The Widower's Club Chapter 10
This is a story about man on man sex. If this offends you please do not read further. Otherwise please enjoy this story which is the tenth chapter of a longer piece about mature widowers who take care of each other's needs. Thanks to those of you who took the trouble to email me a few line of encouragement for earlier chapters – such notes are the lifeblood of any author! I'd be very interested to receive your feedback and suggestions for future chapters. My email is zlatyblbec@yahoo.com
I've had a number of emails from readers who've said how they were in a similar situation to the guys in the story, and how they wished there was a similar group of friends in their area. If this is you, why not try to set one up? There are plenty of contact websites available throughout the world where you can be very explicit about what you're looking for. Perhaps even refer people to this story so that they get the idea! Imagine how different life could be...
Nifty is a superb free service for those who enjoy gay themed literature, but does need donations to continue doing its wonderful work.
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"You're a lucky man, George", I told him. "To have lived here all your life".
I was lying in George's bed, my arm around his shoulders with his head nestled into my armpit. We were both naked. The curtains were wide open and in the early morning winter sunshine we looked across the valley to the hills which had received a sprinkling of snow overnight.
"Yes, it's beautiful, isn't it," he replied. "I've only lived in this house for a couple of years, though. Since David took over the farm. Before that I was down in the big farmhouse. This was the cottage granddad built before I was born, when my dad took things over. We just renovated it for me after Paula died and I decided to take things a bit easier."
He moved his hand onto my torso and began to gently work the pool of semen that had collected there into my skin with the flat of his hand. Then he spread the stickiness a bit lower down my body and rubbed it around the upper reaches of my now pretty much deflated cock.
Since the threesome at Alan's a couple of Saturdays earlier, when I'd first met George, we'd enjoyed each other's company a few times. The intense lustfulness with which I'd originally approached man on man sex was now moderating a little. No longer was every encounter a voyage of new discoveries to be engaged in as vigorously as possible, as if there would be no tomorrow. Over the past few weeks quiet intimacy had become as important to me as lust, and my nights with other men were all the more pleasurable for that.
Last night, for example, I'd gone over to George's early in the evening with a meal from the Chinese takeaway, and we'd shared that and a bottle of wine over a game of Scrabble. Then we'd gone to bed and just laid naked in each other's arms for ages, talking of this and that. Our partners, our families, our lives in general. No ripping each other's clothes off and urgently grabbing each other's dicks, but instead a more gentle companionship. As we'd talked, from time to time one or other of us would gently massage the skin of the other and occasionally we'd kiss. Then, quite naturally, after a while, we ended up tossing each other off. No fucking in multiple positions, nor a long and drawn out 69ing session of mutual sucking. Just quietly relaxed pre-sleep mutual masturbation which ended with George erupting over himself, and me leaning over towards him to add my own load to the puddle he'd just made.
Then, in that lovely post-orgasmic semi-wakefulness I'd turned onto my side and George had spooned into me making my lower back and the top of my backside wet and sticky as bits of our combined loads rubbed off from his stomach to my body. And his wet penis, softening but still giving up the final few dregs of his orgasm, slid comfortably down into the crack between my buttocks making that moist as well. I vaguely remember him reaching over and cradling by own wet cock in his hand. And like that we fell asleep.
We'd slept the sleep of the dead, and it was becoming light by the time I woke up with a throbbing erection. George was still breathing heavily, but I couldn't resist the urge to move my hand into his groin to feel his dick. Like mine it was rock hard. I withdrew to the side of the bed, then put my head under the duvet and moved back across to seek out his penis with my mouth. It was deliciously grungy – bits of our late night ejaculations were crusted onto the head and shaft and the smell of dried semen mixed with the aroma of a man's early morning sweaty crotch set my own cock twitching. Somewhere in the middle of me sucking him he woke up and pushed the duvet down, at which point I started to massage his chest and belly – both caked with our dried loads from the night before – and to tease his nipple. It wasn't long before his breathing became heavier, his body tensed, his hips bucked and, letting out a deep groan, he began to pump his cum into my mouth.
