Twilight Love by Hankster

Twilight Love
by: Hankster

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Chapter 1

My wife passed when I was seventy. She was sixty-eight. Her fight with cancer had been long and arduous. Although I ached acutely at her loss, I also blessed her death, knowing that all her pain was gone at long last.

I have one son in San Diego and another in New York. With my wife’s passing I was left alone in Ft. Lauderdale. Well, I don’t mean alone. I have plenty of friends, but I don’t have a single family member in the south east. My son, the Californian, insisted I come to San Diego and move into a beautiful assisted living facility near his home. My son, the New Yorker, insisted I return to New York and move into a beautiful assisted living facility near his home.

I wasn’t keen on moving out of Florida. I had done well in business and had retired at fifty-seven. We moved to Florida from New York, where I took up golf and tennis, and achieved some small amount of skill in both sports. Now at seventy, I still played golf and tennis, but I admit I was slowing down some with my tennis game. I drove at night, I bowled, I was still a good dancer, and most important, I was still plenty OK in the sex area. When my wife took ill, I resumed the earliest sport that I had ever participated in, masturbation. I whacked off several times a week and still achieved a very hard erection, sans Viagra. I certainly did not need to be taken care of by any of my sons. I didn’t see the need to start making a bunch of new friends at my age either, and I was reluctant to leave the friends I had made in Ft. Lauderdale.

However, the idea of assisted living was appealing to me. I would have my own apartment, which the facility would clean at least weekly, and change the bed linens. I could eat my meals in a beautiful dining room and not have to cook at all. Even better, I wouldn’t have to eat alone. There were plenty of social activities at the facility, so if I didn’t feel like sitting home alone or going out with friends, I would have plenty of activities to participate in right on the premises.

One of my best friends was the activities director at just such a facility, The Carriage House. He urged me to come by one day and check the place out. Usually the executive director took prospective clients on a tour, but my friend, Terry, showed me around. He showed me models of studio, one bedroom and two bedroom apartments. There was very little difference in the monthly cost between a one and a two bedroom apartment, so I decided on the two bedrooms in case I ever got a visitor.

We toured the main dining room (they also had a grill room and a coffee shop) which was as fancy as any five star hotel. We examined the menu for that week and my mouth watered. Then we saw the pools, indoor and out, the card room, the billiard room, the arts and crafts room, the exercise gym, the library, the beauty parlor and barber shop, the bank (open several hours a week) and on and on. Needless to say, I was very impressed.

The other residents all seemed much older than I, but that didn’t bother me. I intended to socialize with my old friends outside the facility anyway. Before I left, I signed a lease, and gave the director a check for a security deposit and first month’s rent. I needed to sell my house and they left my moving in date blank until the sale was made.

Before moving in, they painted my apartment, replaced all the appliances and laid new carpeting. They made any repairs that were necessary before I took occupancy. It took about eight weeks to get a contract to sell my house and I moved in about three months after my initial visit to the facility.

The apartment came unfurnished and I was able to utilize most of my household goods. I am not much given to garage sales, so whatever I could not use, I gave to charity. I moved into my apartment at The Carriage House one Monday afternoon at the beginning of October, and was all settled in by that night. I was pretty pooped and turned in early that evening.

Since my wife’s passing, I had been having eggs and coffee every morning at a nearby coffee shop. The first full morning I was at the assisted living facility, I ambled my way to the dining room, found a small table for two and had my breakfast, hoping nobody would want to join me. It was nice not to pay a check and not leave a tip when I was through. The young waitress, noting that I was new, let me know that if I ever felt ill or unable to come down stairs, I need only call the dining room and they would deliver a tray to my apartment. That was really nice to hear.

Anticipating an arduous moving in week, I had told my golf and tennis buddies that I would not play this week, but would resume our regular game schedules on the following Monday morning. As a result, I had the whole day free as well as the rest of the week. I spent it familiarizing myself with the facility. When I got to the library, I browsed for a while. I found a book I had been wanting to read so I took it out. The library operated on the honor system. I sat down on a chair in the lounge just outside the library (there were several lounges at the facility) and I started to read.

