2017 gay sex stories: At the Bridge – by NormJohnson. This is based on a person I met, but the return and sex is fantasy. Unless I decide to try and find him again…
2017 gay sex stories: At the Bridge
Fantasy, Bi-sexual, Gay, Mature
Went for a ride on the remote end of our local rail trail. This is “lightly improved”, so it requires a mountain bike, so I took that one today. I’m the social sort, so I make it a point to visit with people that I meet. And it was a nice fall day, so there were more people out that I’d expected, despite this being pretty far out of the city. At one trail head, there was a group of local club riders, two men and two women, who were taking a break. I stopped for a snack myself and chatted with them for a while. Farther on, a guy was going the other way while I was stopped to take off my jacket; he said he hadn’t ridden far.
Later, when I was ready for another stretch break, there was a thirty-something man who looked to be enjoying the view down from the creek bridge. I probably spent 15 minutes there, we talked a bit about his favorite sport and team, he’s a big Eagles fan. He was very friendly, very animated, and was very polite. He called me Sir a couple of times, and he wasn’t even raised in the South. I introduced myself and he said his name was Michael; on parting he said he’d see me again on the trail. Then I went on my way. But later in the day, I started to think something was unusual. You know, I think he may have been coming on to me. Maybe has a thing for older guys (I’m 63).
I’ve been divorced for about two years. Although I was hetero during my marriage, I had a couple of affairs with men when I was younger. I’ve considered going there again. Maybe I’ll head out there again this Saturday and see if he’s around, maybe sense out what his motives are.
Saturday came around, and the weather was pretty good again. Not quite shorts weather, but not terribly cold or windy. I parked near where the creek bridge was, got the bike off the rack and headed out. Sure enough, he was there again. He seemed very happy to see me and I went with the flow. We shook hands; I took my time at breaking contact and he seemed in no rush either. We talked about what we’d done over the last week, just normal work weeks for both of us. I’d brought along some chips and offered to share; he had some beers in his racktop. We went to the side of the trail, laid or bikes down and sat on a grassy spot. I could still see both ways on the trail, there was nobody around.
“Not many riders today,” Michael said. “Maybe because it’s cooler.”
I agreed. “I thought about not riding today, but I enjoyed it so much last week that I decided to try it again. Hey, I brought some chips, you hungry?”
“Sure! And I brought a couple of beers. Want one?” I accepted.
We opened the chips and beers and dug in. At one point, I paused and looked him in the eye, then asked, “I was wondering, do you come out here because you like to meet new people?”
He replied, “Yes, I do like to meet people. I liked seeing you last week. Honestly, I think I like older men better than people my own age.”
I said, “Do you like older men in particular? Stop me if I’m out of line, but I’m guessing you may be interested in more than friendship.”
He slowly smiled, then moved his hand to his crotch and slowly rubbed it. “Now what gave you that idea?”
I looked at his hand for a few seconds, then smiled at him and said, “You’re a very friendly guy. Other than that, it was just a hunch.”
Michael responded with, “Do you have other interests too?”
“Yes, Michael, I do.” Now it was my turn to touch myself. One hand went to the lump that was developing in my pants, with the other I felt my chest. “But here’s the deal. I’m being cautious here. I’d like to see you, and show myself, and use our hands, but no more than that. Are you good with that?”
He groaned, then said, “I’d love that. I love to see a hard cock and handle it.”
“Me too,” I said. “I like penis, and cocks of all sizes. Tell me about yourself.”
He continued stroking, and said, “I’m bisexual; my last relationship was with a girl, and a fine one at that.”
“Very trim but nicely shaped. I never thought little tits could be so hot.”
I steered the conversation back to us. “How about you, what are you like?”
“I’m an average sized guy, cut. I’ve been told I have a handsome cock.”
I said, “Mmm, sounds inviting. I’m divorced, but when I was younger I had a couple of suck buddies. As for the package, I’m a little bigger than average, about 7″, also cut. I love having my balls played with too.” I took a look down the trail both ways; the coast was clear, so I leaned back and unbuckled my pants. I got up on my knees and pulled down my pants. Michael stared at the lump in my underwear, moaned and said, “Shit man, nice lump.”
“Give it a feel.” He reached over and laid his hand along my bulge; having someone touch me made me throb. I said, “So what do you want, Michael? Do you want to handle my big old cock?”
“Fuck yes!” He started to pull down my undies, but I stopped him. “Tell me what you want. Ask for it.”
Michael moaned a little, then said, “I want to take down your shorts and play with your fat old man cock.”
I was done teasing, I wanted his hands on me as much as he wanted to put them there. I leaned forward, and he reached for the waist band of my shorts. He pulled it out and over my cock, which flopped out across the shorts and pointed right at him. Michael actually whined, and wrapped his fingers around my shaft, and just held it for a moment. I throbbed again, and I grunted.
He began to stroke me, and kept at it for a couple of minutes. As good as that felt, I was wanting to do some touching too. “Michael, I want to see your man meat.” He let go of me and went up to kneeling, and unbuckled his belt. Now it was his turn to tease. He opened his pants very slowly, as I stared at his crotch. Then he pulled his underwear down and exposed a very handsome, very stiff cock and some nicely hanging balls. I reached over and took his cock in my hand. It was so hard! He reached for me again, and we stroked each other’s cocks.
Suddenly, I heard a bike hit the ramp at the other end of the bridge. We quickly covered up, and a pair of guys came blasting across and went by us in a flash. I suggested, “Let’s go under the bridge.” We grabbed our bikes and crawled around the bridge end and found a flat spot. He sat down, and I knelt over him and opened his pants again. His cock was still hard, and I began to stroke it. I also pulled up his shirt and exposed his chest, and tweaked his nipple. I stroked him slowly at first, then a bit faster. My other hand moved to his balls and cupped them as I stroked. Then I felt his hand on my zipper, and he pulled my pants down over my ass. He grabbed my dick with one hand and squeezed my ass cheek with the other.
It wasn’t long before he started to breathe hard, and told me he was almost there. I started working faster and talking dirty. “I want to see your cum squirt out of that beautiful dick, Michael. Shoot it for me.” He began to grunt, and hump up into my hand. I stroked faster and he said, “Oh fuck, fuck, uhhh, uhhh, uhhh….”, then he shot a long stream of jism out and all over his belly. I quickly scooped some up and spread it over his throbbing dick, and stroked slowly for a minute.
Now I needed to cum. I put his hands on my balls and put my cummy hand on my own shaft. Michael said, “Cum on me, please!” I only had to give myself a few strokes then started to groan as my orgasm rose. Just as I was about to explode, I pointed my stiff old cock at his boner, and cummed all over his dick. He did the same as I had, and got some in his hand and stroked me, which kept me high for a nice while.
We both enjoyed the afterglow for a minute. Then he said, “You don’t know how bad I wanted to suck your big cock.” I replied, “I felt the same, but for now I’m staying with hands. I hope your cum was as good as mine.
He smiled and nodded. We relaxed, finished our beers and rode out. We exchanged phone numbers; maybe we’ll get together again.1