Going Out to Get Bread

I sat in my car, my whole body shaking. I grabbed the steering wheel to stop my hands from trembling. I could hear my heart thumping in my chest, hard and fast. How could I have done what I had just did? Was I that desperate? That hungry for dick? Me? The successful single 52 year-old man?

I never married but I stayed in the closet maintaining a discrete gay life, mostly on the down low. I never took chances with other men or sustained a long relationship with any. I needed to protect my reputation and my position. But now? I did that? Here?

I ran the events in my mind, and my body kept shaking as I brought back what I would have thought impossible to have happened. I had woken up with a morning bone, as usual. I had showered and jacked off, sad at the thought that I hadn't had sex since the pandemic started some ten or eleven months ago. I knew that it wasn't wise to have sex with someone and run the risk of catching the virus. This was an important part of my life: being careful and not taking risks.

I had lingered over breakfast and coffee, enjoying my Saturday morning. Needing to get some bread, I donned sweatpants and a loose sweatshirt, put on my facemask, and drove the couple of blocks to the local bakery, one of the few places that were open under the lockdown.

Picking up a loaf of bread and a bag of biscuits, I had stood in line to pay. There was a woman ahead of me with piles of all kinds of bread and stuff, but I waited patiently keeping a safe distance. The bakery door opened and in walked this very tall, very slender, very young-looking guy, wearing a hood and low-hanging jeans. I automatically glanced down at the crotch, a habit of mine to check crotches, and my eyes had frozen.

Outlined in the tight jeans was what seemed like a large banana stretching the denim fabric sideways. I couldn't remove my eyes as the young guy walked in and towards me. When I looked up, I saw his eyes staring at me. I thought I had noticed a smirk under his facemask and his dark brown eyes glinted with a kind of mischievous look, apparently noticing the way I had stared at his crotch.

Then he had winked at me and crossed over into the store. My heart had skipped a beat at the wink. Had it really been a wink? Or had I imagined it to be so? Had my sex-starved mind been playing tricks on me?

As the woman started to count out cash for her purchases, I had felt a breath at the side of my neck, and before I could turn around, I heard a gruff whisper in my ear: "I will let you play with it for a 20, old man."

Had I heard right? Let me play with it? It? His "banana"? The cheek of this guy. And how had he known? So ok, I had stared a bit too long at his crotch. I mean he was packing. Big!

Starting to feel my body shake, I had turned around. The guy had stepped back, still facing me, and gave me another wink. Then, he had turned and sauntered towards the back of the bakery to where the toilets were. My mind was screaming at me to hold back, but my feet, as if moving on their own, had headed behind the kid into the toilet, driven by some unseen magnetic force that I couldn't resist. The door locked. The kid had leaned his tall lanky body against the sink, thrusting his pelvis forward, his outlined dick bulging.

"Go ahead, old man. Take it out and play with it."

No hesitation. I had immediately undone the couple of buttons and fished out the monster cock after I handed out a 20 and placed it on the sink shelf. I had watched in a daze as the young cock hardened inside my fist, throbbed, thickened. My estimation? The fucking cock must have been longer than 9 inched. Maybe 10 or 11. And thick. And veined. Cut with bulbous knob, more pinkish than the rest of the rod.

"Another 20 and you can suck it," the kid whispered cheekily.

Another 20 had joined the first. Pulling away my facemask. Dropping onto my knees. Stretching my jaws. Taking the cock knob in. From far away, I had heard my muffled moans as I swallowed.

Had it been a minute or ten or twenty? With no warning, the guy pulled out and stuffed his hard dick back into his jeans. I looked up to see if I had bit into his dick as I was sucking on it. There decidedly was a smirk on his face, now that his mask was off, revealing a light beard, full masculine jaw and lips, flared nostrils.

"The extra 20 doesn't include my sperm, old man."

By then, I was totally lost. No reason. No caution. No discretion. I needed that huge boy cock so bad. I fished out a 50. The cock popped back out. The guy held my head and thrust. He fucked my face hard. He exploded down my gagging throat. There was no warning except the thickening of the shaft and the sudden hit of squirts at the back of my mouth and down my throat. It had been such a long time since I took cock that the ejaculation had hit me by surprise, making me swallow the cum as it shot over and over inside my hungry mouth.

"Hot fucking old cocksucker, dude," the guy had snickered as he sauntered out of the toilet, leaving me totally dazed, sore jaws and salt-and-pepper trimmed beard covered with semen, on my knees, smacking my lips.

I had rushed out of the bakery without picking up the bread and biscuits.

In the car, I was still shaking. I swallowed, the boy cum taste still strong in my mouth. My eyes squeezed shut as the scene played over and over in my head. My own cock was rock hard inside my sweats, throbbing, aching for release.

It could have been five minutes when I was startled by a light knock on my window. There was the guy, his brown eyes staring at me.

Pushing down on the button to open the window, I gazed back. The boy was beautiful.

"That was a good head, old man," he said.

I nodded, speechless.

"You can have more than that if you're willing to fork out more bread."

"You a male whore?" I croaked.

He stared hard at me, and then smiled: "As much a male whore as you are a fucking old faggot cock sucking bitch."

"Get in the car, bitch," I retorted with a smile. No hesitation. No discretion. Totally taken over.