After a while I realized it was lunch time. I went to the dining room and my small table was available so I sat down there. I selfishly hoped again that nobody would join me. The same waitress greeted me like I was an old friend. Actually that did make me feel more at home.

After lunch, I went back to my apartment and changed into a swim suit and a top. I took my book and decided to read at poolside that afternoon. It was a lovely day, not too humid. A hint of Florida’s glorious winter climate was in the air. I found a lounge chair in a shady area, spread my towel and sat down to read my book. I was alone and not bothered by anyone for about a half hour. Then I heard a voice say, “Hello, there.”

I looked up and saw a handsome, lean and youthful looking gentlemen standing over me. He was wearing a shirt and I really couldn’t tell if he was muscular or not. In spite of his youthful look, I guessed his age to be about seventy-one to seventy-three. He extended his hand and introduced himself.

I’m Andy, Andrew Barone,” he said, “I take it your new here.” He pointed to the empty lounge next to me. “Mind if I join you?” he asked.

I did. But what could I say? I really don’t know why I was feeling so anti-social, when I should be going out of my way to make friends at my new home. I looked up at him, smiled and said, “Please do!”

When he was settled in the lounge, he said, “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

What tact. I had never offered it. I guessed that Andy was a retired diplomat. “Sorry,” I muttered. “It’s Harry Dell.”

“Like the farmer in…” he quipped. “No, my family name, way back when, was DeLucio. Somewhere over the ages, it got changed to Dell.” I explained to him.

“So,” he said sounding delighted, “You’re Italian just like me.

“Hardly,” I answered him, “But I’ll admit to Italian descent.” We both laughed at that and I began to loosen up.

“Listen,” Andy said. He leaned into me and continued in a whisper. “I noticed you at breakfast and lunch sitting by yourself. I need a favor. Would you mind terribly if I join you in the future? I don’t know how it happened, but I got stuck at a table with a person who slobbers and dribbles their food when they eat, and it just turns my stomach. I know that I should be more tolerant. After all, I’ll be there soon myself, but it really is disgusting. If I join you at a table for two, we won’t be bothered by any of the other residents.”

Actually I thought it was a great idea. Sooner or later someone was apt to join me, and Andy was as good a candidate as anyone, handsome, presentable and probably not a dribbler.

I smiled broadly at him, showing him my beautifully capped teeth, which had cost me a Rolls Royce, and said, “That’s a wonderful idea. You’re more than welcome to be my table buddy.”

After that we just sat and talked to each other, getting acquainted. Andy had a pretty sad tale to tell. A good friend of his had a stroke several months earlier. He lived alone and had no nearby family, just like Andy and me. They didn’t find the body for nearly a week. Had he been with someone, he might have been saved. When they found him, the body was badly decomposed. That’s when Andy decided that assisted living was the next move for him, not for health reasons, but here at the facility, he would be constantly checked on. He was certain that when the time came, it would only take a few hours at most, not days, to find his body.

I told him that as a widower, I just felt the need for pampering, and I thought I’d be happy here. Just as he believed, I also believed it was best not to be alone. “Now that I met you, I have at least one friend here,” I said, letting him know that I was pleased to meet him and hoped that we would be friends.

I talked about my successful CPA practice, which I had sold a number of years ago, and I found out that he had been a professor of Economics at Columbia University. I had never been a good student and was momentarily intimidated, but I got over that fast. Best of all, we learned that our apartments here at the facility were separated by only one other apartment. Unfortunately, the dribbler lived there between us.

I don’t know where the time went, but suddenly Andy looked at his watch and said, “Let’s get to the dining room early this evening and stake out our table. Once we stake our claim, nobody will sit there, I guarantee.”

I got up to go back to my apartment and Andy said, “Next time you want to spend the afternoon at the pool, bring fresh clothes to change into. There are showers in the locker room over there. You can wash off sweat and chlorine, dress and go directly to dinner.” That was good to know, but for now, we took the elevator up to the second floor and went to our apartments. We passed Andy’s place first.

