour who still had his eyes clenched shut with the fist squeezing my cock showing surprising strength. “You don’t want me to stop, any more than you wanted that teacher to stop years ago.”

“I know what you really want,” I informed Paul when I slipped my hand under the elastic of his briefs and reached down, “And I know you don’t really want me to stop.”

“Oh!” Paul gasped when, after my fingers slid through a modest tuft of pubic hair they found his prick and the little fellow was hot and as hard as steel.

“See? Doesn’t that feel good?” I asked as I held his dick in the cramped confines of his underwear for a few seconds before letting go so I could ease the briefs down his thighs a bit. “There. And you can open your eyes you know. It’s okay.”

I was kind of glad that Paul had his eyes closed when I first took his underwear down because even though I was prepared to see something that wouldn’t be all that visually imposing, I suspect that my poker face had probably cracked a bit when I saw how small Paul’s dick was.

I’ve seen and held countless cocks in my time of every shape and size in my life, but none as modest as Paul’s endowment. The ghostly pale dick was no bigger than a thumb, with the head of his circumcised tool, about as big as an olive, and if I had to use a word to describe it, I would have picked adorable, much like the way Paul opened his eyes expecting admonishment.

“Okay?” I asked my neighbour, who nodded and then joined me in looking down at our cocks waving near each other.

While I wanted to reach down and take hold of Paul again, I was afraid he would ejaculate at first touch, because there was a bead of pre-cum on the tip of his dick already so I let him do what he wanted.

“See how little it is?” Paul asked me blushing, and as our cocks did this kind of air ballet around each other.

I was going to pooh-pooh his observation, but that would have sounded foolish given the facts. “Feels nice, doesn’t it though?” I said to my neighbour as he brought the tip of his cock over to mine, and when I realized what he was doing I gripped my shaft to steady it as his pale cone eased into my foreskin, and we both shuddered when the tips touched. “That’s it, push it in harder.”

Because I have a rather long foreskin, Paul was able to push his glans in there, sharing my shroud. I sensed by the expression on his face that this must have been something his former teacher had done with him and he was reliving this again through me.

That was alright by me because not only did it feel nice, the visuals involved were erotic too. Seeing Paul’s stem almost been swallowed up by my cock, with the lump his dick caused under my foreskin resembling a mouse being swallowed by a snake, was so hot, that I used my free hand to grab the bulbous lump hard, and the second I did I saw Paul’s face contort.

“It’s okay,” I whispered as I watched Paul’s face speak volumes as he came, his body shaking as I crushed our cocks together. “That’s it. Cum hard for me.”

That he did, and as he stood in front of me on wobbly legs, his dick finally stopped spurting and he slipped out of the vice I had created, leaving my cock waving in front of me while his cum drooled out of my shroud and onto the floor.

“Told you I cum too fast,” Paul lamented with a red face.

“Hey, if it was good for you,” I suggested, adding that I liked it too.

I didn’t want it to end though,” Paul admitted. “It felt so good for me. Can I…”

Paul started to say, and then just knelt down before me and without hesitating grabbed my shaft with both hands and brought me to his mouth, sucking out what cum was loitering in there before moving his lips up and down my member.

If Paul really hadn’t sucked cock since his days at the Academy, he was proving one thing was true. Cock sucking must be like riding a bike – one you learn you never forget – because after a few seconds his mouth and hands were performing like a conductor. His fists were spinning and jerking the shaft while his lips slid down almost halfway down, and when he let one hand slide under and grabbed my nuts and started kneading my low-hangers I concluded that my neighbour’s teacher had done a great job with him.

“That’s so good,” I sighed as I ran my hands through Paul’s hair, the encouragement making him work even harder.

We were both clad only in shirts and socks, which must have made for a weird look, and my shirt was getting as soggy as Paul’s had been. So I began unbuttoning it, and after I tossed it aside, I reached up and began playing with my nipples while watching my neighbour’s mouth and hands play my instrument.

Paul glanced up and after seeing what I was doing, stood up and pressed into me, his mouth going to my right nipple to suckle on it while squeezing the left, all this time grinding into me.

“You’re a nasty boy,” I whispered while Paul’s hands raked through the silver and black fur on my chest, which had thinned a bit over the years, his teeth nibbling my swollen bud while looking up at me for approval.

I had been listening for any movement upstairs, and since there had been nothing but silence from above I began to feel emboldened. My hands reached down and squeezed Paul’s bubble butt, kneading the soft flesh while our cocks ground together, and then I asked him a question.

“Paul – did your teacher used to take you anally?” I breathed into his ear while he chewed my nipple, and I could feel his body shake at those words before he looked up at me.

“Yes,” he replied and when I asked him if he liked it he nodded.