A few months ago I didn't know it, but I love the taste of other men's cum. I'd tasted my own periodically down the years, of course, but that taste was nothing like what I'd experienced from the three other men – Alan, Doug and George – who'd ejaculated in my mouth over the last month or more. Perhaps it was down to the fact that when you're willingly sucking someone's dick and they shoot into your mouth at that moment you're probably intensely turned on, whereas to taste your own jizz you need to have already orgasmed, so your mind is in a different space? Who knows. All I know is that I love it when someone fires a huge load into my mouth. I try to keep as much of it as I can in my mouth for as long as I can to savour it, then I swallow a little and share the rest, very gently, over the cock that has provided the treat for me. Which is what I did for George.
When I'd milked him dry he reached over and started to wank my erect cock. It was very much what I'd called a `morning wank' when I was a student – no messing about, no edging, just a few minutes to work the already erect organ to sufficient excitement to vigorously expel the semen that had built up overnight. George got me there in a couple of minutes, at which point I yelled loudly and shot three or four times into the air with it landing all over my stomach.
George gently teased the last few drops of spunk out of the end of my dick, then began to lick the juices from my torso. After he'd cleaned me we laid back, pulled the duvet back over ourselves, and chewed the cud for a few more minutes before getting up and sharing a shower.
"You'll be coming to Thebes on Wednesday?" asked George as he soaped my back to remove the dried cum from the previous evening.
"Sure am. Alan's done a good job with his sales pitch and I can't wait. He's said he'll drive, and when we get there he'll show me the ropes."
Thebes is an upmarket gay spa in a town about thirty miles away. They're normally closed on a Wednesday afternoon, but on the second Wednesday of each month they open and play host to the Widowers Club. According to Alan you could get anything from 18 or 19 to as many as 50 or 60 mature widowers there, all certified as free from sexual infections, and all totally uninhibited and ready for five or six hours of naked fellowship with likeminded men, interspersed with periods of lusty sex. I couldn't wait.
o-O-o
Thebes spa was discretely situated in the middle of an industrial estate on the outskirts of town. Its large car park was round the back of the building and totally hidden from the road, as was the entrance, to ensure anonymity for anyone who didn't want it known that they visited such places. When we arrived the carpark was already half full but Alan was still able to park a couple of spaces away from the entrance door.
From the outside, apart from discreet signage, the spa appeared like a huge warehouse but inside, I was to discover, it was an oasis of delights for any man who enjoyed sex with other men.
Alan rang the bell at the entrance and after a short wait there was a click as the electronic lock disengaged allowing us to go inside. The door opened into a small lobby with a counter. Alan pulled from his wallet a laminated card which had the logo of the spa on one side, with the words "Widowers' Club" underneath, and a large number "87" on the reverse, and presented it to the man behind the counter. "I'm Alan," he said.
The attendant looked at a printed list on the counter, working down the numbered lines to confirm that against 87 was indeed the name `Alan'.
"And this is Roger, " Alan continued. "I can vouch for him, so he's joining today."
And that was the only formality required for me to become an official member of the Widowers Club. No application form, or declarations, or anything else. Alan had updated me on the club rules, which were few and simple – basically you had to have passed the STI screening, as I had done, and undertake to only have unprotected sex with other members of the club, and be vouched for by another current member. The man reached under the counter and brought up a stack of unused membership cards which were held together with an elastic band. He took the next one from the stack, and wrote my first name down on the membership register against which he'd checked Alan's name. "You're number 153", he told me. "All you need to do when you get here is to show your card and say what your first name is." He handed over the card. "And that's £20 each, please."
"I'll get these," said Alan. "My introductory treat."
I knew that arguing was pointless, so we didn't go through that rigmarole. I let him pay for us both knowing that over time swings and roundabouts would even everything out. Once he'd paid we were each given a large and very fluffy white towel, and Alan led me past the desk into the locker room.