“If you’re ready before me, just knock, and if I’m ready before you, I’ll come and get you,” he said. As it turned out, after I showered and dressed, I left my apartment and Andy was just leaving his. We almost sprinted to the dining room and were relieved to see that ‘our’ table was available so we ran to it and staked our claim. When we looked over at the table Andy had been sitting at previously, the dribbler was glaring at him. “Too fucking bad,” Andy whispered to me under his breath. Don’t ask me why but that got me giggling like a school girl.

After dinner, Andy asked if I wanted to go to the card room. I wasn’t interested in playing cards, but I wanted to check the place out. When we got there, a spirited pinochle game was in progress. There were two men seated alone at a bridge table and they beckoned to us. “Do you play bridge?” one of them wanted to know. We both nodded and ended up playing as partners for a couple of hours. Now I could add two more guys to my list of acquaintances. Pretty good score for the first day.

Andy and I made great bridge partners and we trounced our opponents. We seemed to read our signals as expertly as if we had been playing together for many years. In fact, the more I got to know him, the more we seemed to have in common. Considering how anti-social I had been at first, I wanted to spend more and more time with him.

By eight o’clock all the card players started to leave. “This place is a tomb after 8 PM,” Andy complained to me. “Hey there’s a nice little bar just a couple of streets from here. It’s a nice friendly place, but I hate to go alone. How does a night cap grab you?”

“It grabs me just fine.” I answered him. “Just because we are in assisted living doesn’t mean life has stopped, does it?”

“Terrific!” Andy seemed so pleased. “Make sure you have ID with you.”

“Why? Do you really think the bartender is going to card me?”

“No, dummy. They lock the doors here at 9 PM and we’ll need ID to get back in.” Boy did I feel like a fool. Andy must have seen the blood rush into my cheeks because he laughed and slapped me on the back. But it didn’t feel like a slap, it felt more like a caress, and it gave me the warmest, most comfortable feeling. Now what is this all about, I wondered.

It was a short walk to the bar, on a lovely autumn evening. The bar was almost empty at this time of night. We ordered drinks. Andy ordered a vodka on the rocks and I ordered a scotch and soda. He insisted on buying the first round, assuring me that two was his limit. We took our glasses to a quiet table in the corner.

I would like to tell you what we talked about, but I can’t remember specifics. We talked about everything and nothing. We even broached taboo subjects like religion and politics. I do remember that we started to talk about sex. Both of us had started out with great sex lives, but with time sex hardly happened, and both of us were reduced to merely being room mates with our partners. I admitted that I still got hard as a rock, and Andy said that he still got hard but not really hard enough to penetrate. He had successfully used Viagra, so he was still going at it pretty strong. He said that in spite of that, his morning erection was still as hard as when he was a lad. If only he could maintain it, he lamented.

“Maybe you just need the right partner,” I said stupidly. I have no idea why I would say that when I didn’t even know if he was in a relationship. I was so glad he didn’t answer me.

We were enjoying our time together so much that we decided on a third round, but we ordered cokes. I could hardly believe it when the owner came to tell us he was closing, I looked at my watch. It was 1 AM.

“Don’t wake me for breakfast,” I said in jest.

However, I did get up early enough for breakfast and when I got to the dining room, I was exceptionally happy to see Andy sitting at our table reading the morning paper. He smiled when he saw me and put the paper away.

“Good morning,” he said. “I really didn’t expect you for breakfast. I just ordered.”

“I don’t usually require a lot of sleep,” I explained. “Once the sun is up, I’m up, no matter how late I get to sleep.” Just then our waitress came over with a glass of juice for Andy and she took my order. I was beginning to look forward to Tracy’s bright, warm and welcoming smile.

“Any plans for today?” Andy asked.

“Nah,” I replied, but next week I’ll be resuming my golf and tennis schedule. I play golf every Monday and Friday morning and tennis every Tuesday and Thursday morning. Do you play?” I asked.

“Not really. I never played golf and I haven’t played tennis in years.”

“If we ever need a fourth at tennis, would you help us out? I have extra rackets,” I let him know.

