PG13's Blogs

Jean’s a much better tennis player than I. So it was an unexpected pleasure to be asked for some games. Although I was unlikely to win, it would be fun just to play at my limit for a while. Not for that long, though, as I’m ‘no longer young’. What made the pleasure tantalising was the chance to watch Jean move his lean, wiry body on the courts – even though his was also no longer young. We played two sets. Of course I lost – 6-2, 6-4 – but they were good sets. Interesting and fun. I needed some discipline not to get distracted by his lithe fluidity.

After, chattering happily we took our warm and sweaty selves to the locker room. We walked to a quiet aisle, and I was glad to sit down, bending forward on my elbows. Jean continued standing, beside me at first. But then he moved, suddenly as if he’d made a decision, to stand right in front of me, so I was looking right at his crotch. Our conversation continued, but it was clear we would soon be done talking, at least as far as I was concerned. His shorts were nicely fitted to his hips, not tight, making his crotch an object of my growing desire. I know my voice changed, then I Looked up to his face. There was a flash between us. He moved closer to me. The scent of his sweat was charged with lust. And I could see the outline of his cock, an erection growing as I watched. I knew the next move was mine, and I lifted my left hand to his ass, finding it as taut as I hoped. My right hand kept me from falling over as my lips met his hidden member. We both moaned. The hardness of his cock felt magical and magisterial, authoritative, against my lips. I experienced it right then as an instrument of great power, one which I wished to win over and wished to serve.

“Viens avec moi” he whispered, and we hurried to a stall. Me on the seat; he standing before me, this time with his pants down, his cock out. No giant member, but a good size nonetheless: and so hard and so inviting. In future times I would give him a blow job with a relaxed and measured pacing, riding to a slow climax. Not this time. I did take a minute to tongue his length, lick his balls. What captivating smells and tastes! But I needed his cock at the back of my throat. As I kissed his glans, tongued his opening already tasting of precum, Jean growled “Vite, je t’en supplie”, which was all I needed to slide him into my mouth: not all at once, but as soon as lubrication and breathing would allow. As his cockhead came to press open my throat, I could feel and smell his bristly hair.

Our movements synchronized. He slowly fucked my face, while I lubed and sucked his cock. His thrusts became deeper, and my need more urgent. I grabbed his ass (god I wanted to get into that!) and took him in as deep as he could go. I could feel his body begin to tremble, his cock seemed to grow in size. He was already breathing hard but it began to come in gasps. I moved a little back to receive and savour. His cum flowed like a flood. At first I had to fight not to choke; I was able to swallow a lot but my face and chin were covered in cum. I did get a chance to savour; the taste and texture were perfect: pungent salty, smooth like cream. Jean leaned down to kiss me licking up the cum on my face. Maybe he swallowed some, as our first kiss on the lips was filled with the taste of his cum.
We broke, but we clearly weren’t finished with each other’s bodies. After a quick “Your place or mine?”, we ended up at his place. Coming into his ordered but soft apartment, I followed his lead in removing clothes on the way to his bedroom. Naked, his body was all I could have wanted, exactly my dream type. Ageing, yes, but still taut. And such a sweet ass. It was small and tight, with deep dimples, but a tiny bit droopy. And hairy. Good grief I wanted that ass!