"Choose whichever empty locker you want," Alan told me as he opened the door. "The dress code is naked, pretty much. Cock rings, leather harnesses etc are acceptable, but apart from that everyone is totally nude. You leave this towel in the locker and only use it at the end."
"What about the sauna and pool etc" I asked.
"The wet area's all in the basement and there are towels down there for you to use. Saves you having to lug anything round with you. Let's you be naked and free all the time you're here."
I felt a shiver of excitement go through me as he said that. The idea of spending the afternoon completely nude with other naked men of my generation was a real turn on, and I couldn't get into the changing room and get my clothes off quickly enough.
Inside the locker room there were two men getting undressed. I chose a locker sideways on from them and began to strip off. I couldn't resist taking a furtive glance, and wondering if during the afternoon I'd have an encounter with either of them. My heart rate began to quicken. In a couple of minutes I would be wandering around a venue totally naked, in the company of dozens of other naked men, and we'd all be looking to have sex with each other. It was pretty heady stuff.
The two other men had chosen lockers next to each other, and were just removing their underwear as I took off my thin coat and hung it on the hook in the door of the locker. It's difficult to judge a man's age once he reaches a certain stage in his life, but I reckoned that both of these men were in their early seventies, and each of them had white hair. They were both a little on the tubby side, but nothing excessive, and as they slipped off their underpants I could see that both had all over tans.
"No need to be shy," one of them called across to me as he slipped his white Y Fronts off the bottom of his legs and turned to reveal an already erect cock. "It's not the school changing room! You don't need to pretend you're not interested in what you see! We're all here for a good time, so ogling's very much allowed. Obligatory, in fact!" He laughed "I'm Paul, and this reprobate..." he grabbed the erect penis of the man standing next to him, "is Martin."
I smiled, said hello to them and responded to Paul's words by taking a good look at the two of them as I continued to undress. They we both about my height and as brown as berries. Clearly they'd enjoyed a long summer outdoors. As I'd expected their pubes were completely hairless, and I could tell from the way that the skin on their erect dicks changed from very brown to pink about an inch from their cockheads that both of them had been circumcised. Having played around with Alan, Doug and George and watched a good deal of gay porn over the last month or so, I had to admit I was really beginning to appreciate the look of a cut cock, both flaccid and erect and at every stage between the two.
They closed their locker doors and set their PINs to secure them. "We'll see you later, I hope," Paul said as he opened the door at the far end of the room and the two of them entered into the venue proper.
I stared at their arses as they left – both seemed lovely and round and firm, and as with the trio of men I'd slept with in the past few weeks each had a small tattoo on their right buttock – a ram for Martin and a couple of fishes for Paul. It was quickly becoming obvious that this was the fashion for members of the club.
When they'd gone Alan laughed. "They're cards, those two. For reference Martin's got false teeth and gives the most amazing blow jobs. And you saw the size of Paul's cock. Wait till you get that inside you!"
The size of Paul's dick hadn't escaped me and the thought of what lay beyond had now made me quite hard. I slid off the jockstrap I was wearing and put it in my locker then removed my watch, which was the last thing I had on, and secured the locker. Alan had already beaten me to it, and stood starkers on the other side of the locker room. He too was erect in anticipation. He moved across, gave my dick a quick stroke, and placed a kiss on my lips.
"This is Level 0. There are three floors above us and one below. Top floor – Level 3 – is the sunbathing area – inside and out. Don't think that'll be much used today, but there can be a lot of action up there when the weather's warmer." he said. "Next floor down from that are the private rest rooms, and the dark maze, and the orgy room, and what they call the suckatorium. Then on the floor above this one there's a couple of cinemas – a large one and a smaller one, and a couple of fetish areas – S&M etc. On this floor is the shop and the coffee bar and the rest and recuperation lounge. And down below is the wet floor – saunas, steam rooms, spa baths and a swimming pool."
"Wow," was all I could manage. "Will there be time to explore everything?"
"Our exclusive session doesn't finish until seven, so you've got plenty of time to sample all the delights! And there's always next month for anything you miss. Ready?"