“Well, if you can put up with me, I wouldn’t mind,” he smiled back at me. “If you have no plans, would you like an outing at the beach today?”

“I haven’t gone to the beach in years,” I replied. “Don’t ask my why not. Ft. Lauderdale Beach is one of the most beautiful beaches in the world. I’d love to go.”

“One more question,” Andy interjected. “Would you object to going to the nude beach? It’s generally all male.”

I was shocked and was about to say ‘forget about it’ when Andy flashed me a wicked little smile that totally disarmed me. “I didn’t even know that there was a nude beach around here,” I informed him.

“Stick with me, kid. You’ll learn a lot,” he laughed at me.

Andy drove because he knew the way. He parked in a parking ramp and I insisted on paying the fee. Then we walked a couple of blocks to the beach which was hidden by thick, high bushes. I didn’t actually get a view of the beach until we stepped through an opening in the bushes.

Andy told me that attendance on the beach was light today. After all it was a weekday morning. Consequently the majority of bathers were more mature retirees, like us, and there weren’t a whole lot of us. I never saw such a variety of body sizes and shapes. Not only that, but cock sizes varied from a hole peeping through pubic hair to seven or eight flaccid inches. I relaxed a lot when I realized that I wouldn’t sport the biggest cock on the beach, but I’d be close to taking the prize. Suddenly, I wondered about Andy and couldn’t wait for us to strip. I had never given a second thought to a guy’s cock size before, mainly because I rarely saw men in the nude. My tennis and golf buddies all go home to take their showers after the games.

We spread the blanket we had brought and began to strip. Now I participate in sports a minimum of four days a week, so I am in pretty good shape, but when I saw Andy’s nude body, I gasped. He was rippled with muscles that a seventy plus man should not have. At least my cock was about a half inch bigger than his. We were both circumcised. Andy looked at my shocked face and said, “I try to work out for at least an hour a day, and at least four days a week at the gym.” That answered my unspoken question.

We had each brought a beach chair. We spread our towels on the chairs, applied sun block generously, and sat down. This gave me a chance to look around. Many of the men were either sitting or lying in the sand quite close to each other, and some had their arms around each other. Some of the men were playing in the water, and I could tell that there was a lot of inappropriate grab-assing going on. More accurately, I should say that there was a lot of cock-grabbing going on.

At first I thought nothing of the scene before me. I was pretty naïve about such matters. After a few minutes the light began to dawn. Andy had taken me to a nude, gay beach. I could not believe my own reaction when I realized where we were. Instead of shock, and get me out of here quick, I was just plain curious. I had never really known any gay men and had no idea how they lived or acted except the stereotypes presented to me. I am proud to say, I never believed any of those stereotypes. I always figured that gays were as varied as straights. At this point, I began to question Andy’s sexual orientation.

I glanced over at him. He was staring at the men playing in the ocean, and I could see that he was crying. He must have felt my eyes on him, because he turned toward me, and it was clear that he did indeed have tears in his eyes.

“What?” he asked.

“No, you tell me what. Why are you crying?”

“I guess I should have told you before we came here,” he said, “but I was afraid you wouldn’t want to be my friend. Hell, you’ll find out sooner or later anyhow, so here goes. I’m gay.” He stopped to study my face. I had already figured that out and hoped he couldn’t read anything in my eyes. I tried to remain perfectly cool with it.

“I had a partner for over thirty-five years,” he went on. “When we retired, we moved to Florida and we used to come to this beach several times a month. We would play in the water and instead of beach ball, our favorite game was trying to grab somebody’s, anybody’s cock. We gave points for making contact. Dumb game, isn’t it?” He hesitated again, but I didn’t interrupt.

“My partner had a heart attack about two years ago, and passed away. When I saw those guys playing in the water, I got a little nostalgic,” he continued. “I’m sorry.”

“Nonsense,” I said. “I still tear up when I see something that reminds me of my late wife. And if you are wondering,” I added, “I don’t give a damn what you do in the privacy of your bedroom. If you want to be my buddy, I sure want to be yours. In fact, when you are ready, I’d like to hear all about your late partner.”

