One Top Turns Another: Pt. 01

Brandon is proven he, too, can be "turned." Meet his "match" in older Tom.

"So did you get your shower, young man," Tom asked.

"Yeah, finally fresh and settled," I told him. "A 12-hour day in the lumber yard has come to a close, and I need to unwind."

"Unwind? I bet. You seem like your ass is kicked," he said as we talked over the phone.

We touched base on one of the hookup sites I usually check when I need a quick nut, as I checked the site prior to leaving for work. I did my shift as one of the foremen of the yard and not once did I look at my phone. He happened to message me when I got home, and I warned him I needed to take a shower after the day me and my crew had freezing our asses off. I gave him my number, and he had the best timing as he called when I finished.

"I see your profile, and it says you work as a lead foreman of machinists? How the hell are you in the line of work? You're so eloquent in the way you speak? You're super handsome. How the hell are you doing manual labor," he asked.

In all my profiles I mentioned how I once was a college football player that majored in print journalism, giving a little background to see I was more than a good fuck. I read Tom's, as we forged an instant connection from the fact of he being a former college professor, one that just retired after 40 years in the profession, still an emeritus at the big time, educationally elite college not too far from where I lived in Durham. He pondered how I could go from being a writer, to someone who got their hands dirty in a place full of perceived deadbeats, but I explained I liked using my hands, and that the lumber yard paid good money, with good people I worked beside.

"Mr. Dogooder. I'd love to have you over to my place, maybe have a couple glasses of wine," he said.

"Tom, I'm beat, dude," I told him.

"You not in the mood to play company tonight? I'd really appreciate your presence, young man," he said to me. "I can guarantee it will be worth your while."

I had to reread Tom's profile as it stated "emphatically a top." I mentioned this, as I was trying to convince this man that I was not a bottom, or anything close to the sort.

"I enjoyed being the guy getting sucked, or demanding another man to lend me his ass for my pleasure," I said to him.

"The latter I don't qualify, but the former, oh, that's a bet if given the opportunity," he said. "I got this wine I just purchased, and I don't wanna drink it alone, so if nothing else, come have a drink with me?"

He sent me a photo of the cabernet. He scored cool points for I mentioned in my profile that I enjoyed drinking good wines, so he knew I was one who indulged in classy spirits.

"Tom, I'm tired," I told him, giving him one last warning.

"No you're not. You're horny, or else you wouldn't be talking to me. Come over. Can stay the night if you like. We don't even have to have sex," he said to me.

I decided to take another shower "just in case something would happen," put on some clean workout gear, then hopped in the truck to his place, as he lived 40 miles east of me in the boonies. It was early winter, and the temperatures seemed to be 10 degrees cooler compared to where my apartment was located. It was also much darker, for he lived in the country, an area that had no street lights, street lamps, and used the moon as illumination as you heard nothing but dogs howling and chickens clucking in the distance. I parked at his place as he lived in a one-story, preserved wooden home on a raised foundation, surrounded by what seemed like millions of crops of corn. He was in the door, his five foot nine, 200 lb. frame turning out the porch lamp as he wore a robe, jeans and slippers, despite how cold it was.

"Who wears a robe over jeans," I asked.

"A white guy that does what he wants at 70 years old, young man," he told me.

I walked inside his wooden home as I heard the creaks in the hardwood floor. The place was warm, orderly, clean, with a fire place burning and reeking of freshly baked cookies and potpourri. He had a large, flat screened television turned to a Judge Judy episode. The place just looked comfortable.

"Okay, so you can give me a kiss," he said.

He shut the door behind me, then hugged me, kissing me next as he had his robe open to expose his gray chest hairs, and dad bod pectorals.

"Gawt damn boy, you're tall," he said, for I was six foot five, 280 lbs. "Nice, big boy. I like it. Gon' and siddown."

I would, and became nervous as I wasn't sure what the night would bring.

"Kid, are you trembling? Relax, get comfortable, please," he suggested. "I'm not gonna bite you, unless that's what you want? Want anything to snack on with your wine?"

I laid back on his couch as he went into the kitchen to get a couple of glasses from his cabinet. I looked up at him, and he looked at me, then came over to me, bending to kiss me as his mustache pressed against my upper lip while his tongue invaded my mouth.

"Boy, you need to relax, okay? I want you here with me. I ain't gon' hurtcha. You ain't never been with a white man before," he asked, as his hands slid inside my shirt to rub my nipples and make me squirm.

"Tom, that's my spot," I said.

"I know it is. You know you like them nipples played with, I did my homework. Daddy's gonna wanna take those shorts off of you, but first, I want you to relax. I ain't gon' do nothing to ya," he said with a laugh.

The truth was I'd never been with a white guy who wasn't submissive.

"You want some cookies and wine," he asked.

Outside of him offering the goodies, he was a sure headed top, one that was confident, yet made me feel more submissive for the first time. He reached in and kissed me again.

"I'm gonna have to get you loose tonight," he whispered.

"Cookies and wine? What kinda diabetic combo is that," I said, with a laugh.