I smiled and nodded. It seems odd, but I wasn't the least bit apprehensive. Over the last month or so I'd come to understand so much more about male sexuality in general, and my own in particular. From having intimate relations with Alan and Doug and George I knew, once they learnt to be honest with themselves, how much men love having lusty sex with each other. And I knew that everyone who was the other side of the locker room door, roaming around Thebes totally naked, and probably as hard as I was, had come to this realisation and was looking for an afternoon of sexual abandonment. Just the same as I was.
We made our way through the door and into the shop on the other side. It was full of erotic delights, but I was eager to get through into the more active parts of the venue so didn't stop to browse what was on offer. I'd take a good look later and perhaps buy myself a few treats to take home! Alan led on out of the shop, through the coffee bar and into the relaxation lounge. There were about a dozen sofas arranged around the lounge, with several coffee tables on which a selection of gay magazines were arranged. On the wall there was a large screen TV that was showing a video of a group of mature men fucking and sucking each other.
Eight or nine naked men were scattered around the sofas, either talking or watching the TV. The men were a varied bunch – some looked younger than Alan and myself, others appeared ancient; some were almost alabaster white whilst others had deep tans; most of the men seemed to have taken care of themselves although a couple were quite overweight. I noticed that the sofas all had removeable towelling covers on them to protect them, I assumed, from sweat and I suppose any other secretions the men produced during the afternoon...
A few of the men looked up as we walked through, and Alan said hello to one or two although he didn't stop to introduce me to any. I looked around at the men in the lounge and was pleased by what I saw. Some of the men were rubbing erect penises while watching the TV and a couple were engaged in a deep kiss, both of their cocks hard and touching as they leaned in to each other. I felt my own dick stiffen further.
I followed Alan out through the door into the stairwell. Walking around nude in the company of so many others, with my dick as hard as a rock, felt very liberating. I was literally as naked as the day I was born and the further I progressed the harder my penis became. It was like I, and all the other guys I'd seen so far, were making a statement about our masculinity. For the most of my life I'd been comfortable with being naked with other men in public changing rooms, but I'd hardly ever seen an erect cock. I certainly had taken great care to ensure that no one had ever seen mine erect in such a place. But now, instead of being ashamed to show my erection in such an open environment I was actually proud of it. And this gave me a feeling of such freedom and empowerment. I'd spent a lot of time during the last month naked at home, but walking around here felt different. It had a certain added exhilaration to it.
We climbed the stairs to level 1, where the porn cinemas were.
"I'll leave you here," said Alan, "to explore the place yourself." We'd discussed this in the car on the way over, and had agreed it was better not to go around as a pair because we needed the freedom to get involved in things that turned us on personally. There would be plenty of opportunity outside these monthly sessions to enjoy each other or even, if the circumstances arose, during the session itself. "I'll probably bump into you on and off during the afternoon, I'm sure. And if not we can meet in the R&R lounge at the end."
I left the stairwell and made my way onto Level 1. Alan continued up the stairs to the floor above. As I entered through the heavy fire door the first thing I noticed was that the lighting was much dimmer than both in the stairwell and on the ground floor. And it also seemed to be a couple of degrees warmer.
I stood for a few seconds to get my bearings. I could hear the sound of moaning and grunting from down the corridor in front of me. I recognised the unmistakable and varied noises of men – and quite a few men it seemed – engaged in sexual activity. I walked down the passageway towards the light that was spilling out from one of the side rooms, trying to take it steady, but eager to find out what was going on. And hopefully to become part of it. The sounds became louder as I progressed, and when I reached the source of the light I found that I was hearing a combination of the video playing on the large screen – for this room was the large theatre – and half a dozen or so men enjoying themselves on the tiered benches. I entered.