“And I’d like to hear about your wife and kids,” he said. Then, without my noticing, he reached over and took my hand in his. He squeezed it gently and a pleasant shiver spread through my whole body.

“I’d really love to go into the ocean for a swim,” I said, “but after what you just told me, I don’t know.”

Andy laughed. “You are perfectly safe from me,” he said, “but I can’t vouch for those other horny bastards.”

“Hell, I really want to go for a swim. I’m a big boy and I can take care of myself. Anyway I have always been adventurous when it comes to trying new things.” Fuck! Why did I say that? It could give Andy the wrong idea. Well, if it did, he didn’t show it. He was still holding my hand. He pulled me up and we started running toward the water.

The ocean water in Florida is never cold and we plunged right in. I had never swum naked before, and the warm, wet feel of the water on my cock, felt almost like a blow job. I knew how it felt because I had talked my wife into oral sex once, but she wouldn’t do it again. The remembrance of that aroused me, but I remained flaccid.

We waded out deep enough for us to be able to swim, but we were still close enough to shore that if we stood up, the water would only reach us mid chest. We began to swim parallel to the shore. Between strokes we would look at each other and smile.

Suddenly, a hand engulfed my cock and balls and squeezed very gently. It felt great but I stood up and grabbed the body of the perpetrator. Instinctively I pinned my arms around his torso. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on your point of view, that action pressed my cock up against his buttocks.

“Uncle!” he yelled, and I released him. Andy was standing up also and he threw his arms around the guy and kissed him full on the lips. Now that was something that definitely made me uncomfortable.

“Ryan,” he yelled. “Where the fuck have you been?”

“I went back to New York for a while, but I’ve grown too fond of Florida, so here I am again. Now that I am back, it’s for good,” Ryan said. “Hey, I get two points for grabbing your friend’s cock and balls. Who is this good looking guy?”

Andy introduced Ryan to me as an old friend of his and his late partner’s. He introduced me as his new friend. I was flattered, not realizing that Ryan could assume we were in a sexual relationship.

“Hey,” Ryan said, looking at both of us. “I’m here with a buddy and can’t socialize right now, but I’m in the book. Please give me a ring and we’ll get together.” With that said, he left.

“Great!” Andy and I called after him simultaneously. We looked at each other and laughed.

“How come he got two points?” I asked.

“You get one point for grabbing a cock and another for grabbing balls. Consider yourself lucky. You get three points for each finger you get up an ass.”

“Ooh,” I feigned mock pain.

Andy asked if I was ready to get out of the water.

Now what happened next is beyond my comprehension. I will never be able to explain it. I answered his question spontaneously and without giving it any thought.

“Not until I catch up in this game.” With that I grabbed Andy’s balls and cock. He was too stunned to move so I drove a finger up his ass. I was shocked at how easily it went in, and I was about to try a second finger, when Andy regained his senses.

He grabbed my cock and balls, leaned into me and started to kiss me. His tongue forced my lips apart and my tongue met his in the closest thing to passion that I had experienced in years. I kissed him back and hard and pressed my cock against his body.

“Are you sure?” he asked me.

“Very sure,” I answered him. “Now I’m ready to get out of the water. How quickly can you get us back to one of our apartments?”

We drove home in relative silence, but Andy put his right hand on my cock, only removing it when he needed both hands to maneuver the car. No man had ever touched me there until today. We were both pleased that his gentle touch was giving me an erection. I had not yet mustered the courage to touch him now that we were out of the water.

“We’ll go to my place,” he said. “I have stuff there.” I had no idea what he meant, but couldn’t wait to find out. We parked the car and left our beach chairs and towels in it. We ran to the elevator, which seemed to take two hours to reach us. At last we got to Andy’s apartment. We ran in and he locked the door. He grabbed at my clothing trying to undress me, and I helped him. Then we worked on him.

We stood facing each other, admiring our naked bodies. Both of us were hard as rocks. It occurred to me that I was the right partner for Andy. Look how hard he was without Viagra.