“Do you have any lubricant?” I asked, and at first Paul nodded and his eyes started darting around the room in a panic, but then he had a pained expression on his face.

“Up in our night stand,” he said, and that made me wonder what that got used for since I couldn’t imagine Melody needing lube for regular intercourse and even if she was willing to have her husband fuck her in the ass, Paul’s dick would never reach, even if her butt was smaller.

“Maybe some other time,” I shrugged, but then I suggested that we go over to the couch over near the TV so we could get more comfortable, because I was getting tired of standing.

Paul led the way, and then I had my neighbour lay down on the couch while I lifted my leg over his face and knelt down, contorting myself in a way my back would remind me of the next day so my crotch was over Paul’s face. This allowed me to rub my balls over Paul’s face, as I tea-bagged him, he stuck his tongue out before capturing my right nut in his eager mouth.

“Oh, that boy!” I hissed as he ravenously sucked on my balls one at a time, catching on right away to what I was looking for, and it was then I decided to see exactly how kinky my mild-mannered neighbour was my leaning forward a bit.

“Oh!” I moaned when Paul’s mouth let go of my balls and let his tongue slide under my nuts and along my perineum, swabbing the ridge eagerly as I learned a little bit further down.

As I braced myself with my hand on the back of the couch, stroking my cock with my other hand, my eyes went down and saw Paul’s dick and the evidence that my neighbour was enjoying this as much as I was because his dick was hard and pointing straight up.

It was a testimony to the fact that no matter how sad and almost pitiful his penis was there was no denying that he was very resilient because he had just cum a few minutes ago and now he was as hard as I was.

There was no sense waiting so I slid further down so that my balls and cock were on his collarbone and chest, and like I suspected Paul didn’t stop or even slow down. I felt my neighbour’s face push between my ass cheeks and his tongue vigorously tonguing my anus, even trying to push into me.

As for me, I just bent over and took Paul’s dick in my mouth, the feel of the pulsating member bringing back a lot of memories. There really wasn’t enough to properly suck on because my mouth kept losing contact so what I did was simply suck Paul’s dick like a thumb.

Like he said, he came fast. Paul didn’t last a minute before I heard him stifling a squeal and found his dick jerking and spurting into my mouth. The musky taste of his hot spunk was not unpleasant and I swallowed it as fast as his toy cannon spat it out until it shrivelled away.

While my young neighbours talented tongue was doing wonderful things to my puckered ring, my back was telling me that I wasn’t thirty any more so with great reluctance I climbed off of Paul and asked him to get up so I could sit down.

“No, that was amazing,” I explained when my neighbour wondered whether or not I was enjoying what he was doing, and I hunkered down on the couch while putting my feet on the coffee table, with Paul in between my legs. “It was great, as you can tell.”

I pointed down at my very erect cock, which I was holding by the base and wiggling at my neighbour, and while I would have liked to have Paul climb on my lap and ride my rigid pole, that would have to wait for another day.

Paul obediently assumed his place between my spread legs like he was kneeling at an altar, grabbing my cock from me and lowering his mouth onto it, his right fist spinning and pumping while he gamely sucked on the throbbing tool. All the time his left hand was churning my nuts, kneading and twisting the wrinkled pouch as I felt myself about to cum.

I warned my neighbour as I felt myself ready to pop my load, but he barely blinked as I coated his throat and his head kept bobbing up and down long after I stopped cumming. Eventually, after going limp I almost had to pry my young friend of my limp cock because minutes later he still had me in his mouth and was suckling on my spent tool with his cheeks nestled in my pubic hair.

Even after Paul lifted his head, he cleaned me up, skinning back my foreskin and using his tongue to swab me thoroughly before climbing up on the couch next to me and hugging me.

“Thank you,” Paul said for some reason, but I let him hug me, enjoying the way he gravitated to my nipple to nurse on it like a baby before I told him I had better get going.

“You’re going upstairs to take care of Melody, I hope?” I said after we stood up, nodding toward his dick which was hard yet again.

“She’s probably sleeping,” Paul suggested, and then added, “I meant that… about not minding if you ended up coming over to be with Melody. Besides Sundays she has Mondays off.”

“I’m not a home wrecker,” I reminded Paul.

“I love her, but she deserves to be able to experience something like that at least once,” Paul responded as he nodded toward my dead dick. “And what you said about… you know… doing what you said you would do to me?”

“What was that again?” I asked while knowing full well what he meant, but wanting him to say it.

“About… taking me anally,” Paul mumbled.

“We’ll see, Paul,” I said as I bid him farewell, and while wandering home, I was musing about who the call would come from; Paul, Melody or the two of them?

Read Part 2


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