On the screen two grey haired gentlemen were fucking in a wooded clearing, one on his back with his legs resting on his friends shoulders. Both men were groaning at each slow thrust. Alan had told me that he liked going out into the countryside and finding secluded places to strip off and have sex, and I was looking forward to the warm weather so I could join him. But today the live indoor action was more interesting than watching a video of alfresco sex. Near to the door a guy was sitting on the second tier while another knelt in front of him and sucked his cock. The man being sucked was in turn providing the same service for a third who was sitting on the tier above, his lap next to the other's head.
Across the room someone was kneeling on the third tier of benches while a guy fucked him from behind. I reached down and felt my cock which was beginning to ooze precum, and moved nearer to this couple. Over the previous month I'd seen many video clips of men fucking each other, and in sessions with Doug and Alan and George I'd fucked and been fucked, but I'd never watched, in the flesh, two blokes fucking close up. Alan had told me that if anything was being done publicly it meant that the participants weren't expecting privacy, so I went over and stood a metre or so away from the couple to get a good look at what was going on.
The the guy doing the fucking was leant over the guy being fucked, although he wasn't quite resting himself on the bottom's back. He moved with a slow rhythm, thrusting in and out while making a guttural sound deep in his throat each time he pushed forward. The bottom was pushing back slightly on each stroke, and as he did a soft gasp of pleasure escaped from his mouth. The light from the video screen illuminated their bodies, and both men shimmered with sweat. I found this detail very erotic, and started to pull my foreskin up and down over the head of my cock.
Being so close to the men meant that on every stroke I could see the bottom's bum quiver as the top's legs hit him, and that too turned me on. Like all the other men I'd seen, each of the guys had tattoos on their backsides – the top had a pair of scales and the bottom an archer. Alan hadn't mentioned anything about the tattoos, and I wondered whether it was expected that I'd do the same and end up with two little fishes on my arse! To be honest I thought the small tattoos looked quite erotic and I'd always fancied having a small and discreet tattoo myself although Anne had been very much against it so I'd never gone ahead with it.
The top let out a big gasp and pulled out of the guy being fucked. "Phew! It's hot in here," he said. I wasn't sure whether he was talking to me or the other man. "Don't want to come yet – plenty of the afternoon left." He slapped the bum of the guy he'd been fucking and there was a loud crack. "You want some more?" he asked. "There's a guy here who looks as if he's ready and waiting."
The bottom turned towards me and gave me a quick look up and down. "Always got room for a nice dick like that," he said. "Just let me stretch a bit." He raised himself off his knees and pushed his arms upwards for a few seconds.
"Get yourself lubed up," said the man who'd been doing the fucking. "He's pretty slick inside, but it wouldn't do any harm to put a bit on yourself."
Alan had explained that all over the venue, on the walls of every room, there were dispensers for lube and paper towels as well as containers of condoms, not that these were needed during this session, of course. In the larger rooms such as the theatre there were multiple sets of these dispensers, and the nearest lube was almost next to where we were. I pushed the lever a couple of times to get a good amount of the sticky stuff in my palm and then began to spread it all over my dick, which was now as hard as I could remember it being in recent years at the thought that I was going to fuck bareback, in total confidence and safety, someone whose name I didn't even know. Just because he wanted a dick up his arse and I wanted to provide that dick for him. Primal. I breathed deeply.
By the time I'd finished preparing myself my bottom had finished his stretching and had reassumed the position he'd held a minute or so earlier. I placed myself directly behind him and leaned towards him to introduce my dick to his arse. In my haste I hadn't gotten close enough, so I took a couple of tiny steps forward and then felt the tip of my cock rubbing against his anus.
"Ready?" I asked.
"Hmmm."
I leaned gently forward and my dick was practically sucked into his arse. I don't know how long he'd been there, and whether the guy from whom I'd taken over (who'd now disappeared) had been the first to fuck him that afternoon, but he was very well prepared and I slipped in with no resistance whatsoever.
"That's lovely"
"Same here," I responded as I started a rhythmic rocking inwards and outwards. I put my hands on the back of the guy I was servicing, and found it was slick with sweat. I moved them around, using his perspiration almost as massage oil, and felt a dribble of my own sweat work its way from my neck down the middle of my back to my arse crack.