“Let’s shower,” he said, “and get rid of the salt water.” He grabbed my cock and led me to the bathroom. I can’t tell you how good that felt. He adjusted the water temperature and we stepped inside. We began to wash each other. I had done this with my wife many times, but Andy and I got more intimate than I had ever been with her. We washed each other’s genitals and paid close attention to our ass holes. When he inserted two fingers into my virgin ass, he expertly found my prostate and sent me to a higher state of being.

Suddenly he dropped to his knees and started sucking my cock. Within nano-seconds I felt myself cumming and stopped him. “I don’t want to cum yet,” I explained. I want it to last as long as possible. This is just too intense.” He released me and I dropped to my knees. I grabbed his cock with the intention of taking it into my mouth.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he let me know.

“I want to,” I said. I began to suck his cock and did everything he had just done, and a little bit extra which came from instinct. I can’t tell you how good his freshly washed cock tasted. I could have sucked forever, but now it was his turn to stop me for the same reason. He wanted to delay his orgasm as long as possible.

“I need for you to fuck me,” he said. I haven’t felt a cock up my ass since Danny died. I have missed it so much.”

“Tell me what to do,” I said.

“Not here,” he answered. “Let’s take it to the bedroom.”

We exited the shower, dried ourselves thoroughly, and went to Andy’s bedroom. Andy opened a drawer in his night table. I could see that the drawer was filled with DVD’s featuring pictures of naked men and boys on the jackets. He reached under the disks and retrieved a tube of lubricant.

“Put some lube on your fingers. Insert as many fingers as you can up my ass, one at a time. Thoroughly lubricate me, and stretch my ass with your fingers,” he instructed me. I can’t tell you how aroused that made me, and I happily obliged.

“Now,” he said, “lubricate your cock, and let me know when you are done.” I did everything as he instructed. He turned on his back and pulled his knees into his chest.

“Now line your cock head up with my ass hole, make believe it’s a vagina and do what comes naturally. Just enter me slowly and stop if I tell you to. You see, you are much better endowed than Danny was.” Somehow that bit of information made me even hotter.

I did as I was told. I went in just a short way and met some resistance, but Andy did not tell me to stop. I kept pushing as slowly and as gently as I could. Suddenly I penetrated his sphincter muscle and I slipped in easily right down to my pubic hair.

“Stop for a moment,” Andy whispered. “Just let me get used to you. Man you are big and I am loving it.” We lay this way for a moment, and then I leaned over and began to kiss Andy. Our lips met longingly and he began to gyrate his buttocks. I took that as a signal to start humping him and I did. I started very slowly and gently at first. Suddenly his whole body shook. I must have rubbed against his prostate. His ass was so tight, I couldn’t tell for sure, but he was moaning with pleasure and that’s all I needed to know. He began to push up against me more quickly.

“Fuck me harder, fuck me harder,” he begged. My strokes became longer and I thrust home harder.

I screamed at him, “I can’t hold back.” With that I came so hard and so long that I lost count of how many times I spurted into him. When I felt that I was finished at last, I collapsed on top of Andy. I was surprised that his abdomen and chest were covered with cum. Without my touching him he had reached his climax also.

As I kissed him, he reached between us and scooped up some of his own cum. He tasted it and then scooped up some more. This time he offered it to me. I hesitated for a mere second and swallowed his finger hungrily, licking up every drop of jism he offered me.

I rolled off of him and I was crying like a baby. Andy became alarmed when he saw my tears. “I’m so sorry, honey,” he said. “I didn’t mean for you to do anything that would gross you out.”

“Sh, sh!” I said. “You didn’t gross me out. I’m crying for joy. Who would have dreamt, that in the twilight of my years, I would have the best sex I ever had in my whole life. Right now, I feel like I could go on having sex with you for at least twenty more years. I have never had an orgasm this intense or enjoyed making love so much. Then when you called me ‘honey’ I melted altogether. Don’t let me gross you out when I tell you that I have fallen in love with you.”

My darling lover,” Andy sighed. “You can’t gross me out. I fell in love with you the minute you walked into the dining room yesterday morning. He leaned over me and kissed me.

To be continued...

Posted: 08/22/08