He might have cum twenty minutes before but he was hard again. Of course I had been hard, and then semi-hard during transport, and I was now hard again, probably even harder. I did want to fuck him, but I also wanted to be fucked by him. So when he moved on top of me, our cocks frotting together, I thought it was a prelude to him entering me. When he reached over me to take a tube of lube, I opened my legs a little expecting to have them raised for his entry. Imagine my surprise when I felt the lube on my cock, administered by a soft finger massage. I closed my legs and positioned my hips to enter him. I wish I could have seen his ass, but the site of his narrow hips and hard cock was lovely too. Still more beautiful was the look on his lean and craggy face. He was smiling, but his eyes were closed. As the tip of my cock found his hole, his eyes snapped open. He pressed down on me, opening his gate. His head moved back, his mouth opened as I entered him. He began to tremble, his forehead furrowed, he seemed to be in pain. He gave a loud moan, but still pressed down. Despite his seeming submission to the supremacy of my cock, Jean was still in charge. He was controlling the pace. When he pulled out some, we both gasped. He pushed down again, harder, and this time cried out. But he started to move up and down, taking me in and out, clearly intent on taking all of me. His face and his body were covered in sweat. There were a few more cries, but then I was all the way in, my groin firmly pressed against his ass. The soft tight moist wrapping of his ass against me was just bliss for me. I also enjoyed the power of possession; his ass was mine! The pain on his face had morphed into a wide grin of triumph. He lowered his torso down to me, we kissed. “Now you can fuck me”. And so we rolled over and I was on top of Jean. Moving slowly but with deep thrusts, Jean’s cries were now of ecstasy. He glued his body to mine as we rocked, he was frantic to be kissed, to be penetrated by my tongue, suck my spit. I breathed his moans. I’m surprised I lasted as long as I did. The waves of pleasure crashed higher and higher. His orgasm set me off. It was preceded by a scream, his face moving back a rictus of sensation. I could feel large pulses of cum on my stomach. As I poured myself into him, he first heaved against me then held my hips locked against him. We lay together for a while. As I moved off his, I leaned down to savour some of his cum – he had produced another flood – swallowed some, held some in my mouth, spread some on my face. We kissed and he shared with him the cum in my mouth. He licked my face.

We rested, both with idiot grins on our faces. We had never talked all that much during tennis games, apart from friendly rivalry and small talk. So we had our first conversation, and I was so pleased that he was a pleasant and knowledgeable person. We were side by side holding hands. And I swear only about another twenty minutes later he took my hand and put it on his cock, which was growing hard again. I was pleased to be sure, but I did ask myself whether this guy was limitless in his sexual power and drive. We weren’t young men! But then the most important question occurred to me: what did he want to do with that cock? He leaned over to my face and whispered: “I’d like to fuck you.” Something about the way he said it – almost asking permission - told me I would have choice in how I was to be fucked. So I rolled over onto my stomach and spread my legs. I was so eager to have his cock in my ass and his body against me that I nearly missed the magic of his lips and his tongue on my hole. His whole face was in my crack, it felt attached to me. He was right into it, licking and tonguing and sucking with zest. By the time he withdrew my ass was begging for his cock.

For me it is rare that anal entry is effortless. I can take quite large cocks, but it takes a little time. Jean’s cock was large enough to cause hurt if I were not prepared. But I was so ready that he slid into me in one slow thrust. I did gasp a bit towards the end, as I felt my whole body was possessed by his penis. Then I felt his pubic hair against me and his body relax on top of mine. We both relaxed. I felt fully taken but very safe. Our kisses were gentle. This time there was not the urgency of our first two encounters. I was going to be fucked for a while. He touched and stroked my body and my face, put his fingers in my mouth. And we talked as he moved gently within me. Our talk was mostly about sex, and I was induced to give submissive answers to his questions: if I gave an answer he liked he would move in a certain way that sent a wave of pleasure through me, and a wish to be fucked hard. He was slowly building up another massive wave of desire in me. I realized my hips were moving against him. He began his run up to climax by a slow withdrawal of his full length. My moan, it was more of a whimper, was for the loss of his hardness within me. His thrust back in was faster and harder than the first, my eyes bugged a bit as he passed through my opening, but my whole body wanted his member inside me and I felt joy and relief and ecstasy as he came all the way inside me. And then he was rutting, all subtlety gone. I was floating somewhere in a cloud of pleasure, feeling the extreme joy of penetration, of being owned. As he came he slowed to a more gentle rhythm, punctuated by a hard deep thrust.

For a long time he lay with his full weight on me, breathing hard, kissing me. As he withdrew, he turned me over, to see if I had cum. I hadn’t but I was full and very close. His mouth on my cock was very gentle. He took me into his mouth so very slowly, the sensation building and building. He took me all the way in, my groin pressed hard against his lips. And I was mostly still within him, except for the sensation explosion of his suction and his swallowing. I wanted to thrust hut he help me close as he worked, only releasing as I was well over the top. His hands were on me as I thrust into him again and again, as the wave or orgasm crested and crashed.

This whole experience was another reason to love tennis.