I looked to my right. One of the three guys near the door who was being sucked when I entered had turned round and was now being fucked from behind but was continuing to suck the third guy. And a guy was standing a few feet away from me, watching me fuck in the same way that I'd been watching the fucking a few minutes ago. It was the first time I'd ever been watched having sex, as far as I know, and it added excitement to what I was doing.
Suddenly I felt a hand from behind exploring my balls as I moved in and out of the man in front of me. At first the unknown and unseen hand just rubbed my hairless scrotum, but then it moved forward to the base of my penis and then onwards further towards the anus I was fucking. After the hand had coated itself in the lube that covered the base of my cock and around the bottom's arse crack and hole, it drifted back over my balls, across my perineum and to my own anus. A slick finger worked itself around my butthole and when this was covered in lubricant began to slowly enter me.
The feeling of being stimulated front and rear was outstanding and I tried to relax the muscles around my anus to encourage the finger further inside. Presently it was in deeply enough to massage my prostate, and the double stimulation of my penis moving up and down a well-oiled arse while my own tunnel was explored took me to yet new heights of pleasure.
"Hang on," a voice from behind told me, and I felt the finger being pulled briskly out of my arse.
I could sense movement towards the wall from where I'd obtained the lube I'd used to coat my cock, and looked to my left to see a man of medium height helping himself to a couple of handfuls of the sticky liquid. He used it to cover what looked like a decent, but average sized dick, and then pressed the button another couple of times to add more into his palm. He then turned towards me and saw I was looking at him.
"Fancy this inside you?" he asked.
I'd seen this sort of thing on video clips – a man fucking and being fucked at the same time – but obviously had never done it myself. Here, just minutes into my first encounter at the Widowers' Club, I was getting the opportunity to try something I guess most men are never privileged to experience in their lives. For I was to discover that it is a privilege to be able to indulge in such a fulfilling activity.
First off I felt a very slippery hand introduce more lubrication around my anus, and up my arse, initially with a single finger then with two and finally really opening me up with a third. All the time I managed to keep up a gentle pulsing into the guy in front of me, albeit, to be honest, with less focus than before. Then, once the man behind me judged that I was ready I felt his cock at the door to my tunnel, and a bit of a push, and then he was inside me. I stopped pushing forward for a few seconds to concentrate on my own rear end, and pushed backwards while between us we negotiated my inner sphincter.
Having never done this before I wasn't sure what to do once he was fully inside me – how did three of us manage to maintain a rhythm and tempo which would satisfy us all without one or both dicks popping out? For a moment I stayed still, and that appeared to be the right thing to do because my bottom started to push backwards and fuck himself on my dick, whilst my top took care of the thrusting from behind. And how they managed it I don't know, but they managed to synchronise their own patterns so that the guy in front of me was backing onto my cock at the same time as the man behind was thrusting into me. I just stood there and allowed my penis and my rectum and my anus and my prostate all to be stimulated towards ecstasy.
I turned to my right. We'd now attracted a small crowd with four or five guys standing and wanking, either themselves or someone else, as they looked on. I can't believe it, but I didn't feel at all embarrassed by this – it was as unimportant to me as if we were playing a game of dominoes or crib in the pub and a load of guys were standing around to see how the game went. From that point onwards I knew that the Widowers' Club was made up of totally uninhibited likeminded men who'd manage to shake off decades of social conditioning so they could enjoy the most simple and natural of pleasures.
At one stage I was on the verge of ejaculating but was saved when the chap behind me must have got to the same stage and quickly pulled out of me saying he didn't want to come yet.
"Same here," I said as I put my hand on the slimy back of the man I was fucking and stopped him from backing himself onto my prick. "And I've got to take a break. I'm knackered."
I pulled myself out of the guy in front, tapped him on his arse a couple of times and thanked him. Then I grabbed a couple of paper towers from the dispenser and wiped my dick clean and went off to try to find somewhere I could get a drink of water.