I drove back to my place, my mind in a whirlwind. Why was I taking such a risk? So the kid had an amazing dick. So I was starved for dick. So my own dick throbbed painfully. I glanced at him and shivered: he looked so handsome and young. "Sam," I croaked.

"Hey, Sam," the kid laughed. "Call me Adam."

He reached and pinched my cheek. What the fuck? As if I were his fucking girl. But I loved it. There had to be a 30-year difference between us. I was the older one, the wiser one, the more mature one, but with Adam I submitted. Since his first whisper, resonating in my mine over and over, "I will let you play with it", the kid owned me.

When we got to my place, we didn't waste any time. I had to take him in my mouth again, to feel his youth inside my throat, to take in his scent with my nose buried into his thick pubes.

Adam was slim, smooth. His tall body towered over me as I sucked him. His hands grabbed my head and his thrusts were forceful, bringing tears to my eyes as I swallowed and gagged and choked.

"Get on the fucking bed," Adam pulled out and stroked his wet cock. "You want this cock up your faggot ass, don't you, Sam?"

I nodded, got naked, and lay on the bed, gazing at him standing tall and naked and hard and beautiful.

Adam, smirking, climbed on the bed and settled on his knees between my thighs, bringing his cockhead closer, teasing my balls and taint with the knob. Smirking. Teasing. Electrifying.

"You got protection, old man?" he asked, rubbing the head round and round my ring.

I was in a place where protection was the least on my mind. I needed this kid. Deep. Hard. Skin to skin.

Reaching up, I brought Adam's face down and mumbled: "Do me, kid. Fuck me bare."

"Fuck," he laughed. "You're a real bitch, Sam."

His penetration was forceful and deliberate. No gentle preparation. Just the spit and pre-cum from my earlier sucking. He penetrated and drove balls deep. I screamed into the pillow. My hole hadn't been stretched for a long time. And the rod that was forcing its way in was no joke. Thick ten inches of hard meat could do damage. And damage it did as inch after inch stretched my tunnel and pushed back my bowels.

"You like that, faggot?" He leaned on top of me, grabbing my ankles to stretch my legs wider. "You know you look like a fucking faggot pussy, don't you?" He grinded on my butt cheeks. "You got a tight pussy, faggot. A tight fucking faggot pussy. Sucking my dick in."

He kept tantalizing me, trying to humiliate me, not even starting to fuck me, just buried in deep and grinding and calling me names. And I fucking loved it. I wallowed in it. As much I hungered for him to drill me, I was in paradise just having him deep inside me and grinding and cursing me out.

Adam kept his stream of "faggot" and "bitch" as he started to pound. He pulled out until the knob was just inside my ring, then thrust full length back in, gradually increasing his tempo. The kid knew how to fuck ass. I moaned and squirmed and begged for more. He grunted and slapped my butt and spit into my open mouth. I wrapped my legs around his waist and ran my fingers up and down his back. He pulled my hair, bit my neck, and rammed my hole.

The fucking was amazing. The pain almost unendurable. He would pull the shaft out, spit on it, then drive back in, making my tunnel more slippery. With every thrust, the shaft massaged my prostate. My dick kept its erection and started to dribble onto my belly as he fucked me. With the increased piston action, I ejaculated. Hard. Hitting his smooth chest and arching all the way to my face, my hair, my mouth.

I knew that my ring muscle was spasming on his cock because he threw his head back, his adam's apple bobbing, his cock swelling, and he dumped his load inside me.

"Oh fuck, bitch. Take my fuck juice, faggot. Fuck, Sam, yeah, I'm fucking breeding your faggot cunt."

Adam came big. I could actually feel the huge load. He pulled out, spread drips of cum round my hole then shoved back in. I knew that he was probably emulating porn flicks, but I loved it even though my ass was burning like hell.

Adam finally climbed off of me.

"I need to take a piss, old man," he said, holding his semi-erect cock. "Want some of that, too?"

Oh my God, the kid was really a hustler. I wasn't into piss but I was tempted.

"No Adam," I replied, "but I will hold it for you as you pee."

He laughed. "What a faggot cunt, Sam," he said as he sauntered toward the bathroom, with me right at his heels, gazing at the firm, bubbled, young, fuzzy butt cheeks ripple with each step.

Standing behind Adam, I held his cock and guided it toward the bowl. The stream of piss was steaming and strong, splashing around the toilet bowl, never ending. I had been young once, and my peeing had also been strong. But Adam's pissing was a phenomenon in itself. His cock pulsating as the urine flowed through and shot out. This was my first experience with pissing.

Adam turned his head sideways. "You're enjoying all this, you sick fuck."

I uncharacteristically laughed, as I shook his dick letting out the last drops of slit, and feeling him erect in my hand. I was able to stretch up and lick the back of his nape enjoying the feeling of his warm back on my bare chest. I also erected against his lower back and grinded on him, moaning.

"And you love taunting me, Adam," I said, lightly biting into his shoulder muscle.

He responded by turning around, pushing me against the sink, grabbing my legs and hitching me up to straddle his waist, exposing my sore butt. He fucked me. His arms around me, his mouth on mine, his cock ploughing deep into my screaming ass. And that was Adam's third load. The kid knew that his servicing me like that was going to pay well. Actually it did, but the money was worth it.

Covid19? Fuck that. I took the risk and I am glad I did. So fucking what? I would catch the virus eventually, better from one of the hottest sex sessions I had ever experienced.