He laughed, too, then walked off while explaining to me the cookies, of which he made from scratch, were conjured from a French biscotti recipe, and the wine would compliment them. I accepted the offer, and he took the treats out of the oven and placed them on a plate, then poured two long glasses of wine, and came back over to me, serving me the glass as we toasted.

"Here's to friendship, and not flaking out on me," he said, before we raised our glasses and sipped.

He fed me a cookie.

"This is delicious," I said.

He fed me another, then fed me my glass so I could take another sip of wine.

"Listen to your elders, son," he said, before playfully sticking his hand in my shirt to pinch my nipples.

He made me giggle, and would remove the wine and cookies so we could frolic, as he tried to tickle me. I'd end up moving my shirt, as the playfulness gave way to us being serious.

"There you go, bubba," he said to me.

He licked and nibbled on both nipples as I got hot, and so I begged he take my shorts off.

"I got a better idea, let's get naked in front of the fireplace," he said to me.

I got undressed fully, then he tossed me a pillow from the couch as I laid on my back and placed it under my neck. He came over after climbing out of his pants and robe, showing off his nude, hairy dad bod and a weeping dick that was rock hard.

"How big are you," I asked.

"Seven or eight inches. I don't know, just know I'm big enough," he said, as he kissed me again.

We laid side by side on the pillow making out, as we touched on each other. I squeezed on my sensitive nipples and my dick bounced, as it touched his.

"So who's sucking who," I asked.

"How about we suck each other," he suggested.

And we would, as we commenced a "69" with him on top, taking me down his throat, and gently rubbing my balls as he face fucked me from his position. I could only moan, him grinding and showing his superiority as he was on top with his waist covering my face. I'd feel his mustache tickling my balls, then that tongue brushing against my hole as he pushed my thighs backward.

"Let me lick you," he whispered.

I didn't have a choice as I allowed him to do me, his tongue pilfering space inside of me as he explored the tight crevice, making me lose concentration on his throbbing stick.

"I think you want this old fart to fuck you. That hole is whispering to me," he said. "Let daddy fuck you, kid?"

"You can fuck me," I told him, as he made me 'yield' to another top for the first time.

His cock was dripping precum on my chin as he got up, and I took my finger to wipe it and taste it, as it was sweet.

"Keep those open for me," he said, referring to my thighs.

He reached around me to grab a bottle of lube off the floor, as he opened the top and poured a little bit on my hole, then some in his hand to stroke his prick, jerking it a bit right before he penetrated me.

"This is the first time I've done this Tom. Please be gentle," I said to him.

"Here we go," he said, as he tapped the edge, then punched in while holding my hands down.

It hurt like hell as he took my cherry, but I didn't run, for I took it like the undercover bottom I became. He dug in deep enough to where I felt his balls pressed against the top of my ass. He kept it there for a moment, raising up slightly to look me in the eye, then lowering again so we could kiss.

"This feels incredible, kid," he said to me. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, never better," I told him, lying through my teeth as that pulsating knob of his made my hole spasm.

He knew I fibbed and so he pulled out abruptly, licked my hole for a couple more minutes to make me squirm and beg, then he gave it again, this time not as hard as my ass adjusted to the penetration.

"How you like it, Tom," I asked.

"Baby, I think I could get used to fucking you," he answered.

He went slow as he kept my legs up while he grinded on me, digging in me at a pace that was comfortable enough to where I'd get used to him. He was "feeling around" inside of me, trying to find the spot that would make me wither, when he saw my reaction.

"That's it right there," he asked. "Daddy make it feel good?"

He tapped the prostate gland and I couldn't get enough, his rock hard tool pressing against it repeatedly in not a violent manner, but slow and steady to where I'd feel the precum leaking out of my cock. He looked down at me and smiled, and I smiled back, right before he rose to exit, then slipped back in to pound, going back and forth frantically, and automatically causing me to crash, as in orgasm and shoot a nut from own dick without the touch of him or me.

"Holy shit, boy," he said, and he'd commence pounding after I came all over myself.

I was loving the feeling of getting fucked, for the tables had turned for me as I usually was the one to cause this type of impact. I for sure was Tom's bottom, after speculating I would never be able to play this role, or take cock in any way, shape, or fashion. He drilled me continuously, having me moan loudly as he took over, now holding my ankles together as he had my hole completely stretched.

"Good, got damned pussy you got here," he said.

He gave a few more strokes as the friction of his cock became a little much. Thankfully, he came right when things got sore, pulling his cock out of me, and placing it above my head as he shot that warm liquid in my eyebrows, then literally spreading it with his cock tip as he grunted.

Later on after finishing, we remained by the fireplace discussing what happened, and how much he truly enjoyed me. I at first thought he was kicking me out, but then he reiterated he didn't want to be alone.

"You're not going anywhere," he said. "Shit, we gotta go for round two later."

We'd cut off the fireplace an hour or so later, as well as the television and all the living room lights as we made our way to his huge bedroom to sleep. When midnight hit, I felt him nibbling on my ear, and it was on, all over again.

To be continued.